Dow and Carbon-Based Monkey Breeding Guidelines

Chapter 903 The Prologue of Valpurgis

The scorched, emaciated, severely deformed hand turned in the wind.Burns, or some kind of chemical attack, made it difficult to see the original appearance.It was impossible to distinguish skin and muscle from this horrific mutilation, which was just five thin strips of charcoal stuck in a flat block of coal.If anyone touches it lightly, this weird and tragic thing may fall into black ash and shatter into pieces.

However, what is incomprehensible is that the scorched bone-shaped palm is still connected to the fleshy arm and wrist, and the boundaries between the two are clearly defined, all hidden by bandages and gloves.When the master turned his wrist slightly, the five withered dead fingers flexed and stretched flexibly, directing the breeze lingering between the fingers.The blackness of the wreckage seemed to be polluting the air.Overcast clouds overwhelmed the green field in an instant, and the light on the top of the hill became darker.

Jania clenched her right hand tightly. "That's why you're wearing gloves?" she asked, staring at his hands. "What the hell is that?"

The man on the top of the hill wore that contemptuous and malicious smile.This smile was familiar to Jania by now.She could tell the difference between the man in front of her and the friend her brother saw—the man she had once called Mr. Glove.But she didn't understand exactly how the difference came about.Is it a clever disguise?Split personality?In any case, the thing speaking to her was the same person who had killed Lot, even the person who had briefly met her gaze in that mirror room.

He spoke.The voice was very soft, but the wind carried every word clearly to Jania's ear: "This was your brother's hand."

"what?"

"Your brother's price." The man on the top of the hill whispered, "Two years ago, he should have lost at least one hand."

"This hand doesn't grow on him."

"Someone pays for him." He replied with a joyful tone.

Jania wondered if this was lying to her.She stared at the hand, seven or eight completely different thoughts popped up in her head, and then she thought of a certain sentence that Lot said last night.

"The death blow was in the stomach," she murmured, "and back from the dead."

Her gaze moved down, from her left hand to the stranger's stomach.The dark double-breasted coat tightly blocked all the evidence, but she did see it last night. She sat on the sofa in the living room and saw what happened in the kitchen with her own eyes: the murderer followed the victim to the deepest part of the kitchen, and then The murderer should have gone to get a water glass, but suddenly turned to face the murderer.They may have said something, they may have just looked at each other, and then the killer suddenly raised the knife and plunged it viciously into the victim's abdomen.No one knew what caused Rod to attack suddenly, but the whole process was so clear that Jania even remembered her mother's scream at that moment.

But even her mother admitted afterwards that she was wrong.At that time, she firmly believed that Lot's cruel knife must have pierced a person's stomach, but later found out that it was just a small flesh wound. The medical student almost healed the wound by himself, and even volunteered to go out to the community hospital for examination.No living person could have jumped so alive with a penetrating abdominal wound—but was it real?Or is that really a living person?
"About this question," the person on the top of the hill took the initiative to answer, as if Jania had already opened her mouth to ask, "You may have heard that two mirrors should not be placed opposite each other, and that would open the door to infinity."

I've never heard such nonsense.Jania retorted inwardly.And, at least in a world where physics counts, even two parallel mirrors cannot reflect infinitely.She is not an expert in the field, but at least she knows that light dissipates, and there are no such perfect mirrors in the world.

She deliberately didn't say these words out of her mouth.And just as she had guessed, the people on the top of the hill could still hear her voice.He put his still gloved right hand on his belly.Jania couldn't help but wonder what the hidden hand looked like.

"The ceremony is just a limited imitation of an ideal situation." He said in a low voice, "and I have always been tolerant of key objects. As for the room with mirrors..."

He swiped across his abdomen with his right hand. "That blow of his would have killed your brother, at least, given enough time."

Jania took two quick breaths.She felt that the air was gradually becoming hot and humid.An unexpected rainstorm is coming soon.

"You?" She asked hesitantly, "You saved him then?"

"I just agreed to an exchange."

Jania could not quite understand the meaning of this sentence.So the man on the top of the hill pressed his right hand back to the center of his abdomen again.He was so at ease in the turmoil brewing, so happy that he seemed to dance at any time.

"The wound must remain." He laughed, almost singing, "but—on whom? For what reason? On what site? As long as one life is exchanged, only one person needs to sleep in the tomb. "

He laughed out loud.The volume was not high, but the gust of wind swept across the field like a pack of dogs hearing a whistle, knocking down every shaky grass.Jania, who was unsteady, almost fell, but she kept her balance through gritted teeth.Lower your body, press your center of gravity forward, and then overcome your emotions and throw your anger back.

"You're not him." She tried to grasp a bit of truth, "You're not the same...my brother's friend."

The outsider turned his head to one side in boredom.It doesn't bother to answer her question, which can also be regarded as the default.She began to piece together the facts in her head: the first time she saw "Mr. Gloves", Lot's arrival and death, and this thing in front of her eyes... How can all this make sense?If what she witnessed was true, and what her brother believed was true.There must be a rational explanation for these two mutually blocking dead ends.

"Possessed." She spit out the word in the smallest voice, as if she was also disgraced by it.This shouldn't be a word that a qualified detective can say, but she found that once she accepted the damn answer and accepted that there were things beyond reason in this world, the rest of it became smoother instead.

"He summoned you," she tried to put together the next piece, "because he knew Lot would come, or because you told him Lot would come? He came here to..."

She paused. "My brother." But the answer was not clear enough. "He summoned you to save my brother."

The shape of the answer seemed to fit more closely with the fragments of fact she knew now.Although the people on the top of the hill did not say a word, Jania firmly believed that she was getting closer to the correct answer.This makes sense.It would even explain Lot's unexpected attack in the kitchen—it wasn't the murderer who needed the attack, but the victim.She used to think that it was all a disguise, a posturing to clear the suspicion, but what if it wasn't?What if Lot didn't just brag, but really punched a hole in her brother's stomach, and the wound disappeared for no reason?Transferred? Appeared in another person?

She immediately thought of stomach ache syndrome.It is only natural for a person with a stomachache to hold his stomach, and Lot's attack made up for the wound.But how can it be done?That should have shed a lot of blood—

"Bandages." The man on the top of the hill suggested with a smile.

"It's still going to be painful," Jania said bluntly. "It hurts so bad you can't stand up."

"For those who still feel pain, that's true."

Jania stared straight at the other person, trying to figure out what the words were implying.Anyway, now she admits that she may have a little preconceptions about Mr. Gloves.If she really lost her brother last night, who cares if Lot's death is ugly or not?She herself would want to smash Lot's head to pieces.Now, she owes a great debt to someone who has suffered unseen pain for her brother's sake—but when she saw the drunken madness appearing on that pale face at this moment, Jania really couldn't help it. Couldn't be more grateful to its owner.Can she trust him?Can you trust what is happening in this body right now?
"Why not?" the man at the top of the hill asked softly, "I am your only chance. Without my permission, you are doomed to leave early."

"I do not understand what you are saying."

"About the achievements you will achieve." The foreigner smiled, and put his finger on his lips again, as if to reveal a shocking secret, "Find a way out in the maze of the future, endless roads, endless dead people. But you... I will allow you to go a little farther, at the limits of your luck, within the limits of all potential history in this land, and I will allow you to find the way out, for the Someone you rescued from death."

If it wasn't a complete lunacy, Jania thought, it was just a deliberate attempt to mess with her head.After possessing a medical student, this thing might want to use her as a container.She had no choice but to try to recall how the novels and movies dealt with such situations: no self-reporting, no invitations to make and accept, no eye contact... all such useless ideas.This person has already lived in her house!

"What do you want?" At last she could only ask bluntly, "Can you leave this body and set its owner free?"

"It is not recommended that you have such a desire."

"That's what I thought." Jania asked, a little defiantly. "So what?"

"Then your brother's life would be worse than death."

Jania's face changed.She saw it as a threat at first, and the other party undoubtedly could do it.But what is this for?Just to occupy a mortal body?What's so special about her brother's friend's body?

"Don't think so badly," said the outsider, "what I'm asking for is just the most common seat in the world."

"By robbing others?"

"What do you think life is?" the other person asked softly, "When you eat every piece of meat, every piece of vegetable, when you clear the hornet's nest and termites out of your house, you think you have never occupied other people's place ?"

Jania was speechless.It's not like she can't argue.About the different life forms, the different ecological positions, the special status and transcendent intelligence of the human species on this planet, and the differences based on moral standards between the same kind and the other kind-even in her animal-oriented The hometown of protection, the punishment for killing a dog can never be compared with killing a person-these are all clichés, and you can see people arguing over and over before every election.But before Jania could lay out the clichés, she knew what the response would be.If she wants to question the other party with the moral standards of cannibalism and self-interest, she has to solve a more fundamental problem first.

"Who are you?" she asked.Then she changed her words again, "What are you?"

The outsider folded his hands in front of his chest, turned his head to one side, then bowed slightly, and made a salute that Jania was completely unfamiliar with.

"In the stories you tell," he introduced himself, "I am the one who denies everything. I am the Glarus and the Salem. I am the Brocken on the hill."

A drizzle of rain fell on Jania's forehead and trickled down the brow bone into her eyes.In the misty water vapor, the dark figure on the top of the hill rose and expanded rapidly like smoke, and turned into a looming phantom.Jania had to lift her head up hard to see the gigantic creature aloft.And when she did see clearly, intense fear pierced her like lightning.

A frightening ghost stands between the sky and the earth.The head was pressed against the dark and heavy clouds, and the long hair fell from the sky like rotten and torn black silk; the soles of bare bones trampled on the former sanctuary and cemetery, as if this monster had reduced everything to ruins.It is completely naked, just like a mummified corpse with dead skin wrapped in dry bones, letting the strong wind howl and howl between its translucent ribs.When it lowered its head to face Jania, who was as small as an ant on the ground, the face that had been weathered into a skeleton was still smiling ferociously.Dust and rain beat against its hollow eye sockets and around its cheekbones, plunging it into a hazy and eerie white mist.For some reason Jania decided it was the face of a dead young woman.

The hellish vision stared down at her motionless.Its lips and tongue are completely decayed, its vocal cords are gone, but the wind is screaming sharply.An ethereal voice came from nowhere and hummed in unison in her ears:

"The one who seeks the sublime ascends,
Those who are willing to fall into oblivion fall into oblivion.

Buildings crumble from tiny places,

Flies and ants grow from abundance.

Eternity!If you would stop for a moment,

Let the hound run into the woods,

Let her think she has found a way,
In the end, it was hard to escape the loss.

Play a game with her now,

It does not hinder long-term plans.

And listen to this sideshow bet:

Do your best,

Rescue your blood relative.

As long as the clockwork has strength left,

Wild beasts roam, snakes hide,
Death must stand by and watch.

But if the clock runs out,

The hands of the clock fall and swing silently,
A life is over.

Go, spy who inquires of secrets!
Hurry home, throw back the trap,

Save the idiot in that vat from the sea of ​​misery.

Family betting is just a joke,
The gamble of the elves is not tolerated.

Waiting for you to leave a drop of blood,

That's the beginning of the show. "

The showers fell, and there was a twilight between the sky and the earth.Jania staggered and ran home.What had happened on Green Hill was fading rapidly from her memory.It's still there, not forgotten, but ambiguous, true and false.But she remembered the song that the wind sang in banter.

Hurry up and go home.She ran across the muddy grass, shaking the rain from her face.The reason for this was unclear, but she already felt a sense of urgency.As quicksand falls and the clock ticks, she must race against the clock.She rushed into the house with the sound of the first thunder and lightning, and the rain left wet marks on the clean floor.Malcolm, who was looking at a certain painting in the living room, raised his head and shouted in surprise, "Jennia!"

Jania looked at the painting in his hand, the painting of the water banshee sent anonymously.She saw the wet and hazy face of the banshee in the painting, like two abyss-like dark eyes protruding from the clouds, and the veil around her body was like white mist.She recognized the face immediately, the face of the monster walking dead.She finally knew who the characters in the painting were!

"You need to change quickly and dry your hair!" said Malcolm. "Jennia?"

There is one last suspense that has not been solved.Jania turned around slowly and walked towards the basement.In the chaos of last night, she forgot about it like everyone else.

At the bottom of the fish tank, the lobster was lying on its belly, its eyes were hopelessly dark.It's been dead for a while.Jania stood outside the tank watching it, and Hannah's voice sounded in her head: Even if you do everything right, even if you give it the best conditions, it could die at any time.It does not depend on your efforts, but only on its own nature.

She reached into the tank with her left hand, trying to fish out the dead shrimp, but was pricked by the sharp thorns on the shrimp shell, and a bright red spread in the water.Jania felt a little out of breath.She tried her best to take deep breaths one after another, but she couldn't relieve the sudden severe headache.It was then that she finally realized, painfully, that she would be tormented by this violent and hopeless rage for a long time to come, possibly for the rest of her life.

(End of this chapter)