I'm putting on a vest

Move forward.Move forward.Familiar road, strange feeling.Fukuzawa Yukichi has never felt more acutely aware of his former killer than he does now.

The road is still the same road, but the feeling is very different.

Even if the eyes are closed, or it is precisely because the eyes are closed that the difference can be felt, rather than being deceived by the steel and concrete that look the same on the surface.

When you walk in the Amazon rainforest full of beasts lurking, and when you walk on the grass, although you are stepping on grass blades and occasionally stepping on broken branches, the feeling is still different in the final analysis.

Fukuzawa Yukichi walked forward, the light reflected in his eyes and changed, he felt that what he saw was not real.

He stepped on a small stone.

The stone made a slight clicking sound and shattered under his feet, giving him the same feeling as stepping on a human eyeball.

He stopped, raised his foot, watched the small stone rolled away by the wind, and then began to question his suspicion.

what's wrong with me?Fukuzawa Yukichi thought, or what happened to this place?

According to intelligence, this is the place where the port mafia fought with new forces a few days ago. Here, the port mafia suffered its first apparent failure in several years. Fukuzawa Yukichi didn't know why he had to leave in a hurry Park came here, his eyes searched and found something unusual.

He didn't see the marks left by the bullets on the wall.

There are some bullet casings on the ground, and there is also dried blood, which is obvious even after being cleaned up (the cleanup personnel of the port mafia have never paid much attention to it, even the most novice police can know what happened here at a glance The extent of a major murder.) But he did not see any traces of being hit by bullets.

It is impossible for ordinary members of the mafia to be sharpshooters, and it is impossible for every bullet to hit the target. If the gun fires, the obstacle will definitely be attacked, but for some reason there is no trace of being shot here.

It's as if those bullets were blocked by a barrier at the same time when they hit a line.

Fukuzawa Yukichi stepped on another thing, and that thing gave him the feeling of stepping on a piece of human skin.

He took his feet away and looked down. It was a painting.The color is weird, and it is so dirty that it has been trampled on. From a distance, it almost melts into the blood and mud.

There are countless mafia personnel pierced by green vines in the painting, and the fear on their faces is so lifelike, it is almost like putting real human beings into this painting for prying eyes.

Fukuzawa Yukichi picked up the painting, and gently brushed off the floating soil in the lower right corner, revealing a signature written in cursive script.

Mashiro Shiina.

This is the author's name.

Mashiro Shiina leaned her head against the wall behind her.

The basement was a bit cold, and the water kept dripping down. In order to avoid the water droplets, she had put her feet on the horizontal board of the stool, but occasionally a little splashed on her exposed ankles.

Every time this happens, the girl curls up her body a little bit smaller.

What the boy said, "Please follow me." Sure enough, there was no difference from what the policeman said on TV, "Come with me."

No matter how polite you were at the time, you should have noticed something was wrong when you got into the all-black car with bulletproof glass and drove in silence all the way to more and more remote places.

When she arrived at the building in Ganghei, she was pointed at by everyone at gunpoint. She walked all the way to the elevator, without looking sideways, and saw that they had entered several layers of combination locks, and then took herself to this basement.

Next to the basement was a hideous looking instrument of torture. I don't know if it had been washed, and there was still a little minced meat hanging on it. Shiina Mashiro saw there, and then moved away.

She didn't know if those things would be used on her.

Facing her was a cage with iron bars, and now she was sitting in a rare and clean place in the basement: a chair for watching.The wind was always blowing towards her, and she curled up her body a little bit smaller.

She is waiting.

It doesn't matter if it's the person who is waiting for the tormentor or the hound, it doesn't matter who comes.

"If..." Zhenbai whispered, her nails oozing blood from the cracks when she picked her skirt, dyeing her skirt a darker color.

"What if everyone... died?"

She is so cold.

【...Are you going to be? 】

"Harmful." She was very modest, "Let's see how the plot develops."

The role of Shiina Mashiro in Wenye is definitely not able to shine as a painter. For the sake of fashion, she introduced the Cthulhu myth...

"But how can Cthulhu not lose San?"

"Not to mention that there is a Lovecraft in this world. I can't even imagine the scene when the two meet."

[The big deal is that the world will be destroyed again. 】

"Well, let's see how people in this world choose. After all, Zhenbai is a good child, but she has been too crazy recently, too crazy."

She bit her finger and giggled.

"If they push her again, she should kill herself." By the way, bring this world to hell.

Zhong Yuanzhong also opened the door to the basement, frowning slightly.Watch the air move in the light of the lamp, and wait for the air inside to flow out, into the hallway.

No matter how many times he can't get used to the smell inside.

He stood there for a few seconds, then walked in.

He looked at the young girl in front of him, she was sitting on a stool, she had long golden hair and red eyes, she was a carefully raised girl, staring blankly at a small spot on the floor.

Her eyes were as beautiful as jewels, but the split nails made her look a little embarrassed.There were some stains on her clothes.When she looked up at him, he saw the slight dark circles under her eyes.

She is used to staring at a person, which shows that she is not in a good state of mind.

Zhong Yuanzhong didn't know why he let himself take over this mess.

He held out his hand to her and asked her "Can you stand up?"

The girl didn't take his hand, and slowly stepped her feet from the crossbar on the chair to the floor. Just touching the cool floor, even through a layer of soles, made her pause for a while.

But she still stood in front of him.

She faced him, her lips parted slightly, exhaling breath from it, which almost condensed into white mist in the cold basement.

Zhong Yuanzhong also looked at her, and then at the cage with iron bars beside him.

He took out the key and inserted it into the lock of the cage. The sound of the key colliding with the mechanism inside the lock sounded so obvious in the basement. Shiina Mashiro watched quietly, and he caught a glimpse of the tiny fluff on her cheek standing up slightly.

"Click" the lock was removed, and he opened the iron door.

"Go in," he said.

Shiina Mashiro sat on the low bed.

When she was outside before, she could comfort herself that at least she didn't use any instruments of torture on her body, and at least she wasn't in the cage inside, she was sitting on the only chair in the basement.

Now that she is locked in a cage, she can comfort herself. At least there is a bed in the cage. Although there is no pillow on this bed, there is a big brown-red stain where the pillow should be. She doesn't want to think about what that stain is. .

Sitting on it, she felt that even through several layers of fabric, the place where her body was in contact with the bed was irreparably stained.

The boy was locked, and he glanced at her through the railing, his eyes were firm and cold.

Are all the people in the mafia so cruel?

He didn't turn off the light when he went out, and the electric light was still shining dimly, illuminating the dust in the air in the basement.The dust floated slowly, and after getting out of the light, she couldn't see it anymore.

The boy's figure passed the light, and the door closed with a bang.

Shiina Mashiro was the only one in the cage.

Sitting here, she felt a wordless loneliness.

The first time she saw him she was still in the park, the second time she came to this basement, the third time she was in the cage... What will happen when he comes in the fourth time?

Her eyes swept over the instruments of torture that still had pieces of meat on them.He even stretched out his hand, and compared the size of his body with that torture instrument from a few meters away.

Those instruments of torture looked a little too big, maybe they couldn't be used on him.Hope suddenly ignited in her heart.

But she knows that when she goes shopping for clothes, she may not be able to buy the right size, but the mafia must have their own experience of torturing people of all ages and shapes - if not, how can they rule this city What about darkness?

She thought, looking out of the railing, and felt an unspeakable hatred for everyone in this building.

Yes, she killed people, 37 of them, and they wanted revenge.But why?Wasn't it because she was running away, panicked, and everyone pointed guns at her as soon as she passed that place. ...Aren't those people in the drug or arms business at the time? !

She hadn't thought of killing them, but the bullets had come, the bullets had come, and her paintings were protecting her because they needed her to give birth to them.

She suddenly felt that the painting that was eroding her that she had escaped from before was her only savior—compared to reality.The gods in those dreams are more gentle.

Shiina Mashiro's eyes were blank for a moment.

She habitually stuffed her fingers into her mouth and gnawed, blood flowed from between her closed teeth, flowed down her fingers, flowed to her wrists, and sank into her cuffs.

She fixedly looked at the dyed cuffs and wiped them with her hands.

The blood was not wiped off, but spread even more.

She looked at the red area spreading on the fabric, and then turned her head to look at the cement wall panel behind her. People who used to be here carved a lot of handwriting, very desperate, most of them were dirty and couldn't be more dirty. Even if she saw it, she would look at it. Curses that I don't understand.

Shiina Mashiro pressed his bleeding fingertips against the wall.

As soon as she pressed it, her fingertips trembled slightly, and she let out a slight cry of pain, but the blood did leave traces on it.She wrote it without hesitation.

"I didn't tell Ozu the whole truth. Because I've forgotten it myself."

That book, that book that inspired all her inspirations, and the spell book that made her travel here is not completely incomprehensible to her.

Even if humans cannot understand even a single sentence in it, because the language above is not for humans to read, maybe let a plant read or a shadow read, they can all read better, only rational humans Can't understand some words.

But Shiina Mashiro is not completely incomprehensible.

When she was painting the craziest, she understood a few words in the book through the colors in front of her.

Now, on the wall, with her blood, with her trembling fingertips, with every one of her nerves screaming pain to the brain.She paints her memory.

"Come on. Come on," she kept chanting, the gap in her arm aching from the hounds, but she needed more than these little ones right now.

"not enough."

She wants something bigger.

Ph'ngluimglw'nafhCthulhuR'lyehwgah'naglfhtagn

"Destroy me." And this world.