However, even if that was bragging, Verdu thought that wooden door was worth studying.
After some searching, he found his target:
The ordinary-looking wooden door leaned against a collapsed wall, with a brass-colored keyhole and handle.
There are no corpses around it, and there are no blood stains, which is consistent with most places in the ruins.
Sure enough, he was bragging. Ha, maybe the pirate heard about this wooden door from other places. He and his men didn’t dare to try to move it at all… Verdu looked around and suddenly said:
“who?
“Why are you spying on me?”
He actually didn’t notice anyone around him. He just used his words and reactions to deceive potential monitors based on his previous experiences and lessons.
The next second, a middle-aged man with a bulging belly walked out from somewhere in the shadows.
He didn’t speak and silently walked away from this place.
Verdu was thankful and secretly relieved, seizing the time and approaching the wooden door.
According to the information he received, no matter which way the wooden door is pushed, it will not bring about unusual changes, and there is no danger in touching it without trying to move it.
After thinking for a few seconds, Verdu retracted his hand into his sleeve robe, used the classical robe as a “glove”, and pulled down the wooden door.
The wooden door was erected, and the surrounding area was quiet.
Verdu immediately pushed the wooden door open like a normal door, but still couldn’t see the slightest change.
He tried a variety of methods, but none of them caused the wooden door to show abnormality. It seemed that it was just good luck that it was preserved intact under the city-destroying attack of the Church of Storms.
Taking a deep breath, Verdu tried to regain his composure.
He thought for a moment and tried to open the door again.
However, what was different from before was that he held the handle and gently twisted it downwards.
After hearing the slight click of metal, Verdu pushed forward, causing the wooden door to expand diagonally backwards, leaning against the collapsed and broken wall again.
This time, a gray mist suddenly appeared in front of Verdu’s eyes.
There is a looming street and row houses in the mist.
Outside one of the houses, there is a wooden sign inlaid with several Rune words written on it:
“Bansy Port Telegraph Office.”
While Verdu’s pupils dilated, a gentle voice came from the telegraph office shrouded in light fog:
“Are you here to take pictures and send telegrams?
“Please come in.”
Although there was nothing special about the voice coming from the telegraph office, it was just a little intermittent and lacked obvious fluctuations in tone. Normally it would not make people feel scary, but Verdu suddenly felt a surge of fear in his heart.
It was like a bullet with flames shot into the arsenal, accurately hitting a barrel of easily ignited gunpowder, instantly detonating the fear that Verdu had accumulated before and forcibly suppressed.
The panic tha