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Tenth Avenue, Nine.
Same as all the recipient addresses before, an ordinary two-story house with a barren front yard and no mailbox in front of the door.
Feng Bujue, who had parked his bicycle, stepped quickly onto the porch in front of the house with his satchel on his back and a shotgun in his hand.
clap clap—
"Open the door!" He yelled loudly as he knocked on the door.
I don't need to tell you what happened next... Not long after, a fat man wearing slippers came down from the second floor, opened the door a palm-width gap, and stood in the shadows and asked, "Who are you looking for?"
"Postman." Feng Bujue held up his temporary work ID card, shook it in front of the other party, then put away the ID card, took out the envelope, "deliver the letter."
"I... don't accept it." Fatty No. 10's reaction was exactly the same as that of the previous nine.
Click—
Feng Bujue picked up the shotgun, poked the muzzle into the crack of the door, and said in a deep voice, "Are you going to take it like this?"
"You... what are you going to do?" Fatty No. 10 showed fear, but he didn't run away.
"Whether to receive letters or bullets, you choose." Feng Bujue's tone didn't seem to be joking at all, and he could act very harshly when necessary.
"No... don't kill me..." Fatty No. 10 raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, "Even if you shoot, I won't take it... unless..."
"Unless I report your command code?" Feng Bujue took the other party's words and said.
"Hmm..." Fatty No. 10 nodded.
"Cut..." Brother Jue spat, and thought to himself, "Threats of force really won't work..."
Two seconds later, he lowered the gun. Then he said, "How many digits is your code?"
"Eleven." The fat man replied truthfully.
After getting the answer, Feng Bujue turned his head and left, running on his bicycle.
...
In the next forty minutes, Brother Jue visited the eleventh, twelfth and thirteen recipients respectively.
The last three, without exception. Also all fat. Their voices, personalities, reactions, etc... are also consistent with the top ten recipients.
Feng Bujue didn't talk too much with these guys, he basically tried everything he could, so he didn't ask anything except the number of digits in the command code.
At 2:50 in the afternoon, Brother Jue came to the abandoned mailbox in the Zhenbei Cemetery again.
At this moment, an envelope appeared on the ground next to the mailbox.
Although there is no wind around. But there was still a stone on top of the envelope.
"I really replied..." Feng Bujue muttered, and went to pick up the envelope.
This is a khaki envelope, which can be felt in the hand, and there is only a thin piece of paper inside. Brother Jue carefully tore it open and took out the letter paper inside. Then...he discovered a very puzzling thing—both sides of the letter paper were blank.
"Again?" Feng Bujue couldn't help complaining, "Invisible ink? Wordless scripture?" His complaints were the same as when he received the "newspaper".
While speaking, he held the letter in front of his eyes and observed it carefully, making sure that there were no writing marks and any smell on the paper.
"Hmm... what exactly do you mean..." Feng Bujue pondered, subconsciously supported his right elbow with his left hand, slightly joined the index finger and middle finger of his right hand, and traced the tip of his nose along his forehead. This habitual thinking action can make his thinking run more smoothly. "If the paper had just been left by the mailbox, it might have been misunderstood - it was just a piece of paper that was thrown away. But right now, it's in an envelope and it's being held down by a rock. … This setting is telling me. This blank sheet of paper is really the 'reply letter'."
After thinking for a while, a flash of inspiration suddenly appeared in his mind: "Eh? Could it be..."
In the next second, Brother Jue took out the previous newspaper from his satchel, and flipped through the blank pages in the middle: "An indirect reminder..." Thinking of this, he simply sat on the ground with the letter in one hand. Holding the newspaper in one hand, he muttered. "This 'reply letter' is indeed without content...but the 'no content' can also be a reminder." His eyes moved to the newspaper, "Prompt me..." The answer just seemed blank place'."
Thinking of this level, Feng Bujue tore off the first page of the newspaper.
The front of this page is the meaningless front page headline, while the reverse is the second edition with no text and only illustrations.
The illustration photo for the second edition shows a brick wall with a tree standing in front of it. At first glance, this is another landscape photo, but if you look closely, you can see... There are bicycle tire marks on the ground below the picture.
"Okay, let me see... The quality of this newspaper is so-so, so it's probably impossible to display fire and water..." Feng Bujue held the "experimental product" in his hand, thinking, "Now I can try There are ways..." He reached out to the shotgun while thinking, but retracted it after a second, "Wait... If the props needed to solve the puzzle are the gunpowder in the bullet, Brother Ghost should It would be better to give the puzzle after I get this gun..." He touched his chin and said, "That is to say... the thing that can make the prompt 'appear', was it already on me at that time..."
Then, like a child in a natural science class, Brother Jue showed an expression of great interest, took out a bunch of props from his pocket, and arranged them in a row on the grass.
"Come on one by one..." As he said, he held up the first prop.
In the next five minutes, he first tried to read the content of the newspaper through the camera of his mobile phone; then he used a ballpoint pen and a pencil to draw a small area on the paper; Gently scrape a few areas of the newspaper.
Unfortunately, these attempts all ended in failure...
"Well... this is not right, I have to change my mind again..." he read as he picked up the seasoning bottle with salt. This is the last item on him that might be used to solve the puzzle.
hiss...
Well... this last attempt worked. When those white salt grains were sprinkled on the newspaper, wisps of white smoke emerged from the paper, and there was a slight burnt smell in the smoke. This is clearly not how paper should react when it encounters salt...
[14.52, 7.66, tree trunk] A few seconds later, a line of smoky carbon-colored text appeared on the blank page next to the illustration.
"Ha! Got it!" Feng Bujue's smile appeared at the same time as the words in the newspaper. He really didn't expect that the key item to solve the puzzle would be the salt shaker found from the felt hat brother.
After the experiment is successful, the next thing is simple. Jue Ge deciphered the other twelve pages in the middle of the newspaper one by one, and got thirteen pieces of similar information in total.
"If there is no accident... the first two numbers are the coordinates." After Feng Bujue wrote down all the reminders, his expression became very relaxed. A miniature map. And the term that follows each coordinate is undoubtedly to be seen in conjunction with the 'illustration'."
At this moment, Brother Jue roughly understood the meaning of these prompts. Coincidentally, the coordinates on the second edition are the one closest to him at present. So, in order to verify his reasoning, he quickly packed up the things at hand, got back on the bicycle, and set off there.
In less than five minutes, Feng Bujue arrived near the coordinates [14.52, 7.66] on the mini-map (due to the size of the map, it is impossible for him to stand on a certain point precisely, at most he would be nearby). After searching for a while, he saw the brick wall in the illustration and the big tree planted in front of the wall.
"The tree trunk, right..." Feng Bujue parked his bicycle and walked over with a shotgun in his hand.
He cautiously approached the target step by step, as if the tree would suddenly turn into a monster and attack him. However, the final result proved... He was the one who worried too much. The tree in front of me is just a very ordinary tree, and there is no fg or .
The only valuable thing here is an Arabic numeral carved on the trunk—1.()R0
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