Manual of Space-Time Interference

You can't sleep deeply on the battlefield, because you don't know if there will be any emergencies, so the dialect just slept lightly, and after a little jet lag, he woke up again.

The time on the watch was also slowly approaching 12 o'clock. Fang Yan looked at it, rubbed his eyes, reached out and took the backpack next to him, opened a pack of biscuits, and sat quietly on the bed, thinking about something. .

The space for activities is basically limited within this building, and the time for activities is basically limited to night, because it is easy to be exposed during the day when there is plenty of light.

At the same time, dialects also have to face a crucial problem, which is "claustrophobia".

At this stage, this may be the most maddening thing in dialect, especially after 30 days of isolation, this anxiety is particularly obvious.

And the current environment, this room similar to a small black house, has deepened the occurrence of this situation. Dialect even felt that maybe he would really become what Yu Chen said-after a long period of pressure caused a slight schizophrenia.

In 6 months, Dialect may be able to turn into a slightly experienced field survival expert, or become an elite special soldier, but it cannot change the habit of communicating with people that he has developed over the past 20 years.

This is not a joke. Willpower is sometimes very mysterious, but Dialect knows that his willpower is not enough to survive these 10 days of small dark room, especially when the nerves are tense and vigilant at all times. Under the circumstances...

Therefore, for the sake of his own mental health, and in order not to become the mental schizophrenia in Yu Chen's mouth, dialects have to find something to do to distract him.

After all, Gou still has to pay attention to methods and methods, otherwise, what should Gou do when he gets sick?

For him, who has no equipment and no equipment, the easiest way to divert his attention is to exercise.

Dialect thought, nodded, put the remaining half-pack of biscuits aside, put his hands on the ground, and began to do push-ups on the ground, but he only did a few hundred, and stopped when his shoulders were a little sore. After coming down, he walked gently to the window, looking at the desolate world outside through the gap between the curtains.

"Tsk!"

Dialect smashed his mouth, suddenly nostalgic for the tablet that he would bring every time he crossed the border. He could watch movies, read novels, listen to music, and even make himself immortal...

……

Time, walking slowly, the distant tomorrow is slowly blocked by thick clouds, this world suddenly darkened in an instant, and the firelight in the distance was quietly obvious. .

"It is going to rain."

Dialect looked at the accumulated clouds in the sky and muttered, sat down on the bed again, looked at the dim space, and did simple exercises such as push-ups and sit-ups again.

The sky gradually darkened, and even the whole room became even darker. Dialect looked at the time on his watch, stood up with his hands on his back, and took a few breaths of relief before holding a towel. Wiping the sweat on his forehead, he sat on the edge of the bed.

After a short rest, he took out his dinner, accompanied it with a can of drink, and started eating slowly.

The hour hand on the watch was still turning non-stop, the whole room was basically completely dark, and the dialect watched, silently took the backpack, looked at the pistol with only three bullets left, paused, and finally Still disgusted to pick it up, after all, this is his only long-range attack method.

Slowly bringing the frying pan and saber, Dialect took a breath, disarmed the alarm device he had set up, and gently stepped out of the door...

……

It was very quiet, and it was no different, but compared to the early morning when the moon was still shrouded in moonlight, today's night was even darker.

The sound of artillery fire in the distance is still the same, but there is a period of time. The sound seems to be a bit louder than that in the morning, but it is not obvious.

"Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!"

A slight voice came from outside, and Dialect quickly fell to the ground. After waiting for the helicopter to fly away, he carefully listened to the sounds around him, and then he got up again and continued to touch downstairs.

Lao Maozi didn't have much left behind. Even if there was a part of the bread, the dialect dared not move it, because the shelf life of ordinary bread would not exceed one week.

As for the contents of the refrigerator, after he opened the first refrigerator door, he had lost any idea, and by the way, he also threw the salted fish he brought into it. Adding a bit of danger to this gas bomb.

"this is not bad!"

Dialect muttered, put a set of building blocks into his backpack, glanced at the wine rack next to him, and walked directly outside.

Wine can be seen more or less in every room, which makes the dialect deeply resentful. After all, he can't get stronger when he drinks...

Gently cleaned up the traces she left behind ~www.wuxiaspot.com~ Dialect closed the door and walked in towards the remaining room on this floor.

"boom!"

A gunshot sounded abruptly in the distance, and the dialect was stunned, and quickly hid in the kitchen.

"Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!"

The sound of gunfire mixed with the explosion of grenades kept coming. Dialect took a breath. After estimating the distance and orientation, he slowly found the location of the living room balcony.

"To the southeast, at a distance of 3 kilometers."

Dialect muttered, retracted his body, closed the door, and ran towards the seventh floor where he was.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

The gunshots started to get denser, and then became a little weaker. The dialect listened, relieved a few sighs, and then became tense again in an instant.

"Nima, don't fight me, okay!"

Dialect cursed, listening to the sound of gunshots getting closer and closer to him, quickened his pace and ran directly into the bedroom.

"The Jade Emperor, the Queen Mother, Sanqing is on top, don't fight this way..." Dialect muttered, quickly stuffing the biscuits and water into the backpack.

"Bang! Bang! Boom!"

The voice, getting closer and closer, didn't seem to stop. Dialect exhaled, put the backpack on his back, quickly cleaned up his traces in this room, and then retracted into the kitchen.

"Bang! Boom!"

The voice, although it was a little smaller again, made the dialect's heart rise again. Because of the gunshots, it was less than 1 km away from him, and it was still getting closer...

800, 500, 300, 100...

Dialect counted silently, then listened to the voice from downstairs, sighed leisurely,

It's over, I can't stand it anymore...

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