In 1999, the National Library of Paris discovered a parchment document known as the secret file, and it became known that many people, including Sir Isaac Newton, Botancelli, Victor Hugo and Leonardo da Vinci, were members of the Priory of Sion Opus Dei, as its members are known, is a Vatican sect, a deeply devout Roman Catholic sect that has attracted much controversy of late due to reports of brainwashing, coercion and a dangerous practice known as physical asceticism. The Master Union has just built its national headquarters at the cost of $100,000 in Lexington Avenue, New York City. All descriptions in this book of works of art, architectural documents, and secret ceremonies are accurate. Jacques Saunière, Ned’s venerable curator at the Grand Gallery of Graphic Arts, stumbled towards the closest painting he saw, a Caravaggio. The seventy-five-year-old snapped at the gilded The picture frame pulled it towards him forcefully. The picture frame was finally torn off the wall.
Saunière fell back into a ball and was covered under the canvas oil painting.
Sure enough, as the curator expected, an iron door nearby slammed down and sealed. The parquet floor vibrates at the entrance to the gallery The alarm sounds in the distance The curator lies on the ground for a moment panting and looking around to see that I am alive He crawled out from under the painting In this cavernous darkness Looking around for a place to hide, a gloomy voice came from not far away, not to move, the curator knelt there with his hands on his knees, and was stunned for a long time before he turned his head. The tall assailant was staring in through the iron bars of the door. He was tall, tall, bloodless, with thinning white hair.
His eyes had pink irises and dark red pupils. He looked like an albino. He pulled them out of his coat. Take out the pistol and aim the barrel through the iron railing at the curator You shouldn’t have run away I can’t tell what accent he has This time tell me where that thing is I told you I don’t understand what you’re talking about The curator knelt helplessly on the ground and stammered that you were lying, the man stared at him and did not move, only the ghostly eyes were rolling around, you and your brothers possessed The curator was startled when he found something that didn’t belong to you. How would he know these things? Tonight, he will return the thing to its owner. If he wants to survive, just tell me where the thing is hidden. The man pointed the gun at the curator’s head, what do you think? Did Saunière die for this secret? Saunière was so frightened that he couldn’t even breathe. The man tilted his head and looked down the barrel of the gun.
Saunière finally raised his hand and begged for mercy. The next thing the curator said was very careful.
It was a lie he had practiced many times beforehand, and he prayed every time that he would never use this lie.
It’s exactly the same as the others. The curator’s heart suddenly shrank.
I found them too.
I found all three of them. They confirmed what you just said, the big man sneered, that’s impossible, the real identity of the curator and his three principals is as sacred as the ancient secret they guard, and Saunière now knows that his companions are strictly following the procedure. Both told the same lie before they died it was a pact and the assailant pointed the gun at you again and when it was done I was the only one who knew the secret The curator immediately realized the truly horrible situation If I die the truth will never be known to him Instinctively trying to grab something to cover him, the gun went off and the curator felt a burning sensation as the bullet lodged in his belly, he fell to the ground, struggling in pain, then slowly turned over to stare at the attack through the bars.
The man took aim at Saunière’s head, the shot would have killed him instantly Saunière closed his eyes and his mind was in utter confusion of extreme fear and remorse The click of the empty chamber echoed in the hallway The curator suddenly opened his eyes and the man Glancing at his weapon, almost amused, he reached for another magazine, but seemed to think about it, then sneered triumphantly at Saunière’s stomach, and said, anyway, this guy won’t survive.
The curator looked down at him. Seeing the bullet hole in my white linen shirt The bullet hole was bloody all around inches below the breastbone My belly was brutal enough The bullet missed his heart As a veteran of the Algerian War the curator had witnessed such horrors before Delayed death he has fifteen minutes to live as stomach acid is seeping into his chest cavity and he will be poisoned from the inside