Restricted Doomsday Syndrome

Chapter 1242: News of death

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Bursting, retreating, throwing the hook rope, pulling the weird footsteps. Standing at the entrance of the altar, the narrow space prevents any weirdness with huge volume or sensitive movement from moving normally. Too many numbers, let them be used as shields before being solved by me. They don't have much wit, they can't leave the stairs and climb up from the side mountain. They are also unable to fly and cannot use long-range attacks. They have different shapes, humanoid, animal-like, and completely different from the two, so that it is impossible to tell what shape they are from the human aesthetic, but these superficial appearances have not shown matching actions. Ability and knowledge, they look like beasts.

Even so, if left unchecked, the offensiveness they exhibit at this time, and their physique capabilities beyond normal humans, will inevitably cause great danger to ordinary people. Not everyone, like me, has gone through hundreds of battles, nor everyone can tolerate the taste, grotesque and horrible appearance that accompanies them. I just arrived at this nightmare, so it ’s not clear, those in residential areas Whether mental patients will collapse when they see them, and whether normal people will go crazy when they see them.

Even, when I look at them, I can't help but create an association-do they look different from what they see in other people's eyes?

I ’m not sure about too many things, but it makes me think that I must do this. The reason for killing these weirdness lies in what I have observed and the possibility of guessing based on these observations. As well as the expectations of some people around, including old Hawk's unwillingness and pain that he secretly expressed before his death. And the first impression of the humanoid woman named "Department" when I opened my eyes, as well as my concerns about Ma Suo, who was also selected as a routine patient in the Peninsula Mental Hospital.

Suppose at this moment, in the Peninsula Hospital. All the drug testers who took the new drugs in the seminar-I can almost be sure that all the patients who are diagnosed as patients-will enter this nightmare, so the ugly and crazy weirdness in front of them will probably also appear in them. In front of you. What we see is roughly the same. And you may suffer a certain degree of influence when acting in this nightmare.

Although these influences are subtle, the words left by old Hawk have to be alert.

Perhaps one day in the future, I can save all people. And I dreamed so. But at the moment, I am very clear and have accepted that I can only choose a part of people to help according to my own ideas, rather than treating everyone equally and giving help according to their expectations. On my list, in addition to family members such as Marceau, Misaki, Bajing, Xise, Dorothy and Zhenjiang. Everyone else has an order, from high to low.

I have distinguished others in my own heart. And being ashamed, it is also very clear that this is by no means a hero. But I am willing to endure this shame, this kind of dream lost sorrow, and I watched the pain that others are suffering, and chose this approach.

I have already admitted. I am not a hero anymore.

Even so, I have never been proud of myself. Instead, there is depression, depression and anger. I have been saving in my heart all the time, and will only dissipate when faced with the fear brought about by "jiang" and "virus". I think this is why I can get used to that kind of terrifying horror. Because, to me, the fear it brings is actually a kind of purification, a kind of relief.

And now, every time I wield a knife, every time I bind a weird one, drag it down, block it in front of other weird ones, let them die in helplessness, I can clearly feel that those negative emotions are normalized into one This scorching power, among these weapons, surged in this move. Instead, with each attack, my heart became more and more peaceful, as if it was slowly settling in the cold and deep lake water.

I am not particularly afraid of this phenomenon, because, through some aggressive behaviors, venting my own anger, sadness and pain and other negative emotions is an impulse that every ordinary person will have. Morality and humanity have some impulse to this impulse Bondage, but it is not, once such an act is done, it is no longer an ordinary person, it must be psychologically wrong. Instead, such an act is actually a very normal commonality.

What I felt in this nightmare, the changes in my heart and the outside, only reflected such commonality.

Therefore, I don't care, and I wouldn't make such a subjective and catastrophic attack just because I feel that such an impulse will happen, which is the beginning of some kind of alienation. As a mystery expert, I know more about alienation than ordinary people. Whether it comes from "Jiang", "Virus", or "Saya", "White Claudia", "Gray Devil", "Trojan Virus", or even doomsday shamans Masks and so on, the alienation produced has a very obvious common point, that is, this alienation is not to make good people into bad people, or to turn good-tempered people into crazy freaks, but to make people Ripped from the standard defined as "human" by itself, it becomes a non-human relative to "human" in a subtle or relatively crude manner.

And this non-human standard is not static. When people change their standards for others, those alienations from the "mystery" will still transform individuals or groups into this changed standard. Relatively inhuman.

The most obvious one is Saya, which always puts people in a "sensory distortion" state, which is always displayed in front of the infected person, and is the "false and ugly" of its own judgment standard. The form of foreign objects in observation is always forever. It ’s a gesture that the infected person hates, and it ’s not because the infected person is accustomed to these “false, evil and ugly”, they can be regarded as “truth, goodness and beauty” —because when the infected person ’s own judgment standard changes, Saya ’s Standards will also change accordingly.

This is the most terrifying part of Saya.

Compared with these terrible alienations, the power flowing out of me at this time, even if it came from my negative catharsis, is still a human category. Put it on ordinary people. If these negative emotions are not vented, it is indeed possible for people to do things that violate normal moral concepts, but for me, such changes are already a thing of the past.

Even if I am in the process of killing these weird. Feeling your own purification and tranquility, you will not aim at them purely in order to get such feelings. From the beginning, I knew very well what I was doing, and they were fighting with them here.

Knock them down. It is just the scenery that cannot be avoided in the process of reaching the goal.

Thinking this way, I used a very templated, repeated and uninnovative way to clean up the weird people who were stuck on the steps.

Although it is easy. However, the feelings brought about by the battle itself have made me understand what I am using in this nightmare, and what I am showing. In theory, there is no need to mention more. Although there are differences on the surface, in general, they are in other nightmares in the past. The power used is not very different in nature.

After all, even if the scenery, atmosphere, and various external performances are unique, this is just a nightmare.

I sheathed the long knife back and sprinted down the route it came from. I was already on the altar, overlooking the surrounding environment. After confirming the destination, there is no longer any need to hesitate whether the route is correct. The chain decision also saves me from worrying about most weird ambushes. The fog spread all around, and the stance of the weird people when they died. In addition, the reaction of the magic pattern allows me to borrow the experience of dealing with the "devil" in the past. This is all familiar. Old Hawk didn't make a point right. Even in this nightmare, I'm not really a "newbie", but a skilled "old hunter". Even if there are other mysterious experts here, I can say without hesitation that I am the more experienced one.

I was on the mountain road, and my ability to skim was curbed, but it was faster and more sensitive than normal running. How fast is it? I have never seriously calculated it. In the ideological world, in such a mysterious world, it is not so useless to use more specific values, but it is not as important and absolute as the meaning of the data itself. I have n’t seen it in the past, too tangled data, mysterious experts who pretend to be rational, and suffer from sudden changes.

Either ideology or "mystery", all have activities beyond cognition, their changes are too rich, and in such an environment, more reliable, most of them are their own intuition.

Feel the enemy with intuition, feel yourself, and experience the complex changes that are combined in every detail in combat and non-combat environments, and get a fuzzy outline from it, a rough result. Even if this outline and result are not completely correct or absolute standards, they also have better fault tolerance, enough to make people make mistakes without even the chance of revision and re-commitment.

I backhanded, turned around, circled in the forest, and flashed out strange sneak attacks. I didn't see them when I climbed the mountain. At this time, I scrambled to attack me. All these changes, I guess, may be caused by the fact that I entered the altar. But, in turn, I am not sure that if I do not enter the altar, they will not appear.

If there were no such weirdness, Old Hawk would have no reason and opponent to fight. And this area is just a mysterious mountain with charming scenery.

The gloomy sky, the cumulus clouds flow violently in the gusty winds from time to time, the rain is getting bigger, and it falls in the leaves and rustles, this is the main melody, and I kill the weird people's cutting sound, collision sound , And the subsequent roar, just like the same accompaniment. I stepped back, with the help of the branches of the tree, to stop a strange spit out of no name. It was like nausea and vomiting. Even if these vomits did not spew out, they ran onto his body from time to time. . Its appearance and movement make it uncomfortable as soon as you see it, and there is a sympathetic pain.

Even ordinary people, when they see severe nausea, they will also have a subconscious reaction to nausea. However, in such a weird body, this sympathy is more intense and crazy. For ordinary people, the brain will be blank and the body will collapse in a flash. Not to mention fighting. This is a situation where you will be negatively affected by sight. In fact, it is not uncommon in all nightmares formed by "mystery".

I think that conscious walkers are the easiest to experience this kind of thing. They can walk freely in the ideology of others, and naturally it is inevitable. Invaded by malicious consciousness of others.

However, this kind of erosion can almost be ignored for me.

I did not hesitate at all and used the hook rope as a whip. Roll it up and smash it towards another weird one that rushed towards this side. The two collided without incident and fell to the ground, being resolved by my crossbow. The corpses continued to disintegrate into ashes, and the magic lines had no time to absorb, and most of them were scattered in the air. It turned into fog, and these fogs will regenerate these weirdness after a while.

I also thought about absorbing the fog directly with the magic pattern. However, it is clear that these fogs cannot be so cleanly absorbed. As in the past, it does not actually have a specific source. By absorbing the power of these things, the magic pattern constantly replenishes my physical strength, heals my injuries, and strengthens my physique and combat ability. As in the past, it is like a manufacturing machine for a panacea. As long as there is a specific material "fog", or something similar. It will keep my fighting resources from being scarce.

This is dangerous, but it is also very suitable for the battlefield of the Mageweaver.

The only thing annoying is the meaningless fighting. I have been running all the time, and although I have n’t specifically avoided it, I do n’t have to find strange things to kill, only when they try to block the road. Will become the target of beheading, and I will soon. Just got rid of such a battlefield. When we stepped on the fork where the cemetery was located, the strangeness was near. I have been swept away. It will take a lot of time for them to conceive again and go to the residential area from this road.

I wiped the rain from my face and threw it on the stone beside me. At this time, the water line falling from the sky can no longer be called rain silk. The accumulated water in the low-lying areas is constantly rippling, but the vegetation has not become more alive because of rain. Everything is still lifeless, gloomy and full of malice.

On the side of the sky, I do not know whether it is the moon or the sun. A pale star is slowly falling towards the horizon. At this time, it seems to be preparing to enter the evening, and I also feel that it is impossible to see the beautiful scenery like "fire burning cloud".

The deepest night I have learned is not tonight, but a change that continues from the "past" of this nightmare. From this "history", it is very long, but, from From my perspective, it is possible that it will reach an end on the first night I have experienced.

In a nightmare, the so-called history, past and future do not actually have too real meaning, but more of a concept and meaning. When you approach it and understand it, you are actually "falling into a nightmare".

I returned to the residential area. The buildings were separated by cross-shaped roads, but the area was not large. There were only about twenty buildings, most of them were lit, and a few of them seemed completely degraded. The dark and dark interior seemed to be There is some kind of malicious and unknown. At the center of the crossroads is a small square with an artificial fountain. The color of the floor tiles is mottled and dull, but the pattern formed also has a ceremonial taste. There was a street lamp that jumped out of the blue arc in the rain, making a noisy noise. It seemed to burn out at any time, but it was always on. I think it is symbolic, so it will go out only under special circumstances.

I traveled all the way, unlike when I left. This time, I carefully observed the exterior and interior of each building and listened to the sound floating in the air. The whispering words seemed to be a prayer of chanting, crazy laughter and hoarse hoarse song, everything seemed so crazy and depressed. People have to think that those who make these voices are mentally problematic-of course, I am not surprised by the assumption that the Peninsula Mental Hospital is ahead.

As far as I am concerned, there is familiarity in strangeness and calmness in madness. In the reality of the hospital, I have long been accustomed to this atmosphere. Although, in reality, patients living in this open environment are not as manic as here, and are often patients with inactivity. However, patients who are more crazy than the conditions shown by these calls are not unheard of. Just in the reality of the hospital, those patients with deteriorated doomsday syndrome are definitely not more weird, crazy and people feel than here. Danger.

The only question I have is, where is it relative to the Peninsula Mental Hospital? Obviously, it is definitely not a wooden house area. The geographical environment in this area does not have much familiarity when looking down from the altar.

In such an environment, even me, I subconsciously take light steps, keep silent, and try not to use too much voice even when I speak-not dangerous and weird, prompting me to do this, but a kind of atmosphere in such an atmosphere Medium and subconscious preventive psychology. I know very well that if I make too much movement, it is possible to cause some changes-after all, here is an ideological nightmare, and the residents here are also a group of mentally unstable patients, any excess Movements are likely to stimulate them.

I raised my head and chose a figure that didn't make much noise, but the light and the windows swayed, suggesting that someone was inside.

I knocked on the door of the room, and there was a sudden silence, as if the people inside held their breath.

I knocked again, and according to psychology, I used a relatively soothing rhythm enough to express goodwill and reason. I have always believed that the rhythm of sound can make people understand the meaning subconsciously.

"Who?" After knocking on the door three times, someone inside finally asked.

"I am the hunter who took over the old Hawke." This is my thoughtful line.

Both the humanoid "family" and Old Hawk's performance make me think that Old Hawk has different general meanings for these patients. Whether they hate him, fear him, or thank him, it means that he is a fixed person. Status, a person with a clear stand in a closed small environment. I imply that these people, I have inherited these, can let me "outsiders", more easily integrated into the environment here, get more information or help from these people.

I don't think that what Old Hawk has done will make him completely invisible here. Perhaps, he may have hurt some people, but it will definitely not be all people. After all, doing things from a good starting point, but eventually hated by everyone, this situation is actually quite rare.

"Old Hawke? Ah, that man." The voice inside, like a gentle young woman, she didn't seem to understand Old Hawk and didn't care too much, but she still asked him about the situation. It feels like she spoke out of politeness and boredom: "I know him and I am very interested in what he does. I thought he would become an interesting person and tell me some interesting stories, but He has n’t been here recently, is there something going on? "

"He is dead." I said briefly and bluntly.

The woman inside did not have hesitation, hesitation, mistrust, etc., and naturally followed my words: "That is really regrettable. However, he seems to have a heir he likes ... Young man, you will become an interesting person, Tell me interesting stories? I ’m interested in what you ’re doing. "

"No, I'm just here to inform." I replied that way.

The woman in there is still not a little emotional ups and downs ~ lightnovelpub.net ~ There is no disappointment or hope in her tone. She answered so plainly and politely: "May God bless you."

I really do n’t know what kind of woman lives inside. Her voice and answers make me feel no sense of rationality or sensitivity. Compared with the human form in the chapel, I feel that the woman in the room is more Like a puppet.

I did not push the door recklessly, and I was not in a hurry to confirm what was inside. Instead, the dark room next to it suddenly turned on, and a man lowered his voice, but asked clearly enough: "Hey, you ... the heir of the old Hawke." I turned my head, as if he could Seeing me inside, I continued to say: "Is it true? Is Old Hawke really dead?"

"Yes." I answered quietly.

"Oh, my God, it's so unfortunate." The man sighed in an exaggerated voice, and said to me quickly: "Tell me, how did he die?"

"He dug a grave for himself and then jumped in." I answered. (To be continued)

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