Mystery: I can change things in books

Chapter 74 The Knight's Heart
Gawain's house is an independent building on the outskirts of the city, with no other buildings around it.

The exterior walls of this small two-story brick building were covered with ivy. There were rustling insects inside, and weeds grew in the small garden in front of the building.

Chris pushed open the half-open iron gate and walked along the brick path toward the house.

Before he even approached the house, the door was opened from behind and a middle-aged man came out.His short blond hair was neatly trimmed, but his temples were streaked with white, and the wrinkles on his face were like ravines, which was extremely inconsistent with his figure.

"It's rude to enter other people's homes without permission... Who are you looking for?" He looked at Chris coldly, making it difficult to understand what he was thinking.

"Sorry, Mr. Gao Wen," Chris said apologetically, "I'm a policeman, and I came to you to practice fighting."

He handed the note stamped by Albert to Gawain, but the latter did not reach out to take it, and Chris's arm froze in mid-air in embarrassment.

"Now there is no need for the police to practice fighting." A hint of complexity flashed in Gawain's eyes. He did not sigh. He glanced at Chris's bulging waist and said with slight disgust: "You only need to practice the pistol."

Chris sighed secretly and said sincerely: "Mr. Gao Wen, in fact, in this era, fighting is still something that police must learn. Moreover, I was obsessed with fighting when I was not a policeman. I like this sport very much. "

As soon as Chris finished speaking, he felt that he had said the wrong thing. In Gawain's heart, fighting was more than just a "sport".

"sports?"

Chris's heart skipped a beat.

Gawain rolled up his sleeves and pointed to a ten centimeter long scar on his arm:

"Thirty years ago, in the Southern Continent, East Balam, the scar was left after fighting the Fusac warriors. If I hadn't raised my hand to block it, it would have pierced my heart."

Chris didn't answer, he knew that Gawain hadn't finished speaking.

"I was once a knight. We rode horses and held spears in our hands, rushing into the enemy's positions with unstoppable force, stepping over their bodies, and then piercing their chests with the glistening spear blades.

You don't know that in the past, knighthood was a respected profession.We not only fight for our country, but also for the chivalry in our hearts. The fight between knights is noble. Even if you die in battle, you will be respected by the enemy..."

Gawain smiled sadly: "The funny thing is that today's knights are no longer important, but have become decorations and will only appear in military parades. They are covered with ribbons and wear shining honors like children. They have never been to the battlefield and do not need to go to the battlefield. No one will recruit them. Only soldiers with rifles on their shoulders are eligible to go to the battlefield...

Fighting is a required course for a person to become a knight. It is by no means just a sport. "

Chris looked into Gawain's eyes, his eyes were slightly moist.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Gawain."

His apology was sincere.

Gawain shook his head, indicating that Chris did not need to apologize.

He smiled bitterly: "Although I have a contract with the National Police Agency, you policemen have no need to learn fighting now. So, do you still want to practice fighting with me? Even if it is a waste of your time?"

Chris felt that the Gawain in front of him seemed more pessimistic than in the original work. Gawain had devoted his whole life to the spirit of chivalry. When the wheel of history ran over the knight, his faith also collapsed.

He looked directly into Gawain's eyes and nodded, his eyes firm: "Yes, Mr. Gawain, I want to practice fighting!"

In Gawain's steely heart, a soft place was touched.

He took the note from Chris: "Then try punching first."

Chris took two steps back, took a deep breath, and concentrated. "Shua——"

Chris punched forward with all his strength, and the sound of breaking through the air sounded with his fist, which almost dislocated his arm.

The corner of Gawain's mouth raised slightly, he controlled his facial expression, and continued, "Okay. Try kicking."

Chris half-turned his body, stood on tiptoes twice, tensed his leg muscles and kicked out his right foot.

Gawain nodded and said: "Your strength is sufficient, but the point of exertion is not quite accurate. Follow me."

He turned and walked toward the house, Chris following behind him.

The interior decoration style of the house is mainly iron gray and brown, giving people a solemn and desolate feeling. Chris feels like he has entered a church rather than entering Gawain's residence.

"Want something to drink? Just tea and coffee, no wine."

Although Gawain's tone was still as cold as before, these words made Chris feel relieved.

On the wall facing the door were various medals, certificates and other things belonging to Gawain that proved his knightly honor. Chris looked at them carefully and was moved in his heart.

Gawain came over with two cups of tea. Seeing Chris staring intently at his wall of honor, he smiled, took a sip of tea, and said, "These are all things from my youth, nothing interesting to see."

The most advanced thing hanging on the wall should be this golden "Honorary Knight Medal of Loen Kingdom".

Chris took the tea handed over by Gawain and took a sip. His face darkened instantly. He felt like he was drinking extraordinary potion.

The bitter taste seeped into his taste buds and the tip of his throat. Chris wanted to spit out the tea in his mouth immediately. His throat squirmed and he swallowed the tea.

However, Gawain showed no expression at all. He blew the hot air from the cup and slowly sipped the same bitter tea.

"Drink this cup of tea first before practicing fighting."

……

West District, in a townhouse apartment on Middle Tiezhi Street

Horik hid behind the curtains and silently stared at the buildings across the street.He has found out the temporary residence of "Mole", which is on the third floor directly opposite.

He has identified everyone who comes in and out of the apartment. There is no problem with the other residents and they all have legitimate occupations.For ordinary people, this is a very difficult job.

Horik has been squatting here for almost a week and has roughly figured out the time when the "Mole" comes in and out of the apartment: once at noon and once in the evening. After going out at night, he will return to the apartment in the early morning.

Horik and two of his trusted trainee policemen worked three shifts to keep an eye on the Mole, with Fred sometimes coming to help.

Today, "Mole" entered the townhouse opposite three hours ago alone and has not come out yet.

Horik touched the holster on his waist. If he wanted to, he could rush to the opposite side and capture "Mole" now.

He believed that "Mole" could only be Sequence 9 at most, while he was Sequence 8, and with the help of pistols and demon-hunting bullets, he would not be at a disadvantage in the battle.

The wind blew the curtains through the glass, Horik squinted his eyes, and a strange figure came into his sight.

(End of this chapter)