"In the outside world, our ability is released by our own [spirit], but in the strange world, it is different, we only need to use the spirit to activate it, but correspondingly, an ability can only be used in one [spiritual] adventure once."
After finishing speaking, Barnard stretched out his rough hands, and held the golden bowl closest to him tremblingly.
"I drank it?"
I don't know if it was to Jenkins or to the man in black.
A bean-sized bead of sweat slid down from the middle-aged man's temple, and dripped clearly on the front of his black coat in front of Jenkins' eyes.
"Boy, if I take a sip this time, I will die, and you are lucky enough to go out and go directly to the church of [Lightless Moon] to inform me of my death. By the way, my full name is Wayne Slabin Ba Nader."
"Sir, we shall all live."
Jenkins swallowed. Although it is not the choice he will face, he has to say something in this situation:
"Otherwise, let me drink first. You have more experience than me, and you can get more information through my results." He carefully suggested that the probability of choosing one out of ten and one out of nine is not much different.
"Hehe, boy, thank you very much. But I haven't made it so low as to let the little rookie find the way for me."
The two never mentioned the idea of killing the man in black from the beginning to the end, because the man in black just sat in front of them, and his aura had already paralyzed their hands and feet. Finger out.
Without saying anything more, Barnard wiped off the fine beads of sweat on his forehead with his left hand, held the bowl with his right hand and drank it with his head raised.
Jenkins was panting heavily, and he didn't know whether it was because of the thin air in the unventilated room, or because his heart was beating too fast, and he was in the same mood as when he drew the card with a golden back.
After a second as if time stood still, Barnard heaved a sigh of relief and put down the golden bowl in his hand.
"Sir, are you all right?"
Even knowing it was his turn next, Jenkins breathed a sigh of relief.
Barnard turned his head stiffly, a dry smile appeared on his bearded face, then he pointed to his throat and waved his hands—he was dumb.
There is no mirror now, so Jenkins can't see the expression on his face at the moment. But he finally knew that with his mouth open now, his complexion should be very pale.
After licking his chapped lips, he stretched his hand into his bosom, and after a while, he took out a few stacked newspapers, and then took out a badly worn pen from his right pocket.
The former was brought out by him from home, and he planned to tear it up and throw it in other people's yards; the latter was a gift given to Jenkins by the old William when he thought he was still alive. Although the original owner of Jenkins's body hated studying very much, he still valued his family very much, so he cherished this pen very much.
Barnard immediately understood what Jenkins meant. He took the pen and paper, didn't dare to use the table, and just wrote on the palm of his hand:
"It's okay, it's just an ordinary curse. After we go out, there will be special personnel in the church who can help me."
This may be the only good news that Jenkins has learned so far. But since it's a curse and not an injury, his healing abilities probably won't be useful.
It should be his turn next, and Barnard sat aside without urging.
The meaning of the man in black on the opposite side is that there is a high probability that both of them will drink, so even if Barnard drinks another bowl, it may be useless.
Jenkins's chest heaved violently, and various images in less than an hour after the time travel flooded his mind. It is a blessing? Is it a disaster? No one knows.
He raised his head, trying hard to see the figure under the black hood opposite, but the hood absorbed all the light from the candle like a black hole.
After watching for a long time, Jenkins seems to have a slight tinnitus.
He looked at the remaining nine golden bowls on the dirty round dining table, "Mr. Barnard, my full name is Jenkins Redandpoort Williams, and I live at 7 Privet Drive, Pennside. "
After finishing speaking, regardless of the middle-aged man's reaction, he got up and picked up the golden bowl closest to the man in black, and drank it directly.
The heart was pumping plasma at its maximum power, and the fast-flowing blood made Jenkins' head flushed red, and his cold limbs made him not even feel the weird touch in his hands.
The first touch of the lips, there was no taste, and then Jenkins felt his hand uncontrollably sending all the ** into his mouth. Now he knew how Barnard's heroic action just now came about.
When all the meat disappeared in his mouth, he put the bowl back on the table with blank eyes, and sat down again.
"What should I do now?"
He asked himself in his heart, and then suddenly realized that he survived.
The man on the side immediately pushed the newspaper with words: "How do you feel?"
"Not bad, it's like, no, I really just drank half a bowl of water."
Unexpectedly, all the revolving lanterns appeared, and the final result would be like this. Although it was a bit anticlimactic, Jenkins still thanked all the gods and Buddhas he could think of in his heart.
It was at this time that he remembered that his body now believes in the [Sage of Inheritance], which symbolizes the tenth month of each year. The priesthood of this righteous god includes knowledge, books, secrets, exploration, inheritance, etc.
Although Old William was just a small businessman before, he firmly believed that knowledge could change destiny, so the whole family of William is a believer in this god.
"May the [Sage of Inheritance] bless you, and your brilliance will illuminate the way forward for mankind."
He meditated in his heart.
The normal prayer process should also include a set of corresponding gestures, but the original Jenkins, who was not very firm, had a very vague impression of this.
The two drank a bowl each, but nothing changed. The man in the black robe was still sitting there, making it completely impossible to see through.
"Can we go?" Jenkins did not act in vain, but asked the experienced Mr. Barnard again.
The man also looked a little dazed, he couldn't speak, he could only gesture for Jenkins not to move, and then tried to stand up by himself.
Obviously nothing happened when Jenkins stood up to take the golden bowl, but at this moment, Barnard seemed to be weighed down by a weight weighing a hundred catties, and fell heavily back onto the stake.
There was a slight crackle, and immediately a crack appeared on the side of the stake, and Jenkins was now worried about Mr. Barnard's ass.
"Are you okay?"
When he asked it, he realized that it was a stupid question.
Barnard, flushed with pain, gritted his teeth and shook his head. Fortunately, he couldn't speak now, otherwise Jenkins was worried that he would growl.
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