Mystery: The Stars Returner

"I was careless on purpose."

Feeling the biting cold air, Hastur curled up his neck slightly, sat upright, and answered honestly.

"..."

The coldness that Sharon had accumulated weakened a lot at this moment.

She took a deep breath, her pretty face turned cold, her beautiful eyes turned sinister, and she said coldly: "You mean, you are deliberately telling me this kind of story?"

"This is not perfunctory, I also made it up very carefully."

"……fake?"

"Yes, except for what happened in reality, basically all stories are compiled by humans. Recording them completely based on facts is called history."

"You're very quibbling."

Sharon finally figured out that it was difficult for her to catch Hastur's shortcomings on this kind of issue, and he indeed deliberately made up this confusing story.

Is this to avenge yourself for teasing him last time?

Thinking of the last time I took advantage of playing games to draw a cat face on Hastur's face, I felt much better instantly.

Finally, she said, "This story doesn't work. Think of a new one."

Hastur said with a smile: "Okay, it just takes a little time."

"how long?"

"Half an hour."

"..."

Sharon just felt that Hastur's smiling face was a bit in need of a beating at the moment.

"Then hurry up and write."

After saying these words, Miss Sharon's figure disappeared from the mirror.

On the sofa, Hasta kept a faint smile on his face, but he wanted to laugh out loud in his heart.

God knows how uncomfortable it was for him to hold back his laughter just now. Things like Little Blue Riding Hood and Grandma Wolf were all improvised by him to amuse Sharon.

Who asked her to draw a cat face on her face last time?

And it’s interesting to see the obvious emotional ups and downs on Sharon’s puppet-like face.

After a while, Hastur, who barely calmed down, came to his desk and began to compose a short story.

If there was no Russell in front of him, he could make up many fairy tales, but in order not to conflict with the stories told by Russell, he could only tell some fairy tales localized in the mysterious world.

And this does take some time, half an hour is still slightly enough for him.

After about twenty minutes, he had already conceived a brand new story, which should also suit Sharon's preferences.

When the time came to about half an hour, Hasta walked from the desk to the sofa, looked at the empty mirror, and shouted: "Miss Sharon, are you still there?"

The smooth mirror surface flashed slightly, and Sharon's figure did not appear, but only used a ray of light to indicate that she had not left yet.

Is this because you are angry about the story you just told?

Hastur also felt that the messy story was really annoying.

He sat on the sofa, spread the piece of paper on his lap, collected his thoughts and said, "The story I'm telling this time is called Pinocchio."

Just the title of the story made Sharon reveal herself from the mirror, but she did not speak to disturb Hasta at this moment, for fear of disturbing the story he was going to tell next.

"In a distant country, there is a family like this in a slum on the outskirts. There are five members in the family, parents and three children, two boys and one girl."

"My father works as a manual worker in a nearby factory, and my mother makes some matchboxes at home and sells them to support the family. Although life is hard, the family is united and working together for a good life, which is quite happy."

"After the three children grew up, the girl stayed at home to help her mother with simple household tasks. The older boy had already followed his father's example and worked outside to make money. The younger boy was younger and was taking handicraft classes outside. "

"I heard from the teacher that as long as you can learn a craft well, you won't have to worry about not being able to support yourself even if you wander around in the future."

"The little boy learned the craft of making puppets. He likes to manipulate the puppets to make various movements with a few silk threads, just like the performances in the circus. He can also use oil paint on the face of each puppet. Depicting different emotions, their happiness, anger, sorrow, and joy depend entirely on his mood and thoughts.”

"Because he liked it, the little boy studied very seriously and quickly learned his skills from the teacher. His puppet-making skills even surpassed his own teacher."

"His teacher was very pleased. When he finished teaching him, he gave him the last lesson. The teacher told the little boy that the real puppet masters, the puppets they made were alive and had their own consciousness and thinking. an independent living entity, rather than a lifeless ordinary puppet."

"Making living puppets became the direction of the little boy's struggle. However, several years later, when the little boy had grown up to be a young man, he still could not make living puppets. This made him very frustrated and even doubted that he had the ability. Do the puppets of life really exist?”

"Until that day, his father accidentally died in an accident while working in a factory. Looking at his father lying on the bed, covered with white cloth, completely lifeless, it felt as if his heart had been drained."

"At this moment, he felt like he was struck by lightning, as if he had a sudden epiphany. He ran out, locked himself in the wooden house used to make puppets, and locked it from the inside."

"His relatives thought he was overly sad, so they allowed him to hide in the wooden house. It was not until the seventh day after his father's death that he walked out of the wooden house, with his father following behind him."

"His family members were shocked to find that this so-called father was a lifelike puppet. But this puppet father could walk, jump, talk, and think of his own. Except that he didn't need to eat, he was nothing like ordinary people. Big difference."

"After that, the puppet stayed at home."

Just when Sharon was looking forward to what story would happen next, Hastur stopped telling her story.

Sharon waited patiently for a while and found that Hastur seemed to have no intention of continuing, so she urged: "Why don't you continue?"

"I can only tell such a long story in half an hour. As for the more exciting stories that follow, I still need time to brew."

"..."

A gust of wind blew away the piece of paper on Hastur's lap. It was Sharon who used some tricks from inside the mirror.

Hastur didn't stop him, he just looked at Sharon in the mirror with a smile.

Not a few seconds later, the piece of paper was back on Hastur's lap.

There is only a rough outline of the story written here and there, and for the time being the framework only picks up where the story left off.

"This story is pretty good. When can we get the next story?"

Sharon's voice was very soft and pleasant, not like a lark, but like a gently flowing stream.

You may not be too surprised when you first listen to it, but if you calm down and listen slowly, every word can gently touch the depths of your heart, giving people a numb and comfortable feeling.

"It will be three days at the earliest." Hasta thought about the approximate time.

"Okay, then I'll come back in three days."

"Wait a minute, Miss Sharon, are you leaving like this?"

"You, do you have anything else?"

In the mirror, Sharon looked at Hastur in confusion, her blue eyes as bright as gems.

"Didn't I agree before that you would be responsible for teaching me Giant and Elvish languages?"

Sharon blinked, with a rare puzzled expression on her face, "Is there such a thing? Why don't I remember?"

"Miss Sharon, are you planning to cheat?"

Sharon thought for a while and said, "Isn't it possible?"

"..."

In Hastur's slightly depressed mood, Sharon walked away from the mirror.

"This is obviously revenge for the story I just told."

"Do you yourself know that there is something wrong with that story just now?"

A voice came from the mirror, and Sharon, who had already gone away, used some method to say this through the mirror.

"..."

Hastur kept silent, and silently formulated a rule prohibiting the invisible ghosts here.

After confirming that Sharon was gone, he left the study with a smile.

When nothing happens, it's fun to tease Sharon.

After checking the time, it was not even eleven o'clock, so Hasta decided to take a bath first and then go back to his room to rest.

Going to bed on time is the best habit he has kept since he came to the mysterious world.

In previous modern societies, staying up all night playing games was commonplace.

Generally, after staying up late, the feet will feel weak and the spirit will be exhausted. In the mysterious world, this situation is very dangerous, especially at the spiritual level.

After taking a bath, I went to the bedroom, lay on the bed, and entered the palace of stars.

Checking a circle of stars, we found that only the stars of the high-dimensional observer showed some slight movement.

Under the cocoon of light, there are still two silk threads hanging, one hanging a white crystal eyeball, and the other hanging a young man dressed as a gentleman, who is roaming the streets of a city.

Late at night, the city is hard to calm down at night.

Many places were filled with fire, houses were on fire, people set themselves on fire, people were panicked, and police officers tried their best to maintain stability. The whole street was in chaos.

The incarnation of the high-dimensional overlooker walks among them, with a calm and elegant posture that is incompatible with the chaos and noise around it.

"Is this the chaos caused by the high-dimensional Overlooker's path?"

This was the first thought that came to Hastur's mind, but after a closer look, the chaos in the city in the picture was not caused by the high-dimensional overlooker.

It's more like the chaos and bustle of this city that attracted the high-dimensional overlookers.

But soon, the high-dimensional overlooker left the city, seemingly traveling through time and space out of thin air, and came to a small city.

This is a small city built on a mountain. All the houses here have protruding domes, which look like white straw hats from a distance.