Chapter 495

The second region of the country, southern Europe in the pre earth era, a small town named olleshti in the west of Bucharest, the capital of Romania, is surrounded by mountains on three sides and the orte River on the East. It is a quiet and closed place like a paradise.

The car drove over the European stone bridge across the ault River and over a low grass hill. In front of it, there was a lush forest. Surrounded by the forest, a clean farmhouse with white paint came into view.

Obviously, the farmer is a very clean man. He also specially paved the corridor with broken pebbles. The garage and barn were built on the left and right of the main house. A simple horse was built on the right of the barn, tied with a red brown horse, leaning against the wall and a wooden fork.

Bruce and some of his men jumped out of the big seven seater pickup truck. The weather here is still very cold. Everyone looks menacing in thick cotton clothes and leather gloves.

In order not to appear so abrupt, Bruce arranged several people to stand in a row in front of the car, politely lowered their heads, then walked up the gravel path on foot, went to the front of the farmhouse, adjusted their clothes, and gently tapped the copper bell on the porch.

"Ding Ding!" the copper bell jumped happily and made a clear sound. Then, there was the sound of heavy leather boots beating on the ground in the door. Someone answered the door from a distance and hurried out.

When the door opened, an old black face appeared on the steps and looked at strange visitors with black nostrils. Both faces showed an unexpected look. Obviously, strangers don't often visit here, and Bruce's surprise is that there are such pure blacks in small towns in southern Europe. They generally like to go to East Asia or America to find a way out, don't they?

The dark skinned owner is obviously old and his hair is all white, which makes his head look like a coal ball with a layer of snow. His wide nose emits a strong smell of wine. His bright eyes show a hale and hearty spirit and are studying the visitor.

"Are you...?" he asked in standard English.

"Oh! My name is Bruce. I'm a worker. Take the liberty to ask, are you Mr. Ron?" Bruce quickly bowed his head to show his respect.

"Yes, I'm Ron..." old Ron looked into the distance at the row of guys dressed in a variety of workers. He opened the door of his house and politely said, come in. It's very cold outside.

Bruce led several people into the living room. The room was relatively warm. A pile of firewood was burning in the fireplace. The wooden floor was very old. When you walked up, it creaked. There were wide sofas and some hand knitted decorations in the living room. In this era, all these are like scenes in Retro movies.

"Please sit down!" old Ron politely gave way, then rubbed his big hands on his body twice, and said, oh, tea? Or coffee?

Bruce nodded politely, "just hot tea. Thank you!"

Old Ron turned to the kitchen cubicle and began to tidy up. After a while, he came out with a big tea tray and put it on the tea table: "why don't you sit? Please sit down?"

Bruce looked at the mud and stains on his body in embarrassment. He said apologetically that we would just stand.

"It's okay, it's okay! Don't be so rigid!" old Ron smiled, as if he didn't care at all. He pulled Bruce to sit him down, and smiled as if he had fulfilled a wish.

"You guys are here..." Ron asked again.

"Well..." Bruce just brought a mouthful of hot tea into his mouth and quickly swallowed it. "We came to meet the leader. In fact, she called us!"

"Leader?" Ron was stunned. "But we are a farm here. There is no leader!"

"Ah..." Bruce looked at the men standing behind the sofa looking at each other. "No?"

"No!" Ron put the teacup firmly on the table. "There are only me, my old wife and my little granddaughter. She has gone to school. In fact, she is only eighteen. It seems unlikely that she is the leader you are looking for!"

Bruce was in a daze. In fact, he had never seen the real face of the leader. The "morning light" organization was just an ID in the virtual world since its establishment. In that era, countless resistance organizations were born, most of which were destroyed by the land. Only the morning light survived because it conveyed the doctrine through virtualization. What kind of person is the leader, Indeed, no one knows. Even he, the highest ranking leader of morninglight organization except the leader, doesn't know.

A few days ago, the leader suddenly sent him an order in the virtual network using encrypted information, asking him to look for an item cleaned up after the reconstruction of the capital of the local state yuan. This led to today's meeting. He expected that this thing must be very important, otherwise the leader would not easily appear.

"May I have the pleasure of seeing your wife?" Bruce asked carefully. "I think she may know a lot!"

Ron's eyebrows raised: "ha, an old woman? Yes, yes, but I think you'll still be disappointed. She hasn't been out for decades. You know, it's harder for her to go out to the town than for me to put on a flower skirt!"

Under the guidance of old Ron, Bruce followed him to the second floor, which was far from the bedroom. Old Ron began to shout, old woman, wake up. A friend came to see you!

The bedroom on the second floor was dark, with only a desk lamp on the head of the bed. Under the orange light, a skinny woman leaned against the head of the bed, wearing broken flower pajamas and reading a paper book in her thin hand. These days, paper books can only be found in the museum, which deepened Bruce's suspicion, Everything here is very retro and very different.

The difference that convinced him most was that the old woman was not black, but a standard Asian. Although she was thin and seriously ill, her hair was combed meticulously and neatly behind her ears. The corners of her eyes hung down, but she still looked a little like the flowers on the bedside table. When she was young, she must have been a beautiful girl.

"Oh, Bruce, is that you? We finally met..." before he spoke, the old woman said hello first, which surprised old Ron. His wife really knew these people.

"Leader!" Bruce didn't know how to express his excitement. He took two steps and stood at the end of the bed, holding his left shoulder with his right hand and bowing his head, "dear leader, our spiritual leader, may the Lord bless you!"

"Oh, ha ha, good, good, come and sit down..." the old woman pointed to the white painted stool in front of the bed. Bruce walked over in fear, leaned down and sat down. She looked carefully at the organizer and founder of the largest resistance organization "Chenguang" on earth. An old woman in Asia, with beautiful eyes and beautiful eyebrows, still had an extraordinary look even when she was old. She smiled slightly, The wrinkles in the corners of the eyes are stacked high. On the glossy tip of the nose, a light gray mole looms out under the shadow of the lamp