The voice of the person chasing behind him was very familiar, as if someone was scratching him through a layer of gauze to reminisce. The feeling that was coming out made Yan Zheng feel itchy like a cat, and there was an urge in his heart to let him poke his head in and take a look.

See, just seeing the owner of the voice reminds you of more things.

Hearing the sound of footsteps walking into the corridor where he was hiding temporarily, the clack of the soles of his shoes on the ground made Yan Zheng's heart beat fast, and he was so nervous that it felt like it would jump out of his chest.

The more critical the moment, the more I can't help but want to poke my head in.

Just like the bloody movie scenes we have seen, the supporting characters who escape will always die in the probe killing.

Curiosity was like a demon devouring Yan Zheng's reason. Once a person's curiosity rises, even if he knows that he will face unpredictable consequences, he will take risks to solve the curiosity in his heart.

In the end, Yan Zheng couldn't escape human instinct and quietly poked out an eye against the wall. According to common sense, the person who was frightened in this situation should be the person being spied on.

But the reality was exactly the opposite. It was Yan Zheng, the snoop, who was greatly frightened.

I don't know when the person who was chasing him stopped and stood five or six meters away from Yan Zheng. He hunched over and stared at the corner where Yan Zheng was hiding, as if he was hiding in a hide-and-seek mode, afraid of being discovered by the other party.

The seeker.

When you want to spy on others, but you find that others are spying on you, the fear is no less than that of suddenly discovering the class teacher outside the window.

Yan Zheng and the pursuer met each other's eyes, and the pursuer showed a successful smile on his face, as if saying to Yan Zheng, look, I caught you.

The other party's face was waxy yellow, with a waxy luster under the white light of the corridor. The other party didn't look like a person at all, but more like a resurrected wax figure.

Even the smile was very stiff and fake, and the owner of this wax face was none other than Yan Zheng’s college classmate!

While being greatly frightened, Yan Zheng's curious mind suddenly realized that no wonder the voice was so familiar. It turned out that the people he was chasing were all classmates!

Wang Xinlong, the name of the wax figure appeared in Yan Zheng's mind.

There were also some memories about Wang Xinlong. I didn’t have time to recall them carefully, but the wax-man-like Wang Xinlong on the opposite side was slowly approaching, his movements stiff and firm.

Yan Zheng raised his pistol with trembling hands, wanting to use it to intimidate the other party. After all, Yan Zheng was always an ordinary person. No matter how good his mental quality was, he seemed at a loss when faced with such a scene.

When it came time for him to shoot someone with a gun, Yan Zheng flinched without the same ferocity he had when facing the beggar.

"Don't come here, I'm shooting!"

When Wang Xinlong heard Yan Zheng's words, his smile became even weirder. His mouth formed a straight line and the corners rose up into a crescent-shaped smile.

That smile was just like the smile we often send, with a hint of ridicule that looked unworthy of a beating, as if it was provoking Yan Zheng, shoot if you can.

His footsteps did not stop because Yan Zheng raised a gun to threaten him, but he still walked towards Yan Zheng unhurriedly until he was two or three meters away.

Yan Zheng was under tremendous psychological pressure at such a short distance. His hands holding the gun kept shaking due to excessive nervousness. Then the gun went off, and a loud gunshot was heard in the silent corridor.

Wang Xinlong's head spurted out light red wax liquid and fell to the ground. Yan Zheng was stunned!

Even if you misfire, you can get a headshot! Could this be the essence of spear-shaking skills? Random shooting skills all depend on luck!

A liquid similar to brain plasma mixed with blood quickly solidified on the ground, and Wang Xinlong, whose head was shot, was slowly getting up from the ground.

The other people who heard the gunfire were like sharks smelling the smell of blood, running frantically towards the corridor where Yan Zheng was.

Yan Zheng heard the sound of footsteps like thousands of troops surrounding him.

"What kind of monster is this! Even if you hit it on the head, it won't die!"

Yan Zheng cursed and turned around and ran upstairs. Having exposed his target, Yan Zheng became a rat in a hurry. No matter which corridor or floor he ran to, he would always meet familiar college classmates.

Their waxen-like stiff faces all bore an indelible hatred of blood, and when they saw Yan Zheng, they felt a desire to eat his flesh and drink his blood.

While Yan Zheng was hiding in embarrassment, he couldn't help but think, did I steal your wife or kill your father? Why do you hate me so much?

13!

Yan Zheng thought silently in his heart, this was the thirteenth shot he fired while escaping, and there were still two last bullets. After firing two bullets, the weapon that could defend his dignity would become a piece of scrap metal. Although the gunshot could not be used against

Those wax monsters caused substantial damage, but they gave Yan Zheng great comfort.

What was left in the gun was not only the last two bullets, but also his last glimmer of hope as he was exhausted from running for his life.

One bullet is for critical moments, and one bullet is just in case. Yan Zheng likes to make decisions before taking action. He hates the feeling of fighting against the odds and always leaves plenty of room for maneuver for what is about to happen.

Two bullets were Yan Zheng's bottom line. Yan Zheng held the gun in his hand and did not dare to use the gun to stop the enemy. He could only rely on his super physical fitness to throw away the enemies behind him.

As the gunshots continued to sound, Yan Zheng's position was constantly exposed. The surrounding wax figures blocked almost all of Yan Zheng's escape routes. Every time Yan Zheng's escape routes were blocked, Yan Zheng moved up a level.

In order to avoid installing elevators, most teaching buildings have five or five and a half floors. Yan Zheng was forced to run up to the fifth floor with no way out.

On the last floor, if this floor was blocked by a wax figure, Yan Zheng would have no way to retreat. Yan Zheng didn't even dare to think about the outcome that would meet him.

But when Yan Zheng stepped onto the fifth floor, Yan Zheng was once again shocked by the sight in front of him and was at a loss what to do.

The layout of the fifth floor is completely different from the other four floors. There is only an empty hall on the fifth floor, which is full of square cement columns.

Surrounded by a closed office, Yan Zheng looked back in panic and glanced at the pursuers who had not yet run up the stairs. He quickly ran to an office door relatively far away, opened the door, went in and locked the door.

He leaned on his back and gasped for air. When Yan Zheng saw the layout of the room clearly, he was even more shocked than when he saw the layout of the fifth floor.

The room inside looks like Yan Zheng's room in junior high school. The room is about ten square meters and the layout is very simple.

A writing desk, an old-fashioned steel wire bed, an environment that can be seen through at a glance, there is no place to hide.

Listening to the approaching footsteps, Yan Zheng panicked and was at a loss. Finally, he gritted his teeth and got under the bed. Under the bed, which was full of dust and fibers, there were two dusty instant noodle boxes. When he opened them, they contained Yan Zheng's childhood toys.

Familiar toys opened the door to Yan Zheng's memory. The memories of Yan Zheng's childhood flooded into his brain. The immature memories of his childhood were of no help to Yan Zheng now, but with the recovery of his memory, Yan Zheng's thinking became more and more clear.

The more agile.

This environment is too real, just like a dream.

This inner exclamation made Yan Zheng freeze on the spot as if he had received an electric shock.

Dream! This is a dream, not an environment!

Dreams are a reflection of a person's deep heart. Dreams are unconscious and completely controlled by the subconscious mind of the brain. What you dream about does not depend on the person's subjective consciousness, but on your subconscious mind.

Dreams and reality are also inextricably linked, so I can't feel the temperature. No matter how the scene changes, I always feel cold.
Chapter completed!