Mo Yi couldn't help but suffocate for breath.
The shock caused by what he saw in the dark room before has not dissipated, and countless pale marble statues lined up neatly in the dark instantly appeared in his mind, and countless dark and empty eyes overlapped with the eyes in front of him. The eyes fell on the body and moved slowly, giving people a sticky reptile-like discomfort.
Mo Yi suppressed the strange feeling in his heart, and looked back at the past calmly.
The housekeeper's gaze slowly fell on Mo Yi's side—the faint bloodstains slightly seeped from the dusty gauze, tightly entwining the pale and thin palms hanging down on his side.
"Ah, are you hurt?"
His question sounded distant and polite, and the cold and gloomy voice seemed to have a soft hiss, which made the listener uncontrollably feel a strange coolness behind him.
Mo Yi hides his hanging palm behind his back without any trace, and covers his palm with the shadow of his body:
"Just careless."
The housekeeper's eyes slowly moved upwards from his side, staring blankly at Mo Yi's face:
"Do you need help with the wound?"
Although he asked this question, he didn't seem to care about Mo Yi's answer to his question and walked towards him quickly. The distance between the two was quickly shortened, and the housekeeper's pale and thin palm stretched out towards Mo Yi. , but he quickly avoided it.
Mo Yi took a step back calmly, and replied, "It's just a minor injury, so don't worry about it."
The butler withdrew his hand that was frozen in mid-air without changing his face. The smile on his face was still standard as if measured with a measuring stick. It seemed to be a delicate and perfect mask on his face. The voice said:
"In that case—"
Before he finished speaking, the butler's facial expression seemed to freeze instantly.
His smile, which has not changed since Mo Yi entered the dungeon, slowly disappeared from his lips, and the stiff lip lines tightened and straightened, turning into a short straight line without any emotion, like a face. The perfect mask on his face seemed to have cracked a thin gap, from which slowly flowed out a silent stiffness.
The butler stared at Mo Yi expressionlessly, and there seemed to be something cold and dark rolling in the depths of those dark and empty eyes. He said softly, "It's so strange."
His tone was slow and calm, vague and soft like whispers whispered by the pillow in the dark, but for some reason, Mo Yi heard it clearly, and only heard him repeat:
"really weird."
The butler stared at Mo Yi with those black hole-like eyes, looking calm and weird:
"I smell something that shouldn't be there."
The cold shivering feeling slowly crawled up his back, and Mo Yi instantly recalled the strange liquid that he had inadvertently stained with his fingers in the dark room before. The cold and sweet smell seemed to be the breath of death and decay faintly in the dark China. It lingers around, like a gangrene that refuses to go away.
The strong dusty smell covered it up, but it never went away.
Now it seems that, at least in front of the housekeeper.
At this moment, the housekeeper's still expressionless face showed some subtle changes. The facial features that seemed to be not very harmonious before seemed to become more conflicted, and it seemed that they were not a very complete jigsaw puzzle that was put together Under the shock, he became even more confused and distorted. His dark and empty eyes seemed to be filled with terrifying terror, which made him jump from just a subtle sense of disobedience with a real person to an abyss of inhumanity.
He stretched out his hand towards Mo Yi:
"Can I see your palm?"
Mo Yi's back slowly raised a cold and creepy feeling, as if something furry was climbing up along his nerves, he stepped back slowly vigilantly, his heart tightened slightly.
At this moment, he felt a cold palm gently grasping his wrist.
Mo Yi turned his head to look around, and looked straight into Wen Chen's light-colored eyes. His eyes with a slight metallic cold light and the slightly cold touch on his wrist seemed to say silently——I am here .
Mo Yi took a deep breath, nodded slightly at him, then turned to look at the butler again.
While carefully maintaining a distance from the butler, he tried to extract information from him as much as possible:
"Tell me first what it smells like."
Under the bright light of the hall, the butler's pale face looked like a piece of ice that had been slightly melted in the sun. His facial features were distorted as if they were slightly melting. The plaster-like stiff skin surrounded his hollow eyes. His voice It was cold and mechanical, and there was a gurgling sound like a hard object colliding in the throat:
"-your hands."
He seemed to have turned into a puppet that could only repeat, with an almost crazy look in his dark eyes.
Mo Yi heard the ear-piercing sound of "Kara" and "Kara" coming from behind him, he was taken aback, and turned his face to look behind him.
I saw those marble statues that were previously fixed on the wall moving slowly. They broke free from their original positions, and their pale faces turned straight to Mo Yi from various angles. Their pale eye sockets were hollow and Staring at him without focus, countless fine stones and wall coverings fell to the ground with the movement, making a rustling sound, which was particularly ear-piercing in the silent hall.
The marble statues approached slowly and stiffly, and the butler was also pressing closer, staring at him with empty eyes without focus, and the hoarse voice was intermittent like a broken tape:
“… wrong… broken…”
Mo Yi's heart skipped a beat, and the moment his eyes touched the frantic and distorted expression on the butler's stiff face, he knew that the current situation might not be able to communicate.
Mo Yi's face was calm, his mind was like lightning, and the palm hanging by his side was cold and steady.
Then it can only be preemptive.
He turned around and picked up the decorative porcelain on the shelf next to him, swung his arms and smashed it towards the butler's head. The action was fierce and decisive, and there was a crisp sound, and the porcelain fragments split instantly on the butler's head. Like grand snowflakes, they scattered on the ground one after another, making a crisp sound of jingling.
The butler's face was instantly cracked with spider web-like black cracks, making him look even more hideous. There was a huge gash in his face, but no blood flowed out, only sharp and irregular pale spots could be seen. The edges are inlaid on his skull.
A sweet and icy taste permeated the air.
The moment Mo Yi moved, Wen Chen no longer stood still, wisps of mist spread from his body, entwined around the marble statues that were rushing towards Mo Yi, the seemingly soft and thin mist seemed like a real body It seems to grab their joints, making them unable to move forward - after all, although he can't directly do anything to the bosses in the dungeon, it's not very difficult to trip them.
Mo Yi calmly wiped away the blood dripping from the scratch on his palm, and threw away the remaining porcelain fragments in his hand.
The housekeeper hasn't stopped moving, but is still struggling to break free from the shackles around him.
Mo Yi squatted down and looked sideways at the inside of his broken skull—hollow and stone.
Sure enough, he was also a marble statue.
However, the difference is that the thin viscous liquid in his skull is not dirty dark gray, but black, white and red intertwined.
Mo Yi reached out and picked up a piece of debris from the ground, being careful not to let the liquid on it get on his fingers, he handed it to the housekeeper and asked softly:
"what is this?"
The butler's face looked distorted and ugly, and his black eye sockets seemed to have lost his sanity, and he murmured the same words over and over again in a hoarse and sharp voice like a broken tape recorder:
“… wrong… broken…”
It seems that it is impossible to communicate.
Mo Yi threw away the fragments in disappointment, then looked down at the watch on his hand: time is running out.
He sighed, lifted the small solid wooden shelf that had placed the porcelain, and smashed it hard on the same place on the butler's head.
——He finally stopped moving completely, most of his face was shattered, marble fragments were scattered all over the carpet, and at the same moment, other marble statues in the room seemed to be taken out of life in an instant No more action.
It looked like a mess at a murder scene.
Mo Yi threw away the things at hand, rubbed his numb arms, and let out a long breath.
Wen Chen walked up to him and asked in a deep voice, "Are you okay?"
His gaze touched the tiny bloodstain on Mo Yi's palm, and he frowned slowly, looking a little annoyed.
Mo Yi looked up at him, shook his head and said, "It doesn't hurt."
"My authority in the dungeon is limited." Wen Chen pursed his lips, a trace of pain flashed between his brows and eyes: "...I'm sorry."
He couldn't directly attack the boss in the dungeon, and he couldn't even directly help Mo Yi find clues. The only thing he could do was to be the last insurance against Mo Yi's real danger. He seldom put himself in that situation, and even if such a thing did happen, Wen Chen had no doubt that Mo Yi could handle the situation well with his own ability—this sense of powerlessness that was almost useless made him Very guilty.
Mo Yi shook his head: "Even without authority, you have made my work a lot easier, and you don't owe me anything in the first place, so what can I apologize for?"
He smiled, raised his hand and rubbed Wen Chen's hair into a mess, and said:
"Let's go, time is running out."
Just as he was turning around to leave, Mo Yi glanced at the ground inadvertently from the corner of his eye. He couldn't help being taken aback, and looked intently - he saw the viscous liquid of black, white and red flowing from the butler's shattered skull on the ground. I don't know when it has turned into a dark, dirty gray