What is this? Is it a ghost? He Qin looked at it from the reflection of the stone tablet and said it was a ghost. Its body was too thin and barren, like a shadow squeezed out from the cracks, filtered by the air and made translucent.
However, because of this, this kind of existence that almost blends in with the surrounding colors and is difficult to see makes it even more terrifying when it is discovered at first.
It seemed to be closer to him.
While He Qin was observing it, it was also slowly shortening the distance from He Qin. He Qin just stood motionless, waiting until the ghost walked through the shadows and touched the ray of afternoon sunlight cast in the center of the lobby. He Qin then walked away and took his eyes away from the stone tablet.
It is not afraid of the sun, or in other words, in this illusion, it does not need to be afraid of the sun.
He Qin moved very fast, and he tried his best to avoid everything that could reflect light. However, there were too many glass windows, mirrors, and polished objects in the monastery, and he couldn't get away from these things even when he went around. Gradually, out of the corner of his eye, he could catch a line of black shadow floating back and forth, getting closer to him every time, becoming more complete and more human-like every time.
He Qin walked leisurely. He relied on his memory to walk through the bedrooms where nuns and monks lived, as well as the kitchen, wine cellar and toilet where people should be there at all times. In the end, these places were all empty except for the nine people drinking and having fun in the dining hall. - Including the dead person he is currently playing - there is no living person walking around.
"Well..." He nodded, "I almost know it. Can I go out early?"
As soon as he said these words, the scenery in front of him suddenly changed. When the copy popped him out, it also made him fall on the chair like Wen Zheliu.
"How's it going?" Wen Zheliu came over eagerly, "Are you not hurt?"
He Qin rubbed his head: "No, I have a vague idea of what happened, but the cause of death may be a little different."
"What is it?" Du Zijun asked immediately.
"It was morning when Ningning went in. She was in her room. When I went in, it was at noon and I had dinner with the remaining eight registered guests." He Qin said, "So the time you went in should be in the evening. and Midnight. There are only these nine people in the fantasy copy, but you can't interact with them. Even if the scene reappears, you can't hear the content of other people's words and can only act by yourself. However, from my observation, the identities of these nine people do have question."
Xie Yuanyuan couldn't help but asked: "What's the problem?"
"Now it can only be said to be speculation. From their words and deeds, to their momentum, and the details on their bodies, they don't look like letters coming up the mountain for help, but more like... doves occupying a magpie's nest." He Qin touched his lips and gave thoughtfully. One answer is, "To be more specific, I may have to wait until you go in and explore."
After thinking for a while, he added: "Also, stay away from reflective things, there are ghosts."
"There is a ghost." These two words made Xie Yuanyuan shudder. He asked, "Well... if it were me, would I still be discovered by a ghost?"
"Most likely." Wen Zheliu replied, "Because in the dungeon, you are not you, but the role you play. What the ghost sees is not you, but the shell you are wearing."
"But I think," Du Zijun interjected, "if it were this guy, maybe even the data shell would be downplayed."
"Then let's go in and give it a try." Xie Yuanyuan shrugged, feeling a little anxious in his heart, "After all, I also want to see the effect of my ability."
"Don't be so scared that you cry...!"
Tip: Start teleporting the third player.
Before he finished speaking, Du Zijun disappeared from the spot.
"... It's fine." Wen Zheliu thoughtfully added the second half of the sentence, "Well, Yuanyuan is the last one."
Du Zijun landed on the cold and hard ground with a plop.
"... Damn you." He murmured and cursed secretly, got up and patted his skirt, "You are so damned."
At this moment, the sky was getting dark, and everything was exactly what He Qin said. It was evening when he came in.
Where should I go to see it
From the small town with endless death scenes to the mysterious and strange monastery on the mountain, the deceased with a confusing identity and the dean who did not know the truth or lies, the whole incident seemed to be shrouded in a fog that could not be blown away. What is the relationship between the Holy Sisters and this monastery? Why did her lover die? What does these so-called believers who have died and lingering souls have to do with her
Everything is unknown and solved by the frenulum. Du Zijun frowned, puzzled.
"There are too few clues," he thought. "If I hadn't known about the relationship between the Holy Nun and this world before, I'm afraid I would still be more confused now."
Du Zijun looked around, and also smelled the lingering rich blood. The Scarborough Market was hanging on his waist, shining brightly.
- There are supernatural creatures dormant nearby, and they are extremely hostile to him.
He frowned and clicked his tongue impatiently.
It doesn't matter if you are a human or a ghost, if you dare to come over and do it, it will be over. I'm afraid it's the kind of thing that hides in the dark and scares people when it comes out from time to time.
He was about to walk forward when the tip of his shoe suddenly touched something. He looked down and saw that it was a sharpened axe, which was shining with a cold yellow light in the evening twilight.
"Axe?" Remembering what Wen Zheliu said about the room decorations, he bent down and took it in his hand, "Why are you here?"
Du Zijun turned around and looked around, and saw that this was a corridor outside the room. He immediately thought of a possibility. Could it be that the deceased heard something or something happened outside the door, so he came out to patrol with a self-defense weapon.
"It's very possible," he nodded to himself, "I just don't know what happened. How about I go take a look around?"
As soon as he left, he held the Scarborough Fair in his left hand and the ax in his right hand. He sniffed the air with his nose and followed the bloody end. As soon as he turned the corner, he saw a door open. Several people stood there motionless and didn't speak, just staring at the door blankly.
"Fuck," Du Zijun's heart skipped a beat, "What are you doing, standing at the funeral and not talking, are they all dead?"
The ax handle skillfully turned in a circle in his hand, holding it firmly in his palm in a posture ready to attack. Du Zijun's waist and abdomen were slightly arched, and he stepped forward slowly and cautiously.
There was a corpse lying in the room with an extremely miserable appearance. The tragedy even exceeded the scope of normal human death. Seven men surrounded it. Their thick beards and dim candlelight could not hide their pale faces. They talked to each other. Looking at each other, they muttered and repeated a word.
Du Zijun couldn't hear the content of their words, but he could guess what they were talking about from the repeated mouth patterns.
"died."
"he died."
"died."
He turned his eyes back to the ground again. Ninety percent of the body was intact. The clothes, the wine bottle in his hand, and the gold-plated pendant on his chest were all intact except for the hair above the neck. The upper part was completely ground into a pulp, and the bones and blood were smeared on the ground, leaving a regular big circle on the ground.
... This way of death, no one would believe it if it was not done by ghosts.
At this time, one of the men among them suddenly shouted, and Du Zijun quickly raised his eyes and glanced,
There was a dark scar under his eyelids. His expression was full of fear at the moment. He took a few steps back tremblingly, then turned around and ran away.
This move seemed to be some kind of switch. After him, the remaining six people didn't even dare to collect the body, so they hurriedly turned away and quickly left the murder site.
Du Zijun looked at their backs thoughtfully. Why did he always feel that these people had the same guilty conscience as thieves
Thinking of He Qin's evaluation of this group of people, "the dove occupies the magpie's nest", Du Zijun suddenly sneered.
"Okay, I understand." Du Zijun squatted down, pulled the gold-plated pendant on the corpse's chest, and took a leisurely glance, only to realize that it was not a gold-plated pendant, but a polished bullet, shining brightly. The color of brass is comparable to the color of gold under the light.
"7.92x57mm... Mauser kar98k bullets? Ordinary believers, wearing perforated 98k bullets?" Du Zijun smiled again, "I understand... so that's how it is."
He stood up. This time, he seemed to understand the key, and many clues that he seemed not to want to do could be carefully connected.
"Xinke, doves occupying the magpie's nest, and their appearance of having something evil in mind..." He muttered, and when he raised his head inadvertently, he was suddenly startled.
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On the wall facing him hung a picture of the Virgin.
The most indispensable thing in a Catholic monastery is a portrait of the Virgin, and he and Xie Yuanyuan also have one like this in their room. But what caught his eye was not the Madonna, but the changes in the Madonna.
I don't know if Du Zijun was dazzled, but the tears flowing on her face seemed to gradually ooze the color of blood, and her rosy face seemed to become paler and thinner. The color on the corolla gradually withered and melted, and even the corolla itself melted into There were flowing candles, dripping from the top of my head.
... No, this is not Du Zijun's illusion, the statue of the Virgin is really undergoing some strange and terrifying changes!
The Virgin was originally sitting sideways, but now she has turned to face the outside of the frame. The background and veil behind her are black, only her face has become as pale as a dead person, and her sunken eye sockets are like two black holes. At the entrance, six dazzling blood tears dripped down the cheekbones, dyeing the lips a hideous blood red.
Du Zijun's back stiffened as he faced the Madonna in the portrait - or the ferocious ghost. Scarborough Market felt hot, and even automatically spun out a lavender magic circle. The surrounding air was solid and cold, waiting for an opportunity to explode at any time.
At this moment, the female ghost in the frame completely pointed her body at Du Zijun in front of her, her bloody lips suddenly opened, revealing an indescribable twisted and horrifying smile!
The author has something to say: Hey everyone, you are all Hehe’s little darlings, don’t pay attention to the malicious comments!
If you want to accuse me of plagiarism... or you don't even need to accuse me of plagiarism, you can accuse me of borrowing from others or not knowing how to avoid suspicion. Just compare the palette directly. If there are more, just say 8.