Bologg could not look directly at the light for too long. Even though he was facing Belphegor's account, the endless light still blinded Bologg's eyes. It took him a while to heal himself, and
When he regained his light, it was all over.
The entire battlefield was just as he remembered it, with towering gray-white salt pillars everywhere. The earth was dry and cracked, dyed a strange scarlet color. As for the sacred city, it had disappeared, replaced by horrific scars across the earth.
.
Boluogo didn't show too much shock. He already knew this part of the information during the conversation with Nathaniel.
King Solomon was also the chosen one by the devil. He created some kind of power called the "red dragon" that could end disputes. After talking with Belphegor, the information corresponded one by one.
The devils fear human development, which does not exist in the future but has already been achieved in the past.
Red Dragon.
The devils are afraid of the birth of the next red dragon, and they long for such power to win the dispute.
Belphegor snapped his fingers, and all the light and shadow disappeared. Bologger felt his body sink, and he sat down uncontrollably. The chair caught him firmly, and after the darkness passed, he returned to the cinema again.
What was shown on the screen was the scene after the destruction of the light. The scene seemed to be frozen. Except for the rising smoke, there was no change in the scene.
Borrogo asked, "I was also on this battlefield. Did you describe how I became a debtor?"
"It should be written down."
Belphegor looked troubled and continued, "Then what's the price?"
"what do you want to do?"
"Not ready yet."
"I thought you were going to let me help you win Irwin's soul."
Belphegor laughed after hearing this, "If Irvin gives in like this, he will become worthless."
Boluogo was puzzled, "You devils are so strange. You want to get his soul, but you are afraid that he will succumb so easily."
"The more he fights against fate, the greater his value. I look forward to the moment when Irvin collapses, and I hope that he will persist longer, which is not inconsistent with him."
Belphegor then looked at Bologg, "I also look forward to the day when you collapse. I will definitely offer a good price for your remaining soul."
"Then do you want to promise me?"
Belphegor stretched out his hand, "Want to see you at that time? Haven't you always been curious? Now the answer is right at your fingertips."
Bologger took a deep look at Belphegor and smiled disdainfully, "No, I will find the answer myself."
"I like your stubbornness."
Bologger stood up. He didn't want to tangle with Belphegor anymore. He did get part of the information from the devil's mouth and confirmed the other part. Now his patience has been exhausted and he just wants to leave as soon as possible.
this.
The bet between Asmodeus and Belphegor has not ended yet, and Irwin is still in danger. No matter what the reason is, Boluogo feels that he should help Irwin and disrupt the devil's conspiracy.
The continuous war between the Unbound Poetry Society and the Zongge Orchestra is in line with humanity and the interests of the Bureau of Order. An alliance between the two is what Bologger least wants to see.
"Are you leaving?"
When Belphegor saw Bologger walking towards the door, he shouted, "I'll give you another reminder!"
Bologg's figure paused slightly, and before he could turn around, Belphegor said in a playful tone.
"Bologo, do you think this game is really over?"
The moment Borlog turned around, the lights flickered out, and the darkness gradually became clearer. Borrog returned to the familiar corridor. Belphegor and his weird theater had disappeared, leaving Borrog alone.
Stand still.
A strange and absurd idea arose in Boluogo's heart.
How many points did Irving score?
…
Waves of chill invaded his body, and exhaustion and sleepiness affected his mind. Irwin turned over and wrapped the blanket more tightly, covering his head, as if he was hiding in a body bag.
Bizarre and strange pictures appeared in his mind. He dreamed of the rumbling train, of the bloodthirsty and crazy monster, of the blue sea, and of the woman who took off the veil of hypocrisy in the whale song.
Irwin woke up from his sleep and opened his eyes suddenly. At the same time, the chill in his body became clear and penetrated into his bones.
The hazy will was stunned for a while, and then memories washed through Irwin's mind like a tide. He realized that it was not a dream, but a fact that had happened before.
After thirty-three years of chasing, Irwin returned to that train again, but what waited for him on the train was not the familiar figure in his memory, but the devil of pleasure.
Irwin sat up from the ground and leaned against the bookshelf. He remembered that he made a wish to escape from the game. When he opened his eyes, everything went as he wished. He returned to Daisy Castle and the familiar big library.
The crisis chasing him finally dissipated, and his highly concentrated mind and tense nerves were relaxed at this moment. Irwin's whole body seemed to fall apart and collapsed on the spot.
At this moment, he finally had time to sort out his emotions. Complex and indescribable emotions rose in Irwin's heart. He felt that he might be sad or disappointed... Even after living for so many years, such a
It was also the first time he experienced emotions.
Irwin warned himself that he was already prepared, no matter what the outcome was, but when it all ended, Irwin was still a little unbearable.
This was not a good result, but he had to accept it because it was the fact and could not be argued or rejected.
He tried hard to clear his head and stood up unsteadily. It seemed that the others had returned to their homes. According to Boluogo's character, maybe they were ready and ready to look for him.
Irwin had heard about the Bureau of Order's operating style from Nolen's mouth. They would not easily let go of someone like him who knew the extraordinary world, let alone that he was planning to write all of this into a book.
But Irwin felt that Boluogo and the others would not harm him. They were more like his own editors, proposing endless review standards before allowing his books to be published.
Irwin walked to his workbench and tried to think of some random things to make him forget about Asmodeus, Cinderella, and... and...
"damn it!"
Irvin punched the table and slammed it. No one can maintain a high degree of rationality all the time. At this moment, Irvin couldn't bear it anymore and chose to release his emotions.
The high emotions came and went quickly. It may be that Irwin was too tired and didn't have the energy to be angry and sad.
Irwin noticed a pile of manuscripts next to the workbench. He picked it up and looked at it. It turned out to be the records he had written while describing the games in the Happy Park.
These pages proved the authenticity of Happy Garden. Irwin stared at the pages, then he picked up his first draft and inserted the blank page into the typewriter.
Because of Irwin's solitary life, his emotions rarely have dramatic ups and downs, and when such ups and downs occur, he often chooses to numb himself with work.
His new book had not yet reached perfection, and Irwin could not stop. He poured all his emotions into the keys on his fingertips, and struck fresh ink characters on the blank pages one after another.
Irwin slightly modified the story he experienced according to the worldview in his book. He was very good at doing this, just like lying, if he slightly changed the details, the story would be completely different.
"The story of "Night Hunters" has always been true, and I just wrote it as a documentary.
Under the power of the King of Monsters, I and other hunters were involved in an illusory game. I saw her again in that game, and she was as beautiful as I remembered..."
Irwin typed the keys tirelessly. Unknowingly, his nails gradually cracked due to fatigue and force. Blood flowed along the fingertips and seeped into the typewriter. Soon, the printed ink text also became bloody.
And Irwin didn't notice any of this.
As if he was possessed, all he could see was his own story, until at a certain moment, he heard a familiar smile.
Irwin turned his head sharply. He didn't see anything. Then he noticed something more in his field of vision. The page of the first draft aside was slightly raised, and something was pressed underneath. Irwin opened it.
A familiar twelve-sided die lay quietly on the page.
Time seemed to have stopped. Irwin murmured something incomprehensible, and then grabbed the dice by mistake. Then his palm seemed to be out of control, losing all strength. The dice fell from his fingers after being picked up halfway.
With the sound of jingling, the twelve-sided dice rolled a few times and lay quietly in the shadowed corner.
