"Any statement that promotes hope is actually a statement of fear - Spinoza."
Coleiya closed the book with "Theological-Political Treatise" written on the cover and leaned back in the soft leather chair.
She casually threw the book on the table, then gently stroked her face.
“Isn’t this a cruel bittersweet pleasure?”
She said to herself.
She took off the gloves she had been wearing, and found a burn mark under the gloves.
"After all these years, you are still as beautiful as ever, sister. It's a pity that you can't recognize my face."
There is a subtle wrinkle on Coreya's neck, and it is obvious that her current face has been adjusted through surgery.
Just as she was immersed in reminiscing about the past, one of the Innsmouth people opened the door and walked into her room.
"Why do you have to say so much today?"
The man asked in a ferocious tone.
"Oh, that's because the Einstadt family has a relatively important social status, and the Jews are always cautious by nature. It's difficult to persuade them without saying a few words."
This is how Ke Leya defended herself.
“Haha, don’t forget your current identity.
Your current life, status, and beautiful face are all brought to you by us.
Don’t forget our mission.”
The man said these harsh words and turned away.
Coreya smiled bitterly and looked at the files on the table, one of which contained information about Veronica's identity as an investigator.
Perhaps as a warning from a relative, Coreya vaguely provided Veronica with a lot of information.
But whether or not this information can be obtained from it depends on Veronica's ability.
——
"Ms. Veronica, I want to go home today."
Ms. Pollitt said to Veronica who was leaning against the window.
"Well, you can go early and come back early.
Come back and explain to me why you are so anxious today."
Veronica replied.
"Okay, Miss Veronica. I'll go check it out and be back soon."
Ms. Pollitt was all smiles now and said happily.
Her son hasn't been home for more than a month since he secretly went to the casino last time, and such a terrible thing happened again today.
Ms. Pollitt couldn't wait to get back and cook her son a good dinner and give him a good bath.
“I must be homesick after not being home for so many days.
I went back and changed his bed into a new set of sheets and a soft mattress.
He will be very happy.”
Ms. Pollitt, who still didn't know about her son's death, thought so.
When she got home and opened the door, she saw a burlap bag.
Some bright red oozed out of the bottom of the sack, and Mrs. Pollitt's face changed. She thought of something she had never dared to imagine.
"No, no, no, that's impossible. They said they would bring him back."
Mrs. Pollitt approached the large sack step by step with trembling hands.
The mouth of the sack was not fastened, but was simply roughly tied with a rope.
Mrs. Pollitt's hands were shaking like a Parkinson's patient. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and pulled hard to loosen the rope wrapped around the bag.
The bag was filled with internal organs, flesh, bones, and a blood-stained note.
Mrs. Pollitt gritted her teeth, resisted the urge to feel nauseous and vomit, and took out the note.
It said, "Mom, I'm home."
Mrs. Pollitt's knees gave way and she fell to the ground, mumbling indistinctly,
"Son, my dear son, where are you?"
Mrs. Pollitt seemed not to have seen the bag of flesh and blood, and walked out of the room as if she had lost her soul.
The door was wide open, but she didn't care.
"Son, my son. My good son."
She walked to the river alone, letting the weeds by the river cut her ankles without caring.
The wind on the river bank ruffled Mrs. Pollitt's hair, and she stared blankly at the rushing water.
The water splashed on the river bank, and reflected a rainbow under the sunlight.
Mrs. Pollitt's eyes were red and two hot tears flowed from her sockets. She seemed to see her young son in the river.
Mrs. Pollitt smiled, took off her shoes on the river bank, and walked towards the center of the river with a smile on her face.
The pain from the water hitting her body was far less than the trauma in her heart, and the gravel under the water cut the skin on the soles of her feet.
The water flowed over her head and the cold water choked her mouth and nose, but she did not resist at all and let the water take her life.
As she lay dying, she seemed to hear her son calling her.
That is the call from the other side.
——
A dilapidated little wooden boat was docked beside the cliff, and at this moment the little wooden boat looked particularly small in the dark environment.
A faint light shone from the cabin, and a man slowly woke up in the cabin.
He felt that everything around him gave him a sense of familiarity, as if it had happened before.
He slowly walked out of the cabin, and what caught his eye was the jellyfish floating in the sky. The huge, crystal-clear body was floating carefree in the air, shining with colorful light.
We were on the deck of a small wooden boat, and the sky looked like a dark blue curtain.
Under the cover of the curtain, it is difficult to tell whether it is day or night. The only source of light is the jellyfish in the sky.
A huge green figure appeared behind the small wooden boat, staring at the people on the deck with a pair of cold and terrifying eyes.
He turned around on the deck and looked into the eyes of the horrible monster. He covered his face and roared desperately and hysterically, but he could not make any sound under the cover of the curtain.
He walked to the edge of the deck and jumped off the cliff below the ship, thinking,
"That will end it."
His body continued to fall, and he opened his arms to prepare for the fatal impact the moment he touched the ground.
Countless bubbles emerged from the boundless mountains beneath him, like the mountains' breath.
He turned and glanced at the dark sky.
“It turns out the world is upside down.”
Master Nietzsche woke up from this nightmare again. He covered his head and clenched his teeth in pain.
He looked at the familiar layout and scenes in the hotel, which gave him a slight sense of security.
His life had become somewhat dull and mediocre recently, with the people and things around him just going about their normal lives.
For some reason, this peace brought Master Nietzsche a sense of emptiness. He did not know when this extraordinary thought began to arise in his heart.
He didn't know if he was crazy, but he began to doubt everything around him.
The definition of truth and falsehood became a major focus of his thinking.
Whenever Master Nietzsche thought of that recurring and terrifying dream, he could not stop his trembling hands.
He walked into the bathroom, looked at his haggard self in the mirror, and touched the smooth surface of the mirror.
"Tell me, what is real?"
Master Nietzsche stretched out his hand and held hands with himself in the mirror, and asked himself in the mirror.
He stared at his appearance in the mirror, hoping that the self in the mirror could give him a satisfactory answer.
The person in the mirror had red eyes, scary dark circles, and a face full of stubble, looking very haggard.
Master Nietzsche looked at himself in the mirror for a while, then sighed, shook his head, and left the bathroom.
But Nietzsche in the mirror showed a strange smile, and then a crack appeared on the mirror in the bathroom.
Master Nietzsche walked out of the bathroom and saw an envelope made of butter parchment under the door.
There was no signature on it, but Master Nietzsche knew that the letter should be addressed to himself.
"Want to know the truth about the world
Want to understand the mysteries of the universe
Want to know what's going on in your troubled dreams
In three days, we will create history, rewrite history, and achieve history.
In three days, we will transcend time, space and concepts.
The most grand party in the world is waiting for the arrival of the host, and you, Master Nietzsche, will be the guest of this party.
We'll be waiting for you at Luther Castle."
This letter was sent silently to Master Nietzsche by Frederick. No one knew the content of the letter except Elphis and Frederick.
If an ordinary person received this letter, they would probably think it was a prank created by a rebellious teenager.
However, the person who received this letter was Master Nietzsche.
That dream, which was so real that it made one's hair stand on end when one recalled it, had haunted Master Nietzsche since he became an adult.
The fear brought to him by the existence that looked into his eyes in the dream far exceeded the majesty of the holy light that people talked about, which also led to Master Nietzsche's philosophical and theological views being different from those of others.
When Master Nietzsche was young, he studied Plato's monism, and the monistic view deeply moved him who was troubled by dreams.
To put it simply, monism is the extreme of atheism. According to the exaggerated description method of religion, it is undesirable for people to believe in a god.
Nature is the real God, and nature created the universe; God is just a product of people's visualization, humanization and personification of the power of nature.
Such arguments were rejected by various theologians, but after being tortured by dreams, Master Nietzsche realized that the thing in the dream was not comparable to the so-called gods, but an existence far beyond the level of gods.
With Master Nietzsche's limited knowledge of mysticism at the time, he believed that the eyes he saw in his dream symbolized nature.
Master Nietzsche once sought help from dream interpreters, but those dream interpreters used the simple arguments from Plato's "The Interpretation of Dreams" to deal with him.
Some of them said that this was produced in Master Nietzsche's subconscious mind, some said that Master Nietzsche suffered from deep-sea phobia, and some said that maybe Master Nietzsche just hated eating seafood, but Master Nietzsche himself understood it.
This dream is an endless cycle;
Every time I fall asleep, the dream begins again; every time I jump off the deck, the dream ends.
"If I could, I want to end this damn dream."
Master Nietzsche looked at the letter and murmured.
He glanced at the calendar and saw that the opening ceremony of the Munich Music Festival would be in three days.
After so many episodes, it is finally time for the Munihei Music Festival to officially open.
——
The cemetery on the outskirts of Umr has added a lot of tombstones after the tragedy of Umr.
The vigil keepers living in the cemetery have several more neighbors who are buried underground.
They can't speak, but just lie quietly in the coffin, waiting for their bodies to rot, be eaten by maggots, and then become nutrients for the earth once again.
People occasionally visit the graves of their deceased relatives or friends and come to commemorate their past youth, but more often than not, only ravens will comb their feathers on the tombstones.
The funeral keeper who turned into a black cat would chase these annoying ravens from time to time. This was his only pleasure.
Until one day, the staff that the vigil keeper always carried with him lit up, and the vigil keeper's peaceful days were broken.
After a long life, the vigil keeper is no longer the young and dull knight, he has become old and frail.
After seeing the vicissitudes of life over the years, the person keeping vigil knows that his life is almost coming to an end.
There were only two things that made him sigh and feel regretful.
First, his beloved Aetina would never come back, and her soul belonged to the unfathomable Ibo Zitel who lived in the dreamland.
Even though he had entered the dreamland through self-hypnosis, all the creatures in the dreamland, except for those cute little cats, seemed to be strongly hostile to him, an outsider with the aura of Anubis.
Every trip to the Dreamland was an adventure that could be written into a novel, but in the end he still did not find the Old One who was said to be omniscient and omnipotent.
The mourner understood that this was because He was unwilling to see him. If Ipo Zitel really knew him and was interested in him, He would find him no matter where he was.
Second, the mourner still couldn't remember the name of the girl who sacrificed herself for him among the lost souls.
The person keeping vigil could not remember anything, whether it was his appearance, figure or life.
Only the laughter as clear as wind chimes and the word "big fool" lingered in his heart like a brand and could not be erased.
The mourner looked at the message conveyed by the staff and realized that his mission was about to be completed.
He had a simple meal in the hut guarding the tomb.
A piece of brown bread, a bowl of broth, and an orange.
After eating, he simply washed the dishes and put them away.
The mourner went out, taking a few pieces of clothing with him.
He looked back at the shabby little house and left without any reluctance.
There was a piece of paper left on the table with a sentence written on it. This was the message left by the mourner for the investigation bureau.
“The King’s Feast is about to begin, and the guardians must move forward.
—Silas"