Mysterious recovery

However, after walking for a long time, Yang Jian stopped again.

Because the road has come to an end.

Yang Jiangui saw a hut at the end.

The door of the hut was closed tightly, and it was impossible to see what was inside, as if there was an invisible spiritual force interfering.

"Is this hut the end of the road? Or is this hut just the scene of one of the oil paintings?" Yang Jian hesitated at this moment.

The answer in his heart is biased towards the latter.

This main road is also a fork in a certain oil painting.

So there is no main road.

No matter which way you go, you will encounter things that stand in your way.

"There is another possibility. The real road is hidden behind a certain painting. Through one of the paintings, you can find the correct road and find the source." Yang Jian continued to walk forward with this thought.

Zhou Ze on the side couldn't see far away, the surroundings were dark and his vision was severely damaged, but soon he also saw a hut in front of the road.

"This is..." He looked at Yang Jian with some hesitation.

Yang Jian ignored it, but went straight to the hut and opened the door.

Strangely though.

The inside of the hut was messy, but the strange figure was not seen, that is to say, this oil painting was not a figure oil painting, but an object oil painting.

"I remember this painting. I saw it on the fifth floor." Suddenly, Yang Jian moved his eyes and saw something in the cabin.

It was an unremarkable glass bottle in the corner, with a pale arm soaked in the glass bottle.

"It's one of the fragments of the corpse soaked in glass bottles, so this painting is the one I found on the fifth floor." Yang Jian walked into the room. He didn't move anything, didn't take anything, just Take the glass bottle away.

After he got it, he had three corpse fragments.

There is another one in room 501.

"Take it, don't lose it." Yang Jian handed the glass bottle to Zhou Ze.

"Okay, okay."

Zhou Ze nodded. After looking at it, he felt that it was a little tricky, but he still didn't dare to drop it, so he just put it in the backpack behind his back.

Yang Jian looked around the room again, and quickly locked a door.

This is not the door you just came in, but another one.

After he pushed it open, a path appeared behind the door.

The road twists and turns, and it seems to lead to an unknown place again.

And the darkness got worse, and Yang Jian's ghost eyes couldn't see the end.

"Go ahead." He pondered for a moment, not wanting to turn back, and continued to choose to go deeper.

"We are too far away from the previous exit, and we may not be able to go back." Zhou Ze expressed his worries.

Yang Jian said: "So what if you go back, do you want to send a letter? That is just a way to die, but the way here may be a way to survive. I have been thinking about why the post office leaves so many Oil painting? Why didn’t so many messengers investigate such an obvious clue.”

"Dangerous, unknown, let the messenger stop, no one investigates here, so no one knows what is behind the oil painting."

"I think Sun Rui entered here with the idea of ​​fighting to the death, so there must be some secrets here."

After speaking, Yang Jian continued on the road.

He was decisive and quickened his pace, because there was no danger on the road, so there was no need to waste time.

Zhou Ze had no choice but to continue to follow. He was just an errand runner anyway, so he had no choice.

The two continued down the path.

The fork in the road became smaller obviously. After walking for a while, Yang Jian could no longer see the fork, but a special main road.

At least that's how Yang Jian felt.

Keep going.

Yang Jian's ghost eyes finally saw lights flickering in the distance, and a building loomed in the dim environment.

keep getting closer.

The lights became more and more obvious, they were colorful neon lights.

And the outline of the building gradually appeared. It was a tall building from the Republic of China period.

"This is... a ghost post office?" Yang Jian was shocked at this moment, he followed the main road and found the source, which turned out to be a ghost post office.

The ghost post office in the oil painting?

Or.

Is this the real ghost post office?

Doubt, puzzlement, surprise.

"Follow." Yang Jian started to run, his speed was very fast, and he went straight to the ghost post office at the end of the road.

The closer you get, the clearer the ghost post office becomes.

And under the scrutiny of ghost eyes, this ghost post office is exactly the same as the real ghost post office, there is no difference.

At this moment, he was a little suspicious, whether he was in the real post office or the post office in the oil painting.

That Hong sister said that the ghost post office is a bureau.

People in the bureau can never solve the ghost post office.

After Yang Jian ran for a while, he stood in front of the gate of the ghost post office.

The ghost post office was lit, and the yellow light illuminated the lobby on the first floor, and there seemed to be people walking around.

Vaguely, he seemed to see the old man with the ax wandering in the lobby on the first floor.

"No way, there is actually a ghost post office here?" Zhou Ze was also shocked by the scene in front of him.

Yang Jian's complexion changed: "There is someone inside, I'm not sure if it's a person, but that old thing with an ax is inside the post office, you'd better be prepared, I'm going in to have a look."

It's impossible to get to this point without seeing it.

He felt that the secret of the post office was here, and perhaps a lot of things could get a reasonable explanation after entering the ghost post office in the oil painting.

"Don't worry, I'll admit it if I really die here." Zhou Ze took a deep breath and said.

If he didn't come here today, he would never have discovered the secret.

Immediately.

Yang Jian opened the door of the ghost post office, but just as he opened the door, an ax fell towards his forehead.

"Again?"

The next moment, his ghost image cooperated with the ghost hand to directly grab the man's arm, blocking the axe.

really.

It was the old man who made the move, his face was dark and extremely vicious, but he only had one arm left, and the other arm was removed by Yang Jian before.

"Go away." Yang Jian stretched out his legs and kicked the old thing, and at the same time snatched his ax away.

The old man who lost an arm seemed to be less frightened. He couldn't confront Yang Jian head-on, so he was kicked and flew far away.

However this moment.

There was a group of people in this weird post office hall, they turned their heads and stared at Yang Jian.

That gaze was as strange as a ghost, but with some special emotions, warning, threat, surprise, and numbness...

Yang Jian glanced at those people.

Familiar faces came to mind.

These people are all the portraits of the characters in the oil paintings... It's just that some of them are very strange, and they haven't seen them in the oil paintings on the fifth floor, but they look very old in terms of their clothes and clothes, as if they have been forgotten.

It is completely unimaginable that there are such a group of people in the post office here. These people are all sent from the post office on the fifth floor, so they leave portraits and have the possibility of resurrection.

Now that I think about it carefully, the things hidden behind here are not simple. The post office seems to be a huge trap.

-------------Chapter Dividing Line---------------

Yang Jian is standing in front of the post office in this oil painting.

The door opened, but the lobby on the first floor here gathered a lot of people of all kinds. Their clothes seemed to span several years, ten years, or even decades. They were all different, and they didn't seem to be alive. Like a human being, there is a strange look in those eyes.

But these people are not fierce ghosts, because Yang Jian also read surprise and astonishment from certain eyes.

A real Specter would not have these living human emotions.

Yang Jian stared at them, and these weird people also stared at Yang Jian. The scene fell into a deathly silence, and Zhou Ze, who followed him, was also stunned at the moment, with a bit of shock on his face. color.

why.

Why is there a ghost post office in the world in the oil painting?

Why are there so many weird people hiding in this ghost post office.

at the same time.

The old man whose ax was taken away by Yang Jian and kicked flying away struggled to stand up again at this moment. He seemed to feel no pain, and it didn't matter if he lost an arm. A kind of hatred was revealed on his darkened face. And angry, seems to want to stand up and do it again.

But he was stopped by another person next to him who stretched out his hand and didn't want him to continue.

"If I'm not wrong in my judgment, these are all couriers who delivered three letters on the fifth floor of the post office. Although some of them don't appear on the oil paintings, their identities are not difficult to guess."

Yang Jian thought to himself, and at the same time felt an inexplicable chill.

With so many people gathered together, what exactly is the ghost post office going to do?

And are these people really human?

"Who are you guys? Can you talk?" Yang Jian asked directly with a solemn expression.

But after he finished speaking, the hall on the first floor of the post office was still quiet, as if no one heard what he said, or because this place itself is in a spiritual world, no living people stepped in, and two living people left rashly Coming in made these people uncomfortable, and they couldn't even accept it.

"It's been so many years, I didn't expect a messenger to take the initiative to set foot in this place."

However, under the deathly calm, a voice came out.

In the hall on the first floor, everyone looked in the direction of the voice.

The person who spoke was a man in his early thirties. This man's hair was not messed up, and he was neatly dressed, but his style of dressing and dressing was incompatible with modern times. It was at least decades old.

"Who are you?" The man's eyes rolled, numb and dull, like a ghost.

"Who are you?" Yang Jian looked at him and asked.

The man paused for a long moment, he seemed to be silent, and then said: "I am Zhang Xianguang, a dead person."

"Yang Jian, a person who is still alive."

"You can tell." The man who claimed to be Zhang Xianguang nodded slightly and said, "Do you know where this is?"

"The ghost post office in the oil painting?" Yang Jian asked directly.

Zhang Xianguang said: "This is a supernatural cage, and those things like us who are neither human nor ghost are imprisoned. The living dare not set foot in it."

"You should all be messengers on the fifth floor, and according to my inference, all of you have delivered three letters and left the post office. Only those who leave the post office will leave their own oil paintings in the post office... So, in the oil paintings Do people in this world also have independent consciousness?"

Yang Jian glanced over.

If this is true, then there will be a familiar person here.

That was his father.

Because I saw the oil paintings of my father and cousin in Yangjian on the fifth floor, which shows that they also live in this spiritual world.

"You are very smart, it seems that you have already understood something." Zhang Xianguang said: "Our life will always be fixed at the moment when we leave the post office after delivering the last letter. Although for the real us, we have already left the post office, but There's never a way for us to get out of the post office."

"It's a curse that can never be shaken off."

At this moment, another person spoke again: "To bear this curse is like falling into hell, just to wait for a result."

"Resurrection?" Yang Jian asked immediately, his eyes moving slightly.

Another person answered: "Yes, it is resurrection. After the courier on the fifth floor delivers the last letter, he can choose to let one of the people here go out of the oil painting world and be completely resurrected, but as a price, the courier will lose his right to leave the post office." Opportunities, go back to the first floor to resend the letter, over and over again, endless."