In the bathroom, Boluogo turned on the shower head and let the warm water wash over his body. There were a few new clothes on the bed in the bedroom.
Because he often encountered similar incidents, Boluogo stuffed a lot of his clothes in the room of the Undead Club.
Thanks to the convenience of the Key to the Winding Path, Boluogo found a random door in the alley and arrived here. Otherwise, walking onto the street covered in blood would directly cause panic among the masses.
After washing himself, picking up a bath towel, and wiping himself clean carefully, Boluogo put on his clothes and went to the bar on the first floor.
"What the hell, did you go out to kill someone so early in the morning?" Sere glanced at the clothes piled in the corner and screamed, "Dismemberment? Or beheading? Why is there so much bleeding!"
Boluogo was too lazy to talk nonsense to Sere, "I met one, no, two demons."
After the battle, Bologo did not leave immediately, but carefully observed the corpses. From their flesh and blood, Bologo smelled an unmistakable stench.
The reason why Boluo Ge was able to spot them in the crowd was precisely because of the corrupt aura on the demon's body.
Sere said, "Then these two demons are really unlucky to have met you."
"No, they came here on their own initiative, as if they were following me."
Bologg said as he walked to the pile of clothes. There seemed to be something wrapped under the dark coat. Then Bologg took out the thing and threw it in front of Sere.
After a night of drunkenness, Sere was a little confused and his eyesight was not very good. He didn't see the thing clearly at first glance, but he still held it in one hand.
It's heavy, a bit moist and sticky in the hand, and has a fishy smell.
Sere lowered his head, and a human head covered with blood was held in his chest.
"Do you have any hobbies?"
As expected of the Lord of the Night Clan who has experienced great storms, Sere's face was calm but also a bit disgusting. He placed the head on the bar and picked up a tissue to wipe his hands.
"No, I just want to ask you, have you ever seen such weird eyes?"
Boluogo came over, opened his closed eyelids, and exposed the man's pupils.
Serei glanced at it and said, "What? Isn't this quite ordinary?"
"ordinary?"
Boluogo turned the man's head over and saw that the strange dark pupils disappeared. At this moment, the man's pupils were no different from those of a normal person.
Sere asked, "Is there something wrong with his eyes?"
"His eyes..." Boluogo was silent for a moment, "It's dark and slightly shiny, just like a camera."
"Is that so?"
Serei crossed his arms, pondered for a moment, and shook his head, "I really don't have any impression."
"But why do you care so much about this?"
"I've been feeling like someone is watching me lately, and then I met these guys today, and before they died they kept talking about 'seeing,' like... like someone was watching me through their eyes."
When mentioning these, Boluogo couldn't help but clenched his fists. He liked to fight his enemies openly rather than doing sneaky things in the shadows.
"Oh...it's a little disgusting, isn't it?"
Sere spoke in plain language and nodded in agreement, "I understand this very well. I just couldn't stand the endless harassment from those crazy people, so I hid in the Undead Club."
Boluogo felt that he had heard some important information, but Sere had no intention of explaining it and continued to talk about the topic at hand.
"Based on your description, I really can't think of anything. It might be something that appeared after I moved into the Undead Club. Why not ask the Bureau of Order? You are responsible for these things?"
"I was going to ask, but you happened to be still awake, so I asked you by the way."
Boluogo wrapped the head again with his coat. In fact, he felt that there was no need to keep the head. With the death of the man, the evil power in him disappeared, and now it is just a cold corpse.
That's all.
"But it feels really bad to be targeted. We don't even know why the other person is targeting us." Palmer said beside him. This experience made him a little uncomfortable.
This is the disadvantage of living outside the farm, you have to always be on guard against possible crises.
"They seem to be using their behavior to please someone, and this behavior is observing me," Bologo thought of last night's movie. "It sounds a little weird, but it's like they are...filming me."
Boluogo felt that he had grasped the clue. He recalled carefully that he was standing on the roof of the building and watched the two people fighting each other for fun.
If their purpose was to observe themselves, why did they fight each other? Moreover, when they fought against each other, Boluogo could not detect the slightest anger, but instead had a bit of joy, as if they were engaging in some kind of liberation.
Saw……
An arc of thought flashed through, and Boluogo said tentatively, "I suspect that everything they do is to show someone, just like actors on the stage, performing laboriously and trying their best to please people off the stage.
audience."
Serre said, "That sounds pretty weird."
Palmer agreed, "I think it's weird too, just like a real-time broadcast on TV...it's weird no matter how you think about it."
"Photography? This reminds me of what happened hundreds of years ago."
Sere narrowed his eyes and thought hard. Fortunately, he was an immortal. If he were a normal human being, he would have turned into an idiot long ago due to his bad work schedule and the influence of alcohol.
Palmer corrected, "Shooting? Hundreds of years ago? The concept of movies only appeared a few decades ago."
Sometimes it is hard to imagine that these concepts that are deeply embedded in life are just a short moment compared to the macro history of mankind.
"No, I mean it's just a similar concept," Sere said. "Movies and poetry are themselves carriers of stories."
"Go on."
Burlogo raised his hand to signal Palmer to shut up. Even though he was promoted to a believer, Palmer's habit of running on the train has not changed.
"I encountered such a group of lunatics many years ago."
Sere talked about the past. As an undead, he spent a long life and there were too many stories worth telling.
"How should I put it? I think they have extremely serious mental problems. There is no logic in what they do. But if there is any logic, it's just like... having fun?"
When this point was mentioned, Sere himself was stunned for a moment, and he said to himself, "This is somewhat similar to us."
Boluogo raised his forehead slightly. It turns out that these undead people know what kind of character they are?
Boluogo still remembered that not long ago, a very bad speeding incident occurred on the streets of Opos. Some damn guys were racing in the middle of the night, completely ignoring traffic laws.
In fact, they didn't have any accidents. After all, there was a professional racing driver in the car. However, the noise from the engine caused the city hall's complaint hotline to be inundated with calls.
"It's all under Sere's instigation. It has nothing to do with me. I'm just a driver."
When Jeffrey stopped the car at the intersection, Palmer in the driver's seat was talking nonsense, and Serre in the passenger seat excitedly handed Jeffrey a bottle of wine, praising Palmer as a good driver.
Boluogo felt that if there was a chance, he should let Sere ride in the car he drove.
“Those people were like a group of crazy robbers, raiding villages and castles, burning fields, knocking down high walls, and having crazy dinners in front of burning fires.
Sometimes they treat villagers in extremely cruel ways and perform various twisted and crazy freak shows."
When he mentioned this, Sere's expression became distorted. Even the well-informed Lord of the Night Clan would not be able to bear it when encountering this group of lunatics.
"I followed them for a while," Sere explained for himself. "I was quite bored at the time, so I just wanted to see what these people were going to do.
Sometimes they would capture a group of people, give them scripts, and ask them to perform some dramas and the like. Sometimes when they were attacking some castles, they would yell some strange lines and do some completely illogical actions.
Just like...just like..."
"It's like treating the battle as a real-time performance," Bologo said.
"Yes, that's it!"
Sere clapped his hands violently and gave Boluogo a thumbs up.
Palmer said, "It sounds really crazy..."
"The weirdest thing is that they didn't want a lot of gold, but instead robbed libraries. Sometimes they would catch some bards on the road and force them to recite the poems that were sung, and then they would record them.
What is incomprehensible is that they burned, killed and looted, but never harmed the poet.
During the brutal plundering, sometimes they only needed a joke from the villagers and they would be mercifully spared."
"joke?"
Borogo was struck by the difference in the story.
"Yes, it's a joke. If it's a funny enough joke, they're even willing to pay for it."
Sere looked nostalgic and sighed. Even though the Lord of the Night Clan was well-informed, that experience still seemed extremely strange in his long life.
"Wait a minute! Sere, how do you know so clearly!"
Palmer realized that something was wrong. Sere told the story too carefully, as if he was one of the plunderers.
"Ah? Well, I was quite bored at the time, so I hid my identity and worked in a circus. Then I met those crazy people. They thought the circus performances were quite interesting, so they brought us along.
, what I am telling you are all what I saw and heard along the way.”
Sere recalled, "Speaking of which, my performance was particularly popular in the circus at that time."
Borlog asked, "What are you performing?"
"Catch a flintlock bullet with your head."
Boluogo and Palmer were stunned, only to hear Sere say with a smile on his face, "Because I can be resurrected every time, my performance is perfect, they even call me the immortal... even though I am,
Hahaha."
7017k
Please remember the first domain name of this book:. Mobile version reading URL:
