Wen Jianyan hurriedly quickened his pace and ran towards where Hugo was lying.

He knelt down and asked in a low voice:

"Hey, are you okay!"

Hugo did not respond.

Under the dim light, his eyelids were closed tightly and his face was pale, as if he had lost his breath.

Seeing this, Wen Jianyan's heart lifted slightly. He held a flashlight in one hand, reached out with the other hand, and groped to find the side of the other person's neck.

Under the cold skin, you can still feel a slight beating.

Wen Jianyan breathed a sigh of relief. Yes, it looks like he's not dead yet.

He took back his hand and began to examine the injuries on Hugo's body

The arrangements for the five-point solution were completely soaked in blood, and it looked particularly shocking. From the front wall to the small building, a huge hole was opened by an unknown street. The west side of Yanyang's Lida was coming from the chest.

Man Xiao translated that the blood flowing from the body is like the tomb style of flowers in the Tang Dynasty - a tour of Huainanjing

Wen Jianyan performed simple hemostasis for him as quickly as possible.

After doing all this, he turned to look at the oil painting lying in a pool of blood next to him.

The lower edge of the painting was immersed in a pool of thick blood, and the mahogany frame seemed to have absorbed the blood, gradually becoming more vivid. The painting was only half finished.

On the canvas, Hugo's lifelike face can be clearly seen, almost giving people the illusion that the person in the painting is alive. However, the area below the shoulders is still blank, as if it has not been completed yet.

Blood?

Wen Jianyan was slightly startled, as his mind flashed back to what he had seen when he met a few gentlemen in the painting shop, and the pale white color he had seen on their faces, as if they had suffered from excessive blood loss.

In other words, all the portraits in this corridor are fed by the blood of the portrait owner?

Thinking like this, Wen Jianyan's eyes fell on the oil painting in a pool of blood again.

However, even though the lower part has been completely soaked in Hugo's blood, for some reason, the oil painting still remains in a semi-finished state.

Could it be said that it must flow directly from the body?

With this in mind, Wen Jianyan knelt down and picked up the painting from the ground.

It's obviously a big sheet, but it's not too heavy, and even seems a little light.

He brought the painting to the unconscious Hugo and pressed on the wound on the other person's body that he had just briefly treated without changing his expression.

Even though he was still in a coma, Hugo's body still shook violently, and the brows on his pale face, which had suffered excessive blood loss, could not help but frown tightly, looking particularly painful.

As fresh and hot blood gushed out from his wound, the mahogany frame became more and more vivid. Seeing this, Wen Jianyan couldn't help but hold his breath slightly.

There was a strong, suffocating smell of blood floating in the dark corridor.

Under Wen Jianyan's gaze, the originally half-completed picture was slowly being completed automatically. In the portrait, Hugo's shoulders and below were completed little by little with invisible brushstrokes.

Wen Jianyan breathed a sigh of relief.

It seems that my guess was correct.

This painting must be painted directly with blood flowing directly from the wound. However, at the same time, a new question emerged from my heart again.

Wen Jianyan frowned slightly.

If we say

If the place where he fell now was just an image left in the past, then the current situation that Hugo himself could not solve should not exist.

Wen Jianyan held the picture frame with one hand and turned his head to glance around.

There was dead silence in the corridor, and there was no other person except himself and the unconscious Hugo at his feet.

Wen Jianyan lowered his head and kicked Hugo's arm carefully:

"Hey!,Hey! Wake up!"

Perhaps due to excessive blood loss, Hugo still remained unconscious and did not wake up.

However, under the current situation, Wen Jianyan had to start to doubt

Is what he is entering now really just an image from the past? In fact, he had already had similar questions in the mask shop.

You must know that the real coins in his hand were obtained from real copies, but they were successfully spent in the image, and after he tentatively paid, he found that the number of real coins in his hand had indeed decreased.

This thing itself is a bit strange. Therefore, after leaving the mask store, Wen Jianyan gave Hugo "advice". In addition to treating it as reward, it was also mixed with a little tentative meaning.

Try to explore the nature of the area you are currently in.

And now, every clue, not even a single detail, seems to be pointing in the same direction -

This is more than just an "image of the past".

As time went by, the smell of blood gradually increased. Then, strange phenomena began to occur.

On both sides of the dark corridor, the motionless portraits began to become restless. The pale faces moved slowly, and pairs of gloomy eyes looked in this direction. I don’t know if it was an illusion.

Wen Jianyan pulled away from his contemplation and stared at his surroundings with vigilance.

I don't know if it was an illusion, but he always felt that there was some kind of cold, greedy malice in these eyes, like hunger.

Under the gaze of countless eyes, he couldn't help but feel terrified.

Soon, it wasn't just the sight that was disturbing.

Under the illumination of weak light, the people in some oil paintings are becoming blurred little by little, as if they have disappeared from the oil paintings, or maybe they are

Walked out.

One after another.

Those pale faces full of malice disappeared from the oil paintings. In the mahogany frames of different shades, the canvas that originally showed a complete human form gradually turned into a cold mirror. However, no image could be reflected on the mirror.

On the contrary, there is only a bottomless darkness, like empty black holes, leading to an unknown world.

"Da, da, da."

The sound of footsteps came from all directions.

Wen Jianyan's hair suddenly stood on end, and he had the urge to run away.

He finally understood why Hugo was so seriously injured in this corridor, and why Gentleman and Anis were so cautious. Even if they were two members of the top eleven acting together, they still acted cautiously and did not dare to do anything.

If you do anything out of the ordinary, you may even be cheated by them twice because of too many worries.

He gritted his teeth, lowered his head, and looked at the oil painting in his hand.

The painting has entered the final stage.

The mahogany frame is bright and thick, as if blood could flow from it.

In the portrait, Hugo's face is lifelike, with a skin-like texture. Even his eyes seem to have energy, and he stares out of the painting without saying a word. Below, the folded palms,

It is emerging from the picture little by little. This is the last blank space in the picture.

Soon, soon.

Wen Jianyan's heartbeat gradually increased, as if it was about to jump out of his throat.

However, as the painting was slowly being completed, the footsteps around him became denser and more rapid. It seemed that countless unknown and terrifying beings were surrounding the concave surface from all directions, approaching this direction faster and faster!

Wen Jianyan's forehead was dripping with cold sweat, and he subconsciously tightened his fingers.

The painting is finished!

He suddenly picked up the painting and turned around as quickly as possible.

However, he was still too slow.

The footsteps were approaching, as if they were heard a few steps away. A chill shot up from behind. Wen Jianyan immediately realized that it was too late.

The ghost is behind you.

Without warning, the footsteps stopped.

There was dead silence in my ears, as if nothing just happened.

The entire corridor returned to silence, and Wen Jianyan could only hear his own rapid breathing and wheezing. He carefully opened his eyelids.

It was pitch black around me and I couldn't see anything.

The flashlight lay beside my feet, emitting a faint light, but it had almost no effect.

However, whether it was the footsteps or the heavy shadows, they all disappeared at that moment without a trace.

Is it safe?

still?

Now is not the time to think about this.

Wen Jianyan didn't have time to think too much, and rushed towards the wall beside him, and then pressed the painting in his hand against the wall -

Although there are no hooks on the wall extension, the moment the back side of the oil painting was attached to the wall, it was hung firmly on it. It seemed to be integrated with the wall, attracted by some invisible force.

He grabbed it with all his strength and forcibly peeled it away from Wen Jianyan's hand.
To be continued...