The American Scripture

Under the leadership of the security, Zhen Fan took Annie in, gently placed it on the bed, and checked her body again. There was no major problem. He took out a hundred-dollar bill from his pocket and stuffed it with Security.

"Thank you, I don't know what to do without you?"

As a result, the security guard smiled and said: "If you have any more needs, you can call me at any time. You know where I work!"

"Of course, if there is a need, I will!" Zhen Fan nodded, "Goodbye, buddy!"

"Goodbye!" The security guard left with a grin. Obviously, this unexpected joy made him have a good impression of Zhen Fan.

Zhen Fan saw that Annie fell asleep peacefully, and began to look at her house. The bedroom is very simple, it seems that there is nothing to doubt, but when Zhen Fan first entered the door, he felt a trace of energy fluctuations, a cold breath rippling slightly in the room, if you don’t feel it carefully, you can even Ignore it.

Walking out of the room, Zhen Fan immediately felt where the cold breath came from. The painting in the living room, the portrait painting, the old top hat and the ridiculous dress. The figure in the painting is a middle-aged man with his eyes downcast, holding a cane in his hand and a gem in his hand. The ring sparkled.

Zhen Fan frowned and looked at the painting. He walked back and forth two steps, holding both hands on his chest, one hand spreading out two, resting on his chin, and murmured: "Where are you holy? ?"

With that, Zhen Fan stretched out his hand and slowly put his palm on the painting. Slowly feeling this seemingly ordinary painting, I muttered a mantra in my mouth silently, and then continuously permeated the painting along my palm.

It seems attractive. The canvas is constantly absorbing the Taoist spells pouring out of Zhen Fan’s hands, and then the whole picture suddenly seems to be inflated. The figure in the painting is like a freshly painted oil painting suddenly covered by water. It was splashed, and the entire portrait was distorted.

Suddenly the oil paint on the painting flowed down to the ground as if it was washed off, and quickly flowed down the wall to the floor, but it did not spread out or penetrate into the floor. On the contrary, when it reaches the floor, it keeps gathering, and slowly all the paint on the picture flows out. A human figure has been spread on the floor.

The shape of a middle-aged man with politeness, in a tuxedo and holding a cane in his hand, just like the person in the painting.

Yes, this is the person in the painting.

And the figure slowly spread out and grew bigger. When it becomes life-size. The thin oil paint became plump, as if a real person was slowly forming, and all of this happened under Zhen Fan's nose.

Zhen Fan didn't stop this process of change. Instead, he stepped back a few steps, sitting on the sofa and chair, looking at this changing middle-aged man who was dressed like a hundred years ago.

The oil paint on the ground soon slowly turned into a real person, and then stood in front of Zhen Fan, and the two people stared at each other motionlessly. No one said anything.

"I guess you didn't use oil paint on your face, otherwise it wouldn't be so white!" Zhen Fan couldn't help laughing. Then he smiled and buried his head between his legs. This posture was too exaggerated.

"Very funny?" It was like a vague voice rising from the bottom of the water. The oil-painted man actually spoke. His face was still pale, and the emerald green in his eyes seemed to be flowing with a frightening light.

"Yes, not only funny, but also pitiful, I pity you, a soul that has been sealed for a hundred years, do you know why I can let you out?" Zhen Fan suddenly raised his head and looked at him coldly.

"Because of that woman?" The oil paint man didn't seem to be stupid, and he immediately thought of the reason.

"You want to use Annie's soul to make up for your energy. When your energy is enough, you can break free from the painting, right?" Zhen Fan's tone became very cold, which is the same as what he just said. The laughter became a sharp contrast.

"So what?" The oil paint man snorted, "This is because she can't stand the temptation. Who can blame it?"

"Blame you!" Zhen Fan blurted out immediately.

The oil paint man was obviously choked, then he was angry, and finally laughed, but his laughter was dull, like a low thunder rolling by. His body was still dripping with oil.

"Really?" the oil paint man said in a contemptuous tone, "I can use her soul to make up for myself now, what can you do to me? Kill me? Or burn me?"

"What do you mean?" Zhen Fan smiled, "I know that you can't absorb the energy of Annie's soul temporarily, because her soul is no better than that of ordinary people, so you can't feel it when it's difficult? I can feel her. The soul is still fighting fiercely in your body. If you are not careful, you will be hurt by her backlash."

"How do you know?" The oil paint man finally changed his face.

Zhen Fan laughed again, pointing at this oil paint man and smiling wildly.

"What's so funny about this? I don't believe that she can't be subdued!" The oil paint man became a little mad, "It's just a slightly stronger soul than other souls, very ordinary!"

"Of course, you can slowly subdue her and transform into your own energy, and the energy of her soul is still very large. But... have I promised you such a long time?" Zhen Fan pointed at him and smiled.

"You? What are you? It's hard to protect yourself!" The oil-painted man's eyes suddenly flashed with emerald light, and he stared at Zhen Fan, the emerald green color actually made his eyes stained. It enveloped Zhen Fan's body and enveloped her roundly.

"It's interesting!" Zhen Fan didn't move, wrapped in the emerald green mist, and said with a smile, "It's kind of like Superman Clark's eyes, but his eyes are like a cutter. , Even the steel plate can be cut open, I think...you definitely don't have the ability to spit!"

"A mouthful of sputum is enough. You should worry about yourself!" The oil paint man grinned with a triumphant expression. Obviously he thought that Zhen Fan had been eaten.

"There is a question!" Zhen Fan actually made it like a reporter asked a question, and raised his hand.

The oil paint man looked at him in surprise. Then he sneered: "Well, because you are almost finished, you can say your question, I may answer you when I am happy!"

"Why does this painting look like a character painted a hundred years ago, but it is actually less than fifty years old? And...who is the person who painted you on it?"

"Want to know?" The oil paint man laughed, "I don't want to tell you until you die. I will forget you immediately, maybe the whole world will forget you, this is the best thing."

"That's not right!" Zhen Fan said again as if mumbling to himself. "This is not right. Paintings like yours are actually very common. They seem to be ancient paintings handed down by the family, but who can think of it only has a history of more than 50 years. And... I am also in your body. Can't feel the existence of a lot of soul energy..."

"Because I have turned them into my own use! You can't feel it naturally."

"No. No, no, this is not right. If you use it for yourself, you will never be trapped by this painting. Obviously... these souls are not used by yourself, so... There is only one possibility. You-this man with a full face... who doesn't even have paint, is just a tool of others!"

"Nonsense! It's impossible. They were indeed absorbed by me!" The oil paint man suddenly made a high pitch, although not very high, but the dull voice was like being smashed by a stone, harsh and unpleasant.

"You have a guilty conscience?" Zhen Fan shook his head and looked at him, sighing, "You are just a little guy. How many of you are disguised as oil paintings or sculptures or even mirrors? How many are there in Los Angeles?"

"You...who are you?" The oil paint man took a breath and made a sound that was worse than crying.

"I don't bother to deal with you. Fortunately, you haven't sent Annie's soul out. You just imprisoned her. Otherwise, you won't be able to make up for anything. Listen to my words, let her out, and we'll be fine. Speak!" Zhen Fan looked at this oil-painted man and shook his head, "You know that I have the ability to force you out of oil painting, and I have the ability to live in a purgatory environment."

"Are you blackmailing me?"

"Can you give it a try?" Zhen Fan suddenly stood up, and the green mist shrouded in him immediately dispersed, as if it had never appeared before. Such a change. Let the oil paint man stunned, this is his assassin, and occasionally encounter one or two souls that are difficult to control, as long as you use this, it will be all right.

But this man seemed to have not received any influence, and he broke his self-satisfied means so easily, which made him completely panic.

"What do you want to do?" The oil paint man took a step back in a panic, and the paint on his body was dripping.

"Nothing, give me Annie's soul!"

"No...no death!"

"Okay, go and die!" Zhen Fan suddenly grabbed his hand, and stretched one hand toward the oil paint man. In the oil paint man's hand, the palm of his hand was like a dark cloud coming over the sky. Shrouded myself ~www.wuxiaspot.com~ so I have nowhere to escape.

"Help—" the oil paint man made a dull voice, and then fell silent.

The oil paint man slowly turned into a pool of pungent paint, and a white blurry image suddenly emerged from the oil paint. After a surprised turn in the living room, she stopped and she saw Zhen Fan. , And then let out an exclamation.

"How did you come?"

"Because I don't come, you can't get out of the darkness!" Zhen Fan smiled, looking at the white and somewhat vague shadow, "You are fascinated by the painting, so... look at yourself, Is it floating in the air?"

Annie looked down and suddenly let out a scream.

"I... I... Am I dead?"

"No, you're just out of your body, but... if you don't return to your body, you will become an idiot, a walking dead, and you... you can only exist in this form Now!" Zhen Fan smiled, "But...with me here, don't be afraid of anything!" (To be continued...)