The owner of the bookstore is a gray-haired old woman. She wears reading glasses and sits on a rocking chair next to the counter. There is a basket of wool on her lap, and she is knitting a sweater with two slender wooden knitting needles.
Hearing that the door of the store was pushed open, he just slowly raised his head and took a look. After confirming that the person who came in was a stranger, he didn't say anything, he didn't even welcome the guests, but continued to lower his head and knit a sweater with red wool.
Jenkins didn't speak when he saw this, and walked quietly to the middle of the bookshelf to find suitable reading materials.
The books on the bookshelf seem to be as old as the old woman. After checking one by one, Jenkins found that most of these books were published 20 years ago. Apart from the country tabloids in the corner and a few romantic novels, it was a shabby museum of old books.
"Excuse me, is there any detective knight passing on this book?"
Jenkins could only go to the counter and ask the owner.
"There are still some books in the warehouse at the back, where you can find them yourself."
The owner said without raising his head, Jenkins looked around:
"I go by my own?"
What he meant was that it was inappropriate for a stranger like himself to enter someone else's warehouse alone.
"Do you want me, an old woman, to help you find books? Young people nowadays are becoming more and more impolite."
She murmured and complained about Jenkins, and Jenkins could only push open the side door and enter the yard. There is a black hunting dog in the yard behind the bookstore, and it is lying in its den because it is raining.
Hearing the sound of the door opening, he looked up and saw that it was a stranger, and immediately got out and yelled at Jenkins, but because of the chain around his neck, he couldn't jump at him and bite him.
Even without the newly acquired abilities, Jenkins knew the dog thought he was the bad guy. Unlike natural-living animals that are naturally close to Jenkins, such domesticated pets seem to have lost their spirituality.
Jenkins glanced at the snarling dog, and walked around the kennel to the warehouse.
The warehouse has not been cleaned for a long time, and there is a layer of dust on the floor. Even because Jenkins opened the door so hard that the dust flew into the air and made him cough.
The area of this warehouse is far less than the warehouse in the backyard of Papa's Antique Store, but because those old books are piled up in cardboard boxes one by one, there are still a lot of them.
Jenkins rummaged through it with great interest, and actually found the first print of the first volume of "The Legend of the Detective Knight". But both the original owner and him have read this book many times, so I thought about finding some other books to pass the boring waiting time in the small town.
Not long after, he found a whole box of "Secrets of Black Town". Judging from the foreword of the book, this is a third-rate writer born in Black Town. He compiled the rumors and stories in the town into a book and successfully published it. . This is the newest book in this bookstore, published three months ago. The author even mentioned Jenkins' Stranger Tales, saying that he was inspired by Nolan's writer and compiled the strange stories and legends in the countryside into fairy tales.
But judging from the books piled up here, the sales volume of the books is obviously not ideal.
"Just this one, it's pretty interesting."
Jenkins thought for a while and took one at random, then walked to the counter to pay.
After dinner that evening, Jenkins didn't go out again, but after washing up, he changed into pajamas and went to bed at eight o'clock. I extinguished all the lights in the room, leaving only the candles on the bedside table, and next to the candles were small snacks and hot tea from the kitchen.
He got under the quilt and erected the pillow, picked up the resting cat beside the pillow, and pulled out the book under it. After twisting my fingers and flipping through the title page, preface and table of contents, the title of the first story immediately came into view:
"Ghouls in the Graveyard"
He looked at it by the light of the candle with a smile on his face, and found that it was describing the horror story that happened in the town's public cemetery passed down by the townspeople.
Like most scare stories in urban cemeteries that have rich backgrounds, this one begins with a poignant and tragic love story, and the result of this love is two resentful corpses. He returned to the human world shortly after the burial.
"Rather than a ghoul, this description is more like a living corpse that was unexpectedly revived, which belongs to a low-level undead creature."
Jenkins commented, and then reached out and touched the back of the sleeping cat curled up in a ball, Chocolate squinted and let out a pleasant meow.
Even Jenkins, lying on the bed and reading a book is very easy to get sleepy, not to mention the warm bed and dim light, which made his drowsiness to the extreme.
Even though the book in his hand was interesting, after he yawned so many times, his eyelids began to close uncontrollably. He didn't know when he fell asleep, and when he realized he was asleep, he was already standing in front of the gate of the public cemetery in Blacktown.
The church in the town is next to the cemetery, and Jenkins passed by it today. He turned his head and looked into the distance. In the thin white mist, the church spire loomed in the distance.
It was probably night, but there were no stars or moon overhead either. The surrounding area was very dark, and the air was filled with thick white mist of suspicious composition. It was all a little unreal, and Jenkins soon realized that he was dreaming, and it was an unusual dream.
Since possessing the ability of [Dream Soul Leaving Body], the frequency of his dreams has dropped significantly. And once you encounter a dream that you can clearly realize is a dream, then it is definitely not a normal dream.
"interesting."
Sniffing his nose, he called out his cane, stretched out his hand and pushed it lightly. Amidst the ear-piercing creaking sound, the iron gate of the cemetery was pushed open, and a path made of broken stones stretched from under his feet to the depths of the cemetery. at the end of the thick fog.
He stepped forward and approached the dense fog. He felt the spirit of life in the cemetery with a highly tense spirit, but there seemed to be no living things here, not even weeds and ants. The power of two groups of dead spirits that completely contradicted life.
"Is it really a dream? Doesn't it have something to do with the book I just read?"
The deeper you go into the cemetery, the more you can feel something is wrong with the surroundings. There is every reason to believe that this cemetery has been imbued with the ritual effect of [Aura of Fear], and the coldness of the air is very similar to the high-level undead ritual. adverse effects. Although I think this is a dream for the time being, but this dream is really very real, and the logic is completely self-consistent.
Suddenly there was a sound of wind, but it was not wind, but something moving fast around.