"Then what happened next?" Lyle looked at Mr. Paranoia's mechanical body, the texture, the cubic box, and the mechanical brain filled with dense currents, all of which told him that it was true.

Willim Huairang is a time traveler from the future.

"..."

"Later, Mr. Delusion has not thought about the plot yet." Mr. reporter chuckled.

"Every time I think about it, I will put myself into the protagonist of his novel, but I have to admit that this time, it is his best acting performance."

The iron box on Mr. Delusion's head was closed, and he turned back into the silent man immersed in books and writing.

"novel?"

"Yes, the first novel he wrote was a science fiction novel. It is precisely because he claimed to be the protagonist of the novel every time that we laughed and called him Mr. Delusion."

"But, his body..."

"Those are mechanical props. You can buy them from the Mechanical Cult in Wandering City. Although they are quite expensive, they are just disguises."

"..." Is that really the case?

Willim Huairang did not refute his companion's explanation, and was always working like a machine. Just like the pair of deep eyes just now, that profound story was just Lyle's imagination.

"I'm leaving, gentlemen, it's almost daybreak."

After saying goodbye to the three of them, Lyle walked back outside the house, walking on the path of mushroom steps and passing through the layers of bubbles.

Before that, he and the grapes in his pocket had a good time rubbing on the bubbles.

Make sure nothing goes wrong, lest it bring disaster to Cassandale.

There was no change in the cup of luxury. Just like when he and the gentleman left, the cup of tea was still placed on the cloth mat, and the grape lay on his shoulder, clutching the cloth tightly.

Lyle pressed the ring.

One person and one bat successfully appeared in Lyle's cabin.

Grape hovered over his new home excitedly, and Lyle quickly took off his disguise and brushed his sweat-covered hair on his head.

Tonight feels like a century has passed.

During the awakening ceremony and making friends, Lyle kicked off his leather boots and took off his underwear, not caring about Putao's gaze.

"Sir, your skin is very beautiful."

Not sure if Grape is complimenting her appearance.

He vaguely remembered that he had given a reply, and Lyle was knocked down on the bed by surprise.

………

It was noon the next day when I woke up.

My sleep this time was particularly bad, as if the exhaustion from a marathon was still compressed in every cell.

"Grape?"

"I'm here, sir." The little light bat leaned out from the top of the closet. She found a small place for herself last night as a strategic base in the future.

Grape showed her sojourn nature, and Lyle originally thought that she would run away and fly away all night.

"How do you feel, Grape?"

"It's very nice, sir. It's a nice place to live. It's protected from wind and rain."

Lyle smiled awkwardly. The deal with Grape was as if he was bullying an honest person. He should compensate her in terms of food.

"gentlemen?"

"What's wrong?"

"Although I'm not sure, is your skin broken?"

"broken?"

"Your face has changed a lot since last night."

My face, Lyle reached out his hand in confusion and touched it. His skin was not good. After staying up late for a long time and suffering from malnutrition, his skin must be as uneven as grains of wheat that have been ground by stone mills.

But the truth was worse than he imagined. His skin was uneven and felt like a mask, and the leather of the beak mask was even rougher.

This is definitely not my face, something must have happened.

Lyle eagerly took a basin of water and placed it under the sun. He knelt down next to it and saw his face that was beyond recognition.

It was as if the herpes virus held an annual carnival on his face, with misshapen bumps squeezing on his face and disfiguring himself, like a half-fried potato.

He couldn't imagine what was happening. He stroked his face, which was like a volcanic rock formation. He felt no pain. Lyle judged that these were barnacle-like parasitic lumps. The nerves in them had died, and keratin had formed a layer of keratin on his face.

A layer of outer shell, like...an eggshell.

A habit: when you see a closed treasure chest, you want to open it; when you see the key in the keyhole, you want to twist it; when you see the watch case, you want to break it.

Lyle grabbed a bump on the right side of his face near the cheekbone and crushed it hard.

Just like peeling off an eggshell, the bloody pieces fell into the basin. As the bright red began to ripple, Lyle saw a strange scene.

Behind the broken pieces, in the cup-sized gap, what was inside was not his own skin, nor bleeding flesh, but a bright red fluid, perhaps blood.

But would the human head be completely hollow and filled with blood? Incomprehensible panic crushed his calmness, and Lyle screamed.

The liquid inside also begins to flow out due to gravity.

Cack, cluck, cluck.

Just when it was about to flow out, under his own gaze, the edges of the gap quickly filled in, a new eggshell appeared instantly, and Lyle's face became complete again.

Lyle sat down on the ground, and he understood what the gentleman mentioned, "You will need time to repair the sequelae caused by the awakening of your talent."

Maybe this is only a small part of it. Fear can make people lose control, but fear that transcends fear can make people stay awake. Maintaining the status quo now is the choice that Lyle wants and must make the most.

Accept the fact that your head has turned into a big raw egg.

Fortunately, I can still move freely, my eyes can see, my nose can breathe, and my mouth can open and close.

At this moment, I was definitely feeling weird in some way.

Lyle put on the disguise of a plague doctor and began to read Mr. Djinn's guide to the dead souls. He recited the incantation of corpse resurrection over and over again. Emo's words can calm his own spirit, which is much more effective than any psychological suggestion.
Chapter completed!