In fact, that feeling was not unique to Fanning. Everyone in the audience, including Vasius, also felt the invisible feeling of being scanned.
"The number plates are on the table, and you can assign them by yourself. Don't lose them when visiting the exhibition, and don't pick up the wrong ones."
Mr. F reminded him again in official Hoffmann language.
"Please, Mr. Fanning." Vasius on the side did not reach out to take it.
...Is this investigator really going to push himself ahead? Fan Ning was thinking about Vasius' intentions quickly, while looking down at the table.
When he saw the numbers 1-12 on the hard cards that looked like a pair of playing cards sliding open, his mind seemed to connect them with some of his previous guesses.
So he took two steps forward and picked up the card at random.
"It has to be like this, so I'm free to do it." Fan Ning smiled easily, "There's no choice. Let's take it first, and then let the people behind take it. Since you want me to go first, then--"
He directly followed the order, put the card numbered 1 in his pocket, and handed 2 to Vasius.
Vasius stretched out two fingers to pinch it, then stopped his hand in mid-air, studying Fan Ning's movements.
Then Fan Ning continued to follow the order, without picking anyone, without interrupting, and without pausing or hesitating, he directly sent numbers 3-12 to the people behind him in one go.
After seeing Fan Ning do all this, Vasius finally put the card in his pocket.
"Mr. Vasius, are you sure you want me to take charge of the investigation of this mysterious incident?" Fan Ning finally said calmly, "I am willing to contribute my own insights to help get out of trouble, but if you ask me to take the lead, to be honest, I'm worried
Take everyone to the ditch."
"I said before, you will soon find that you know more than me." Wasius responded with a calm tone, "For this reason, I only shared some information with you before coming in. This is a sure profit, right?
?”
Fan Ning smelled a potential conflict. For a moment, he tried to estimate his chances of winning if he and Vasius started a fight. However, the uncertainty in his heart and the uncertainty of the objective environment made him forcefully suppress it.
The urge came down.
Without stopping to think in his mind, he walked toward the stairwell deep in the hall, followed by everyone who had received their number plates.
This investigator definitely knows something about himself, and even if it is not "confirmation", he is still "preparing to verify" under suspicion.
What is it? The secret of the Turner Museum? The identity of his father? Fragments of musical notes? Mysterious chords? A mobile phone from time travel? There are so many uncertainties in him that Fanning can’t even tell what the Special Patrol Office has in hand.
What is.
He was listing and thinking in this way. After taking ten or twenty steps, he suddenly thought of something. He stretched out his hand and pressed his chest inadvertently.
There was no familiar feeling of being hit by a hard object in the place where objects were often hung.
Fan Ning was startled and almost broke into a cold sweat, until he suddenly remembered something.
The most recent visit to Yiyong was probably in a dream two days ago. I was in the Qiming Church and the ordinary astral world, and I took the art museum key back and forth and made some attempts. In the end, I forgot it on the organ above the church.
Next to the keyboard, not brought out.
It was strange to forget, but that day he confirmed that the art museum key was also a moving substance. What he called "concrete" before was actually bringing it into a dream, and the precipitation of spiritual fluid seemed to occur together with the return of the spirit body.
...Next time, just bring it back to the world when you wake up. So Fan Ning finally breathed a sigh of relief, just as he was about to take the first step up the stairs——
"Sir, your things are with me."
In the dim hall, Fan Ning and Vasius turned around suddenly and found that Mr. F had stood in front of the 12-person queue, flanking the two of them, and holding six flashlights in his arms.
Just by looking at it, Fan Ning's heart skipped a beat!
It's not because of the flashlight, but because among the piled flashlights, there is an object that is completely black and looks like ebony and decorated with light golden spiral patterns.
His baton "Old Days" unexpectedly passed into his hands without knowing when!
What made Fan Ning's scalp tingle even more was that after looking at each other for the second time, he seemed to have found the source of the familiar feeling after being glanced at before.
Has this person studied the hidden knowledge of the Lord of Witnesses, the Mantra?
This ghost-like gentleman bent down, squatted down, and gently placed six flashlights on the ground, so that he could free his hand to pick up "Old Days."
"Your thing? It seems to be a baton?" He stood up again.
"I'm used to carrying it around with me. I'm a musician." Fan Ning stared at his face and spoke calmly.
"I am also a musician, especially interested in expanding sound effects and harmony systems. Now I am studying the connection between overall art and mysticism." Mr. F said.
"..." If it were a normal occasion, Fan Ning would most likely have a few words with him after hearing this, but now he was so confused that he didn't speak.
"Can't remember?" Mr. F suddenly raised his beard and smiled, "Actually, this group of people today is quite interesting. At least three of you have listened to my music."
The next moment, the opponent's palms wearing white gloves held the top and tail of "Old Day" respectively, and handed it to Fan Ning.
"It is forbidden to carry lights in the art museum," Mr. F said. "When I was collecting the flashlight, I accidentally took it out. Thank you to the visitors for their cooperation."
"Thank you, you're welcome." Fan Ning also stretched out his hands to take it.
Expanding the sound effects and harmony system? Holistic art and mysticism?... It seems that there is no such person. Fan Ning has never heard of any contemporary musician who calls himself "Mr. F" in several countries. Why did Mr. F say that three people listened to it?
His music?
However, when he held the wooden handle of the baton in his hand again, Fan Ning breathed a sigh of relief. At least, the thing was back.
At the same time, he became more and more puzzled about the origin of Mr. F. This person's good intentions or malice may be even harder to distinguish than the Special Inspection Bureau, which has already shown signs.
"The baton is made of good material." Investigator Vasius, who witnessed the whole process, commented aloud.
"The effect will be more ideal in practice." Fan Ning responded with a smile, "If it can be performed at the Summer Art Festival on time in the future, you can experience it for yourself."
"I hope so." Vasius said, "You borrowed No. 9, right?"
"...What No. 9?" Fan Ning asked subconsciously.
"There are no animals among the visitors, right?" Mr. F spoke again, interrupting his thinking.
This strange question made Xilan and the others behind him look at each other, and then shook their heads in confusion.
"Then... I wish everyone a happy viewing of the exhibition, and remember to come out before dawn." Mr. F returned to the information desk and sat down. "Finally, jumping off the building is prohibited."
"Mr. Fanning, please." Vasius made a gesture of reaching out.
Fan Ning took a deep breath and stepped up the stairwell.
He wanted to see what exactly Vasius had in mind.
After turning back in two directions, Fan Ning led everyone to the upper floor, which is technically the second floor of the art museum, but the door to the stairwell is marked with the first-floor house number "F1" in Hoffmann.
As soon as the door was opened, everyone was blinded by the inexplicable red light in front of them.
This floor is just like what I saw outside the building before. The distance between the floors is very low. The corridors with a height of less than two meters make people feel depressing. The red light comes from the strange rectangular light bulbs on the ceiling. At a glance, they
Just stick it on people's hair.
While slowly moving forward, it took Fan Ning nearly a minute for his vision to adapt. With the help of these strange colors, he finally saw several paintings clearly - these works were also crappy, even if the colors were distorted.
It can also be seen from the line composition that it is at the same "artistic level" as the performance I heard at the concert before.
"Caron..." Sheeran stepped up to Fan Ning and tugged on the corner of his clothes, "The door...is gone."
Fan Ning turned around and found that the wall in the corridor had become smooth and flat.
"It doesn't matter. Even if there is really no way back, aren't there still windows?" Fan Ning pointed to the fork at the far end of the corridor, "I estimate that the distance here from the ground is less than three meters..."
He was used to seeing big scenes but now he became calm.
"But didn't Mr. F say that jumping off buildings is prohibited?" Roy asked.
"I don't seem to think it's impossible." Fan Ning quickly walked to the window, frowning and looking at the night below, "But since this matter is not urgent, don't try it."
Everyone still walked around the entire second floor of the art museum. Although there were a few side streets, because the area was too small, we quickly walked around.
There are not only red light areas here, but seven types.
Yellow, purple, cyan, white, green, red, as well as flickering black and white flashes, these lights divide the entire second floor into seven irregular areas of different sizes.
"Mr. Fanning, did you see anything or think of anything?" Vasius asked suddenly and abruptly.
"The colors of the seven phases." Fan Ning glanced at the investigator, "Any knowledgeable person who is not crazy can see it. Doesn't Mr. Vasius also need to test me?"
"Very good, then just keep thinking and see if you can think of anything." Wasius smiled and stood back beside the strange residents.
...What exactly is this guy determining? Fan Ning was confused at first, and then thought of analyzing and taking action, but in the end he suppressed it because the variables were too great and the interests were not the primary concern.
The second floor of the art gallery fell into silence for a moment. While he was lost in thought, there was a crisp "bang" sound, and the yellow light above his head suddenly became more intense. Except for the six dull residents, including Vasius,
Several people subconsciously covered their eyes.
To be continued...