the culprit

Later, he always fell asleep for a while and then woke up. When he woke up, he was fed someone's blood again.

The pain continues.

Then he fell into a coma again, and experienced countless lives in his dream. He woke up from the coma for the last time, still saying "Mom" in his mouth.It was already dark outside the window, he didn't know if it was just dark or it was about to dawn.

The woman he called his mother in the dream, when he thought about it carefully, seemed to be the missing Mrs. Ma Ke.

Suffering a lot of injuries and witnessing too many deaths, but in the face of sorrow, the heart still clenches instinctively.

The skinny old man ordered the brown-haired man to untie Cyril, asked the servant to bathe him, change his clothes, feed him some water, and took him to another room.

This is like a normal room.

Bed, cupboard, table and stools.There is a vase on the cabinet with a few flowers in it.

Cyril was half-supported and half-embraced and thrown onto the bed. He was drowsy and wanted to get up, but his exhausted body couldn't exert any strength.The other party seemed to have foreseen this situation, and didn't bother to tie him up at all, and didn't even stay in the room to guard.He fell weakly on the bed and lay there for a while. After confirming that there was no one outside the door, he crawled to the edge of the bed with difficulty. Unexpectedly, just as he got out of bed, before he took two steps, his weak legs could no longer support the weight of his body. , causing him to fall heavily to the ground.

The young man fell on the ground and panted hard, his twice-injured tongue curled up in his mouth, burning like a pain.Reluctantly, he tried to stand up again, but before he could get up, he fell down again.

The pain vibrated in his viscera, and he couldn't help moaning, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't make himself walk to the window smoothly.

He can't stay here.

He must escape.

He tried his best again and again in sweat and panting, and fell to the ground again and again. When his fingers finally touched the wall under the window, the door creaked open.

"That's right, I still have the strength to climb there."

It was that dry, heartless voice again.

The next moment, Cyril was picked up by one hand.The brown-haired man always had a weird and evil smile on his face, looking at him like looking at a monkey that was injured in a circus show.

He was put back on the bed again.

The old man walked to the bed and held out his thin hand to hold his fingers.The touch, dry as bark, reminded Cyril of Mary, but the next second he felt sick at the association.He looked away contemptuously, and it took all his strength to forcefully shake off that hand.

"According to the calculation, you should have defeated eleven people, and you are the only survivor in this trial. The power you possess may shock even yourself." The old man said and shook his head, "It's a pity that you still I can't feel it. I really don't know good from bad." He sighed, turning a blind eye to Cyril's blatant disgust.He looked up at the brown-haired man, and the man came over knowingly and turned Cyril's head, forcing him to look at the old man.The old man leaned down and whispered in his unique voice, "Come, come with me to the dream."

Cyril wanted to close his eyes, but once he met the old man's gaze, he found that he couldn't control his limbs, he could only stare at him passively, listen to him, and follow his orders - he closed his eyes and fell into a dream instantly .

"Your spiritual power has supreme energy, and you can easily see through anyone's life. You can see through everyone's thoughts at every moment, and understand all their movements—you will become an omniscient and omnipotent god."

A voice sounded in the dream, Cyril opened his eyes and found himself suspended in the water.

"Listen to me, child. To gain this ability, you must give up what you hold on to. You must give up what you love and what you hate. You must keep your emotions and soul empty, or you will be disturbed."

"Who are you?" he asked in the water, a stream of bubbles escaping from his mouth.

"I am your beginning and your end. Come with me, follow me."

As the voice fell, Cyril felt himself being pushed forward in the water by a force.Some indistinct shadows floated from the water in front of him, he frowned in confusion, and subconsciously wanted to stop, but the force held his back and forced him to continue forward.

The shadows got closer and closer, and the outlines became clearer and clearer, until the first shadow passed before him, and he finally saw it clearly.

It's a corpse.

The first body was that of the mother, a woman as beautiful as a lily.She floated past him with her eyes closed, her wide sleeves bobbing up and down in the water, sweeping across his face.

This was the first death he encountered in his life.

Immediately afterwards, a second body floated in, that of an old woman.It's Mary.She curled up there, her head almost buried in her chest, her hands tightly holding her head, covered in blood.

This is the second death he has encountered in his life.

Then came Old Jack, Fat Cook, Hucken... and many people who had a brief relationship with him, their corpses drifted past his eyes one after another, some died peacefully, some died painfully.

After that came some monsters.The transformed vampire in the cellar, EG who turned into bones in the sun, Jin Ti, and Drizzt...

Immediately after him came his brothers and sisters.

Then there was Via, Via's husband, and Bray, and his father.

And finally Felix.There was a small silver knife in his chest, and the blood on his white shirt meandered into a long valley.

The vampire's corpse slowly floated past him, he clutched his chest hard, raised his hand to hold the corpse, he wanted to keep it, but the force just pushed him, not allowing him to turn back, not allowing him to turn back, telling him to just I can watch the dead body of my lover getting farther and farther away.

Beyond that, there is nothingness.

The death of the vampire was the last death he encountered in this life.

The death of a lover brings his life into an endless silence.

"They're all gone, they're all gone."

That voice rang in my ears.

"Do not……"

He tried to refute.

"They're all gone."

The voice repeated, hitting his eardrums like a bell.

"They're all gone."

They are all gone.

Cyril turned his head, the force behind him disappeared, he turned around easily, looked at the corpse that was gradually going away, and said nothing.

"What is gone becomes nothingness, there is no need to be nostalgic for nothingness."

There is no need to be nostalgic for nothingness.

Cyril was persuaded.

There seemed to be a voice in his heart, but it was too weak, and he couldn't hear it clearly, so he gave up.

"You have supreme power and will become the master." The voice pulled him and led him all the way in the water, "You can see through anyone's life, as long as you are willing to call the other person's name."

"name……"

"Lister Roger."

"Lister Roger."

"That's his name, call the other person's name, and you will know everything about him."

"Lister Roger."

Cyril repeated the name mechanically, walking in the water mechanically.

The voices that had been accompanying him disappeared at some point, and he walked on his own, from the water into the fire, through the wind and snow and the lush forest, and stood in front of the palace of the Kingdom of Irian.

The wind blew the flag of the revolutionaries, and he heard the sound of hunting.The flames were burning in a corner of the palace, and young revolutionaries rushed into the palace roaring. Holding the gun and sword in his hand, he strode across the stone bricks on the ground of the palace, stepped on the valuable carpets, and finally ended up in the attic of the palace. Found the king hiding here.

"As I said, victory is ours. I will do what I say, Your Majesty." He said, neither humble nor overbearing.With the sword sheathed, he seized the king with one hand and dragged him from the garret.When the brave young people saw them, they took off their hats and threw them into the sky, bursting into thunderous cheers.

He put the king in prison himself, and the young revolutionaries followed him, and a voice from the crowd asked him if he would support the revolution in the neighboring country.

He raised his head to look at the group of young people, and was about to express his opinion, but at this moment, his thoughts stopped strangely, like the gears of a mechanical clock suddenly stuck.

A large blank flooded into my mind, and loud white noise rang in my ears.He put his hand on his forehead uncomfortably, shook his head, and raised his head again, a sword was already on his neck.

"who are you?"

The person who asked the question was a man with a quiet temperament, who was born gentle and elegant, with a white hand holding the sword, but there was a calm murderous look in his eyes.

He was startled by this question, and actually began to seriously think about who he was.

Who is he.

Who is he?

He looked at the man standing in front of him.

He is him.

He is the man with the sword.

He is Lister Roger.

He drew his sword from his waist.

Everything around was still, the jumping flames froze, the hem of the tumbling clothes stagnated, the hair tips of the young people maintained a flexible arc, and the dejected king lay back, his body stopped in the air at an oblique angle.

Only he and him are moving.

The impact of the weapons made a crisp sound, and they stared at death through the flying sparks.He asked who he was, and he answered that he was Lister Roger, and he stabbed him in the chest, and he stabbed him in the throat.

The two Liszt Rogers fought face to face in this static time and space, and it was hard to tell the winner.

In the end, Liszt Roger saw the right opportunity and stabbed Liszt Roger in the eye with a sword.

The red color came all over the sky, the still ones began to move again, the flames whirled and made a whirring sound, the corners of the clothes fluttered, the raised hair tips drew a smooth trajectory in the air, and finally fell close to the face, and the dejected king got his wish dumped into the haystack.

He failed.

he wakes up.

The vomiting sensation churned in the stomach.

Cyril raised her hand to cover her pricked eye.

No blood, no injuries.

It's all a dream.