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553 Whose Right Hand

 Angel looked around blankly and found that he had appeared in darkness at some point.

In my ear, someone whispered softly.

What were they talking about? Angel frowned. He couldn't hear clearly, but he felt that there were many people whispering in his ears, and there might even be animals roaring.

For some reason, he felt that this scene was extremely familiar, as if he had experienced it not long ago?

But when did he experience it? Angel couldn't remember.

In other words, his mind is in chaos right now, and he basically doesn't have much room to think and remember.

He stood up, listening to the rustling sound in his ears, and didn't know what he should do now. But when he turned around inadvertently and saw a light spot in the distance, he was stunned, and then subconsciously

In the darkness, search for the only glimmer of light.

The light spot was far away from him, but it never changed, like a beacon in the darkness, pointing the way for him.

The whispers continued, making Angel feel a little irritated. Especially when he got closer to the light spot, the whispers became louder and louder. Different languages, different races, different frequencies, all shouted the same and short.

sound.

After walking for an unknown amount of time, Angel finally came to the light spot.

This is a door.

But in Angel's current chaotic thinking, he felt that this "door" was probably a mirror? This strange thinking was because he saw a figure facing him inside the door.

Angel stood facing the person inside the door. It made him feel as if he was looking into a mirror.

Even though he couldn't see clearly the appearance of the person inside the door, his clothes were gorgeous and unfamiliar, and his hair was long, not similar to him at all; but he still felt that the person inside the door was probably... himself?

This idea that defies logic seems to be a truth in his current thoughts that are mixed together like a ball of wool.

"Are you me?" Angel murmured softly.

There was no answer from the other party.

Angel raised his right hand in confusion and slowly stretched it over, wanting to touch the other person's face.

The right hand goes through the "door".

The person inside the "door" also raised his hand, like Angel, stretched out his hand. The two hands met at this moment.

"It's so cold." Angel touched the other person's hand, and the only thing he felt was coldness.

It's like falling into an ice cellar.

This cold touch felt very familiar to Angel. It seemed that he had touched it somewhere not long ago.

"What are you touching?" A low voice came into Angel's ears.

Angel thought the voice was from the person inside the door. He was about to answer, but found that in an instant, all the whispers in his ears disappeared, the darkness slowly faded away, and the light began to expand, even in front of him

The "door" was also broken into several pieces.

Then, Angel opened his eyes.

He saw a person who looked very familiar to him, dressed in black gentleman's uniform... Sanders.

Before Angel could react, he was obviously looking in the "mirror", so why did he suddenly turn into Sanders?

At this time, he saw a hint of amusement in Sanders's eyes.

Joking? Why joking? Angel followed Sanders's gaze and looked down. He saw his right wrist being pinched by Sanders, and his hand was unconsciously grabbing the air.

Angel suddenly woke up. Looking around, he found that he was in a strange room, and there was a wooden bed under him.

So he was asleep just now?

Then his wrist was grabbed by Sanders. Could it be that he was touching something in his dream? Angel thought of his dream. He did feel some cold touches. Could it be that he touched Sanders?

Have you gone?

When Angel thought about this possibility, he felt chills running down his spine. The opponent was Sanders, the God of Killing in the South who was serious about his words. If he was so presumptuous, would Sanders chop off his hand? I am his after all.

Apprentice, you shouldn’t be able to...right?

Angel retracted his hand with an embarrassed look, then lowered his head and quickly admitted his mistake: "Teacher, I was wrong. I was dreaming just now, and I didn't mean to imitate you..."

Sanders was stunned for a moment, then laughed and cursed: "What nonsense are you thinking about? I'm asking you, what are you touching?"

"Aren't I touching you?" Seeing Sanders's disgusted face, Angel knew that he had guessed wrong before and quickly changed his words: "I'm touching the air... right?"

Sanders shook his head, and his expression changed from relaxed to serious: "No, you are thinking about it."

"I didn't touch anything... No, I seemed to have caught someone's hand in my dream." Angel recalled his previous dream.

While in the dream, his thinking was chaotic, but he still remembered the general content.

"Whose hand?" Sanders looked serious, staring directly at Angel's right hand.

Angel followed the direction of his eyes and focused on his right hand.

His eyes froze for a moment.

Is this his hand? Starting from the wrist that Sanders pinched before, the entire palm has almost completely changed.

Compared with his left hand, the phalanges of his right hand seemed to be longer. He took out his left hand and pressed it tightly against his right hand.

Each finger on his right hand is one knuckle longer than that on his left hand.

And the most bizarre thing was that when he moved his right hand, strange lines, shining with green light, circled around his right hand.

Angel frowned tightly, is this hand mine?

Angel tried to squeeze his palm, and he could control his right hand freely. He also tried to control the green lines floating near his right hand, but those green lines were completely out of control.

The control feeling simply by hand was the same as before, but Angel was too unfamiliar with this hand.

His right hand had been with him for nearly sixteen years, and Angel would not admit his mistake. It was obvious that this hand was not his, but why could he control it so freely?

"Put down your research first. There will be plenty of time to do it later. Answer me, whose hand did you catch?" Sanders interrupted Angel's thoughts and asked again.

Angel shook his head: "I don't know, I can't see clearly... He is in the mirror, no, inside the door. I don't know who he is, and I can't even see clearly whether he is a man or a woman."

"Does it have long blond hair?" Sanders asked.

Angel shook his head and nodded again: "It's long hair, but I can't tell what color it is. The clothes he's wearing seem to be very gorgeous, but the color is still unclear." After a pause, Angel looked at it with confusion.

Asked Sanders: "Mentor, how do you know? Did you also see him?"

Sanders did not answer him immediately, but asked about Angel's entire dream.

After Angel finished describing the scene in his dream, Sanders asked about his experience after entering Witch Town.

Angel still didn't hide anything, and told all about the strange wooden house and the old witch he encountered. After listening to this, Sanders was silent for a moment: "You said that you met that person in your dream. At that time, you were in chaos.

In your mind, do you think it’s you?”

Angel nodded.

Sanders was silent for a moment and rubbed his temples: "When I found the wooden house you mentioned, I saw two people. One was you, and the other was obscured by the fog, but I saw that he looked like you.

Long hair of similar hair color.”

"When I got closer, he just turned into mist and disappeared."

Angel: "So, the instructor didn't see that person's face?"

Sanders nodded: "Although I didn't see what the man looked like, I saw his hand holding your right hand. To be precise, it was fused with your right hand."

"His hand, my hand, fused?" Angel looked at the unfamiliar right hand and felt that everything was absurd.

This hand does not belong to him, but to another long-haired man?

It should be the person inside the door that he dreamed about.

But why did he do this? Where did his own hands go?

He squeezed his right hand hard, and he could feel that there was a powerful force in it, but no matter how powerful it was, it was still unfamiliar.

Suddenly, Angel's eyes froze.

He found that there were signs of blood flowing in his hands when he pinched them, but...he was obviously a soul now, how could there be blood flowing?

"You finally discovered it?" Sanders raised his eyebrows: "Your right palm has turned into a physical entity."

"Has your right hand become real?" Angel looked surprised and quickly raised his left hand.

However, his left hand is still in the form of a soul, or in other words, only his right hand is solid in his body.

Then, Angel thought of something that was terrifying to think about.

The right hand in the nightmare world has become an entity, but what about the right hand in reality? Is it his or the long-haired man's?

What's more, if he leaves his body in reality, whose right hand in his soul should belong to him?

The more Angel thought about it, the more he felt like he was breaking out in a cold sweat.

Sanders said at this time: "I just said that the man's hand was fused with your right hand, there may be something wrong."

"What's wrong?"

"It seems like he is merging with your hand, but he also seems to be pulling your right hand from the wizarding world to the nightmare world." Sanders paused: "Maybe it's both, but that needs to wait.

We can only confirm this after we return to the wizarding world."

"Before that, don't use your right hand." Sanders glanced at the green lines surrounding Angel's right hand, and there was a hint of fear in his eyes. Although the green lines seemed to have no energy,

Every time I look at it, I feel a vague sense of terror.

Angel nodded and leaned against the bed with some dejection.

If it is true as Sanders said, he really suffered a big loss this time when he came to the nightmare world and lost his hand.

Seeing this, Sanders thought for a moment and said, "I have a guess, maybe your hand is not lost, and there is a high probability that it is also your hand."

Angel looked over.

Sanders: "You didn't say that you thought the person you met in the dream was you. Although you were in chaotic thinking at the time, maybe because of this, your guess was not wrong."

"He may be you, but he is you who was projected by the nightmare world."


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