Journey to another world in the subway

Chapter 167 Signal
This piece of music gives people hope that their dreams will eventually come true, sometimes awakening pain in the body and sometimes soothing it.

The song is so wonderful that Sasha seems to be lost in a dark station, and suddenly she finds a lamp, and in the shadow of it, she finds the exit.

She stood next to a weapons tent, and in front of her stood a plywood board covered with knives ranging from pocket knives to sharp hunting knives.

The two parts of her body began to fight violently.

The idea in her mind was so simple that it made her ready to act.

The old man gave her a handful of bullets to carry with her, just enough bullets to exchange for a notched black silver knife - it had a wide blade and was well sharpened, just right for the man in her heart .

A minute later, Sasha ignored the overwhelming thoughts in her heart and bought the knife.

She stashed it in the breast pocket of her overalls.

When she returned to the military hospital, she could neither feel the slovenliness of the soldier's coat nor the discomfort in her arms.

The crowd was a full head higher than the girl, and Sasha couldn't see the musician who was playing such an amazing piece of music in the distance, but the melody chased the girl hard, releasing her and dissuading her.

In vain.
-
Someone knocked on the door again.

Panting heavily, Homer stood up with difficulty, wiped the corners of his mouth with his sleeve, and jerked the metal chain of the water tank, leaving a brown mark on the green dirty cotton demon.

He has thrown up 5 times in one day and one night, although he has not eaten anything.

There are many causes of this disease, the old man comforted himself.

Why is this damn disease developing so fast?
Maybe it's actually...

"Soon?!" A sharp female voice called out impatiently.

God!
Could it be that you were too anxious just now and misread the letter on the door?

Homer wiped his sweat with his dirty sleeve, forced himself to be calm, and moved the latch.

"Drunkard!" A well-dressed woman pushed him away angrily, and slammed her mouth shut.

The old man is at a loss, let her treat him as an alcoholic...

Homer moved to the mirror over the sink and propped his forehead against it for support.

He looked at himself in the mirror and gasped: the mask had slid off and hung on his chin.

Homer quickly pulled it back into place and closed his eyes again.

He couldn't help thinking that he spread death to everyone he touched along the way.

It was too late to turn away: if he had been infected, if he hadn't mistaken his present symptoms, the whole station would have been doomed.

Just like the woman just now, her mistake was that her body had an urgent need at the wrong time.

Shall I tell her now that she will die in a month at the latest?
How stupid, Homer thought, what a level of stupidity and incompetence!

He wanted to dedicate his book to those who left important marks in their lives, so that they could live forever, but instead sent them the angel of death-it was ugly, bald, and not strong.

The angel's wings were cut off and he was bound by a ring, which stipulated that it could only take action after 30 days.

Is this a punishment for his overconfidence and arrogance?

No, Homer could no longer hide the matter.

But there is only one person in the world who can listen to his confession, and Homer can't hide anything from him. If both people play the cards in their hands, both of them will feel much relieved.

He staggered back to the ward to rest.

His ward is located at the end of the corridor, and there is usually an assistant nurse on duty by the door of the ward, but now he doesn't know where to go.

Intermittent heavy breathing came from the mouth, and the words were intermittent. Even Homer, who was standing at the door holding his breath, couldn't put the individual words together to understand their meaning.

"It hurts more...struggle...should...have meaning...struggle...remember...you may make mistakes...rebuke...but still..."

The words turned into crying, as if the pain was unbearable.

Homer walked in.

Su Mengfan lay unconscious on the crumpled bed sheet soaked in blood.

Bandages wrapped around his head, barely covering his eyes, his high cheekbones were covered with sweat, and his dislocated jaw fell limply.

Coughing violently, his broad and strong chest was heaving up and down like iron-cast fur, and the weak breath was far from enough for such a strong body.

And Hunter just left after a simple treatment, like a robot, tireless.

The girl beside the pillow stood with her back to Homer, her slender hands folded behind her back.

Homer glanced at her, not at first noticing the black machete that blended into the fabric of her overalls, the girl's hand gripping the handle tightly.
-
beep.

doodle.beep……

1235.

1236.

1237.

Artyom counted, and he did not do this to gather evidence to justify himself before the commander.

He counted to feel himself moving.

He moved forward from one point, counting each beep, so that with each beep he was further away from the madness.

Self-deception?

Yes, even if it is self-paralysis.

The "beep" in Huajian seems to never stop-it's unbearable.

Although he liked this sound very much when he first started guarding: this "beep" sound is like a metronome, coordinating discordant thoughts, emptying his brain, and adjusting the fast-beating pulse to a normal speed.

But the sound was so regular that Artyom began to feel that he was caught in a time trap from which he would never be able to escape if the sound did not stop.

This regular sound made Artyom feel natural and comfortable, just like the beating of the heart in a tense situation, which made people very uncomfortable.

In the Middle Ages, there was such a way of torture: People shaved off the criminal's hair, placed a bucket above his head, and the water dripped drop by drop on the tip of his bald head. Everyone who received this punishment Eventually they all go crazy and lose their minds.Ordinary water works surprisingly well when people cannot afford to hang the prisoner to the torture rack where he is whipped.

Artyom was so tightly entangled with this telephone wire that he had no right to leave it for even a second.

He tried his best not to drink while on duty because he couldn't be distracted by the "beep" sound.

Two days ago he didn't hold back, slipped out of the room, ran to the bathroom quickly - and came back right away.

As soon as he arrived at the door of the room, he heard a "beep".

His heart has completely cooled down: the frequency of the beeps is different now, and the signal speeds up, which is different from the usual moderate speed.

(End of this chapter)