Under the setting sun, on the cliff, the young man in white turned his head and looked at the person standing next to him: "Brother, can I ask you a question?"

"Huh? You'd better not call me that, I can't bear it... But just ask."

Teenager: "Is everyone's fate destined?"

"..."

"Maybe, maybe not, but I never thought about it."

The young man rubbed the remaining powder in his hands and pondered: "Am I always wrong?"

"Are you still feeling sorry for him?"

Young man: "Yeah, I feel so uncomfortable."

"In the depths of the night, someone will eventually cry."

…

"In the depths of the night, someone will eventually cry..." The young man murmured, and wanted to ask what the deeper meaning was, but suddenly he noticed that the fog around him was gradually rising, as if it was about to engulf the two of them.

"This...is this?" The young man was a little panicked.

"Brother, what's going on? Brother?" However, despite him calling in every possible way, the man beside him was drifting away.

"Brother!" The young man hurriedly chased after him, but no matter how he chased him, the man was always one step ahead of him.

The fog gradually thickened, and he soon lost his direction. He began to run away like a panicked deer, until he felt a sharp pain under his feet and tripped over something.

"Is it a book?" The young man turned around and was about to pick it up, but before he could get closer, bursts of wails and roars came from the book, as if countless demons in hell were roaring and screaming, trying to escape from their imprisonment.

In the darkness, a pair of hands full of sword wounds suddenly grabbed his legs from behind. The young man felt a shiver from his feet to his spine. All his strength seemed to be drained out in an instant, but the hands behind him never seemed to let go of him.

mean!

"What did I do wrong? You have to treat me like this and give them back to me! Give them all back to me!"

The young man turned his head sharply, but there was no one behind him. When the voice suddenly stopped, the hands holding him also disappeared at this moment.

"God, please, please save her!"

There were bursts of sobs in front of him. The young man turned around and saw a man in a cloak kneeling in front of him, repeating the words "Save her..."

The young man approached and wanted to help him up. At this moment, the man also raised his head, and his arms were exposed outside the cloak.

"Ahhhh!!!" The young man fell to the ground, trembling.

The face under the cloak is half covered with runes, like a swarm of ants gnawing at it, and half is iron-skinned with red eyes, flashing with cold light. The left arm is riddled with holes, and countless mechanical parts tore the flesh and blood out. The right arm is covered with ulcerated pustules.

, pus flowed freely down the several rotten flesh eyes that kept blinking on the arm.

"Not worthy! You are not worthy!" "Why do you!" "Leave me!" "We are just your playthings!" "You lunatic!"...

In the darkness, yelling and cursing people from all directions attacked him, as if they wanted to tear him into pieces.

"Ah!!!" The old man woke up from his dream and sat up straight.

There was silence outside the house, it was already late at night.

"It's that dream again..." The old man wiped the sweat from his forehead and reached out to light a kerosene lamp beside him.

The moment the fire ignited, his eyes fell on the bookshelf in the middle of the room. The old and heavy bookshelf was lined with yellow and broken books one after another.

Only one of them exudes a faint blue shimmer, with dots of fluorescent lights surrounding its sides, revealing infinite vitality.
Chapter completed!