musicians of old

Chapter 741 Crematorium

As he walked along, Fanning saw more and more incomprehensible scenes.

For example, the cage in front of us obviously looks empty, without even a human figure, but the two investigators guarding it are always in a tense state as if facing a great enemy. A closer look reveals that the surface of the fences is full of moving ring-shaped ridges, as if countless maggots are crawling inside!

Elsewhere, a Lydian priest wearing a bird-beak mask lifted up her chin with an iron hook. It was clearly an interrogation posture, but she was interrogating herself, which made the scene even more weird. The woman's gloves were soaked with sweat, and her fingertips were trembling: "Motive! What is your motivation for studying 'wormology'!?"

Soon, Fanning in the dream changed direction again with Poglelich.

Defying the laws of gravity, the two men walked vertically upwards along a rusty crane-like structure.

This is truly a prison.

A "worm science" prison built by the Special Patrol Department.

Fanning noted that it was even organized into several "functional areas."

For example, at the beginning, it was a place for detention and interrogation.

Now we have arrived at the place of execution.

The methods are also different.

Most of them were executions with "demon hunting bullets" that could cause devastating damage to the spirit, but there were others. For example, just now a group of executioners drove a long spike into the spine of a painter, and then "clicked" the gear handle. The man's blood vessels soon bulged like earthworms, and a sticky "ho ho" sound came from his vocal cords. Then his body was smashed into pieces, and golden pink pus seeped out a large area. Several executioners knelt on the spot and vomited the same color and shape.

Along the way, Fanning saw with his own eyes more and more people who appeared on the "cleansing list" in the previous batches!

The one in front of me is

"Lord Nisemi!?"

Fanning couldn't help but exclaim.

The minor nobleman who held the title of Viscount in Uvrancel, the father of John Nissimi who was born in 894 AD! ?

There is no way Fanning would mistake Joan's father's face. The first time he served as an "art consultant" is still fresh in her mind. His physique, which appears a little fat from the chin onwards, is also recognizable.

However, Lord Nisemius in the prison now appeared in front of Fanning in a very "beautiful" form - had he been executed? Or was he waiting to be executed? Fanning couldn't tell - this man leaned over the desk, hugging the wooden table, his muscles, blood vessels and internal organs already fused with it, and growing outward with amazing vitality, like a braided grapevine, climbing up and spreading along the fence, forming tumors and organs, hanging all over the prison, colorful and fruitful.

"The missing member of the Bologna School, Miss Joan Nisimi, former principal flute of the old symphony orchestra." Suddenly, Mr. Wax's voice sounded in Fanning's ears!

This chief secret historian seemed to be leading a team personally to escort some important person. At this moment, his figure appeared like a ghost from the side of Fanning, followed by a longer group of investigators.

"Miss Joan Nissimmee, Master Fanning, are you aware of her current situation?" he asked immediately.

"I don't know."

"You never cared about her?"

"I want to care, but what can I do?"

"My department is investigating."

"Is there anything that your department is not investigating?" Fan Ning glanced at the gray man in the wheelchair.

"As you can see, some people must be purged." Mr. Wax smiled inexplicably, "Especially in extraordinary times, there are many people who try to subvert the system, and there are also many people who are happy to see the unstable situation. Many conspiracies are dug up one after another. So in this situation, the other few people, who may not be such people originally, and have no such malicious intentions subjectively, but because of their personality and great influence, it is easy to create some bad and sensitive impressions on the organization, commonly known as... running into the gun."

"Ha, your department first moved the 'gun muzzle' to someone else's home, and then said that someone else ran into the gun muzzle. I really want to thank you on behalf of the Guidance School."

“Guidance School?” Mr. Wax shook his head and smiled, “There is no such thing as a Guidance School now.”

"You guys!?" Fanning frowned. What do you mean!?

"Persecutor! Dictator!"

Suddenly, another familiar male voice came from behind, angry and hysterical!

Gray smoke rolled and interspersed between the escort teams. A man whose body was pierced by thick bronze needles and looked like a hedgehog was pushed past Fanning in a prison cart.

It was Carmen Leon, the mentor of the Guiding School, physicist and engineer!

"Persecutor! Dictator! Careerist! Conspirator!" the shouting gradually faded away.

Fanning's expression really changed this time.

"Please go ahead, Master Fanning, the leader has gone far away." Mr. La never turned his head to pay more attention.

Finally, Fanning followed the team all the way and was led to a high platform where "steel supports" and "black cracks" grew intricately.

There are more than ten huge "crematoriums" arranged in a semi-circle here!

The space above the wreckage was a chaotic mess that looked like fire and a garbage dump!

A "magma"-like conveyor belt from bottom to top continuously pushed up corpses with various causes of death after execution.

If it can still be called a "human corpse".

The investigators first carefully wrapped the bodies with a transparent umbilical cord-like substance, and then sent them into the incinerator with nervous expressions.

This is a more ordinary person being executed.

On the topmost crematorium floor where Fanning was standing, there were a dozen other people who enjoyed even more special treatment: they were not executed below, but were directly imprisoned here.

Their mental state was a little dazed, some had their eyes open and some had their eyes closed, their minds were in a state of intermittent wakefulness, and there was a pen and paper on everyone's table.

"Master Fan Ning, haha, as expected, you couldn't escape the persecution of these guys after all, ah, haha." A man with disheveled hair in the prison raised his head.

It turned out to be the president of the Guidance School, P. Boulez!!

The school leader, who usually looked like an elegant scholar, now had chains tied up his hands and feet, and his spine was somehow twisted and bulged backwards.

"Everyone, it's a new day again. Do you remember anything new?"

Mr. Wax rocked his wheelchair and checked the papers distributed to everyone one by one.

He read the handwritten parts and gave them to the leader for review.

"Master Fan Ning, conditions are limited, so please sit opposite me first." During this time, he pointed to the open space in front.

There was a long, ordinary conference table standing out from the crowd, with various files and documents piled up like a mountain. Poglelich was sitting in the chair at the head of the table, reading the pages handed to him by Mr. Wax. He then looked up and glanced at Fanning:

"Give him a set of pens and paper, too."

(End of this chapter)