At this moment, Li Huai's memory of red beans is not so remote. They are all part of the pattern. Over time, all of these will fit some grand design, or so his unfettered thinking convinced him.

Suddenly, there was a subtle vibration in the box, and Li Huai worked hard to focus more clearly on the nature of the power in his hand. He knew that it concealed his figure, hiding its dark purpose behind the gifts of pleasure and relief.

Put it down, he told himself. But his body has been unhappy for so long, a certain Calvinist way of denying any self-righteous thoughts, as if one day he knew that it would weaken his will at the beginning of the battle, this marrow joy is enough to induce He temporarily lured him from the narrow road he was so obsessed with.

In short, instead of putting down the box, he continued to investigate it in a very close manner. This problem made him easily succumb to doubts about the edges of his thoughts. It showed him his heart, and their surfaces were inscribed like six outer walls. His fingers are not wrong now. They slide, press, and stroke; the box produces its own prosperity for every stimulus: it slides open, revealing the maze of flowers inside.

If there is no purposeful Arctic air rushing in suddenly, Li Huai will lose his confusion, turn the excited sweat on his back, and turn his forehead into a cloud of ice water. The spell was destroyed in an instant, this time it was moved by his own instructions, and the open box was placed under his feet. It made a strange sound in the narrow passage, as if a louder sound hit the ground. The Xian Yate is back.

"Oh, for God's sake," Li Huai said.

To Li Badi's surprise, he got an answer. The two small jars on the upper shelf turned over and fled to the floor, crushed. The appearance of the phantom made Li Wei feel so cold that his teeth were shaking.

"No. Go. Yellt." Li Huai said, his voice irritated.

The cold air dissipated. Yare soon obeyed Li Huai's order, and a flat clanging sound came from the ground, and its source was scattered among scattered jars and withered contents.

"Hell...?" Li Hao said.

This is where Goode attracted Li Badi's attention. Although he let go of the box, the **** thing has taken care of its own responsibility. For Li Huai, this is new. Whenever he found a reference for the configuration, the victim signed his own death sentence by solving the puzzle on the box.

"These things can't solve themselves, right?" Li Wei asked the air.

Several smaller bottles knocked over each other.

"I'm not sure about the answer now?" Li Huai said.

The ghost passed behind the book, knocking every three or four volumes to the floor.

"No matter what you want to tell me-"

Li Badi stopped and did not finish, because his question was being answered. The answer is yes. The box is indeed solving itself; a part of its internal anatomy slides into the field of view and lifts the box. The incoming parts are asymmetrical, causing the box to tilt to the side. Now, it has room to stimulate the next stage of its self-solving: its top surface separates in three directions, which releases distinguishable energy ripples with the subtle but unique smell of curd.

The box's movements accelerated, staring at it and watching the equipment running, Li Huai thought it was time to end the game. He raised his foot and put it on the box, intending to break it. He failed. It’s not because he’s not strong enough for the job, but because the box has a defense mechanism that he hadn’t thought about. When it’s less than an inch into the target, he somehow forces his feet to one side. Slide so that it slides around the target. The box is like a rubber sole on a wet rock. He tried again, and then failed again.

"Fuck," he said, sounding like that **** gaze was colder than he felt.

The only option left is to leave the place quickly before the fishermen who cast the glittering bait arrive. He stepped over the box, and the box continued to solve its own problems. Li Huai believed that it was a good sign, indicating that the door to **** had not been opened yet. But he never felt comforted by this thought, until the walls of the passage began to shake. The slight tremor rose within a few seconds to feel like a blow from a narrow space in all directions. Now, everything on the shelf that has not been knocked off by Goode's ghost has fallen: the rest of the books, large and small; the specimen jar; and all the other decorations in the collection of the dead.

The walls of the fixed shelves broke from floor to ceiling, and cold light penetrated the cracks. Li Huai knew from experience the nature of the lamp and the state it maintained. An accidental observer might call it blue, but miss all the nuances. This is the pale, sad and hopeless color of the plague.

Li Badi didn't need to rely on his stubborn itch, because Mai Dong's tactics became crazy, warning him with all kinds of convulsions and whipping, which was not a good place for him. He is accepting the suggestion of a tattoo to throw away everything cleaned on the shelf so that he can return to the exit. But when he did this, his curiosity got better, and for a moment he stopped to look at the expanding crack on the right shelf.

The gap in the wall was at least one and a half feet wide, and it was getting wider. He guessed that there would be some unforeseen horror in the passage from here to there. He only needs a glance to report to Mai Xia something even more juicy than he expected.

But to his surprise and slight disappointment, there was no demon in front of him. Through the constantly changing cracks in the wall, what he saw was a vast landscape. He scanned the other cracks quickly, but he only saw the same death, the cold light, and only heard the harsh wind, the wind blowing across the wilderness in front of him, lifting all kinds of garbage from the garbage dump. Ground-nothing special hell, only plastic bags, dirty paper and brown dust. It looks like a war zone.

He can now see the patterns of the old streets paved with barren cobblestones. In some places, the rubble of the old buildings may have been a problematic site. However, in the middle of the middle distance, from behind the slow gray smoke, the whole building was miraculously rescued from the bombing that razed everything else to the ground, but it still stood tall. He knew that they were beautiful in better times, which surprised him. They look like refugees from old European cities, and they are personable.

The gap in the wall has now opened to the width of a door, and Li Badi took a step or two without even realizing this. Not every day men glimpse the pit. He is determined to use this opportunity as much as possible. However, eager to understand the whole vision, he neglected to look down at his feet.

He was standing on a steep stone step, the bottom of which was wiped away by the yellow-gray fog. From the fog, a number appeared. It was a scarred man, with thin limbs, a pot in the abdomen, and the chest muscles covered by a layer of fat, similar to the crude fat in the chest. However, it was the man's head that attracted Li Badi's surprised eyes. Obviously, this man had been the subject of a vicious experiment, and the consequences were so serious that Li Badi was surprised to find that the patient was still alive.

From the top of the bone to the bottom of the neck, the person’s head is seen from the bone, cut from the middle of the nose, mouth and chin, leaving only the entire tongue, rolling the man’s mouth from the left side of the tongue. In order to prevent bones and muscles from returning to their natural positions, a thick rusty iron tooth was pressed into a finger, making it protrude into the gap in the jaw.

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