The night outside the window was like an overturned inkwell, and the deep darkness cast a layer of silence over everything.

Silvery-white moonlight peeked in from between the two curtains, gilding the room with a silvery glow.

In a corner where the moonlight does not shine, Enercillin sits on the bed with his knees crossed, and next to him sits the delicate articulated doll Loria.

With his eyes half-closed, Enacillrin hid in a corner where the moonlight could not shine and fell into memory.

Sometimes, people like to think about those things that are difficult to accept over and over again, to open the same wound over and over again, and to feel the pain in the heart over and over again.

For when a person grieves but does not cry, it may be because he is not grieving enough, or it may be because he is grieving too much.

At this time, if you repeatedly open the wound and feel the pain repeatedly, you may be able to cry out happily.

But Ernacillin was different, he had no desire to shed tears.

Because he remembered it over and over again, but he felt anger more than grief.

Angry at the behavior of the Mafi Asian and African people, angry at this kind of dehumanizing behavior has such a big market, angry at the extreme malice in the world.

Near the end of the afternoon day, Momo told him that Maphia's inhumane actions were actually gathering despair for the demon's followers. This is the information obtained by interrogating the demonic retinue brought back by the turkey.

Eneracillin was angry and sad and puzzled, those demonic followers were obviously human, but they had to do so many things to kill their compatriots, is this what they call their beliefs?

Anacyrin could not understand.

He remembered again the boy who shot himself and the poet who committed suicide by jumping off a building.

"I know ...... Touched his hand. He buried his head between his knees, he hated himself for not being fast enough, hating himself for not reacting any faster, it was a life, it was a living person, it was gone.

He just smiled softly, and with the simple, understated action of falling backwards, a living person brushed against him. The most painful thing is not that you don't have time to touch him, but that you can't catch him even though you have already touched him.

And the teenager who shot at the time, Ernacillin often wondered if he hadn't handed him the pistol at that time, he wouldn't have died like this?

For Ernacillin, it was too cruel to watch a life pass away. They didn't do anything wrong, they didn't hurt others, they even kept warming others, they should never be hurt like this, they felt such pain. But they were hurt.

Is it their fault?

It is the scumbags, the bastards, the ones who impose the crimes of the former on the victims, the sinister world without perfect systems, the demonic followers who have lost their humanity!

No victim is born to be a victim.

If you want to solve the problem at the root, you must address these needs. For example, demonic followers who need despair.

Click.

A slight writhing sound of joints sounded, and Ernacillin followed the sound, just in time to make eye contact with the delicate puppet next to him.

Ennacyrin was stunned for a moment, and then seemed to say to himself:

"It seems that the rubber bands that connect the joints are stretched too tightly. ”

Then he raised his hand and touched Loria's silky silver hair, "Good night, Mr. Loria." ”

......

In the dream space, everything is still so distorted and disorderly. The difference is that today's space has a simple and wide, finely patterned but chaotic silver and white throne.

On the large throne, a male figure with dark black shoulder-length hair sat casually, one hand resting on the armrest to support his chin, and the other holding an egg-sized, very transparent colored crystal. He was looking at the crystal through the illusory light of the dream space. He wore a floor-sweeping robe with gold stripes on a black background, and if you looked closely, you would see that the intricate patterns were made up of tiny, obscure runes, bare wrists and necks with intricate ornaments with gold patterns on a black background, and a golden mask covering the upper half of the face.

"Huh, here you are?" he casually changed his position, and lazily watched as he came in, feeling sluggish, because he was frightened by the sight of one more person in the space, he jumped backwards like a Siamese cat, knocking down a dream creature that caused a large number of dream creatures to fall like dominoes, and the corners of his mouth curled with a wicked amusement.

"Uh, sorry, sorry. Ernacillin quickly turned and apologized to the fallen large group of dream creatures, picked up the nearby dream creatures, and then heard them muttering a long list of unintelligible words as they moved.

Startled, Eneracillin leapt backwards with great pomp, knocking down a large number of Dream Dwellers, but he immediately apologized. As a result, the residents of the dream realm could only curse and leave. ”

Mystically magnetic, as if from ancient times, the voice of the majestic and dignified man on the throne, dressed luxuriously and with a sense of distance, acts as a narrator in extreme boredom.

“...... Sir?" Ernacillin was a little helpless, feeling that the image of the gentleman that had taken three years to build up in his heart had completely collapsed.

"Hmm. The gentleman returned to his original lazy and casual appearance, "Although you only constructed half of the dream space at that time, the effect was not bad. "At least he can make consciousness manifest in this space now.

"This spatial construction spirit ......," Ernacillin glanced at the distorted and disorderly environment around him, "although it is powerful, it is too weird." He said.

When he was linked to Chico's spirit body, he was really frightened by the other party's state.

It's a debilitating existence to look at, and the horror is so distorted that it can't be described in words.

"I remember there was a saying. The gentleman looked at Enacillicillin thoughtfully: "Man's dreams are projections of the mind. ”

"Uh...... "So, the reason why the dream space is so distorted and disorderly is because my psychology is too distorted??

Don't, right?

Don't do that, right?

The corners of Enaciillin's mouth twitched slightly, and he turned his head to look at the shattered sky and chaotic earth, anyway, he was normal.

However, this statement is not necessarily true. The gentleman spread his hands paralyzed, "for no one has ever been able to produce evidence of this." ”

Oh, so he's not crazy and he's not mentally twisted, right?

"Okay, okay, let's go and learn about the dream space if it's okay. The gentleman waved his hand and added, "If there is anything you don't understand, just ask me." ”

Enacylin, who turned around and was just about to leave, suddenly remembered something, and said thoughtfully, "Uh...... Actually, sir, I have always wanted to ask, why do you teach me so much without expecting anything in return?"

He'd wanted to ask this question for a long time, but he hadn't had a chance to say it. After all, it was inconceivable that such a powerful, mysterious, almost omniscient being as powerful as Mr. would choose to live in his dreams.

"Well—how do you know I'm teaching you without expecting anything in return?" said the gentleman, propping his chin on one hand, casually, "what I need is something you don't care so much about, and teaching you is just a reward." ”

"Because what you don't need is valuable to me, you have the illusion that I teach you without expecting anything in return. ”

"As for my purpose, you need to worry too much. If you're like me, when your body has been asleep for an unknown number of years, but your conscious body has been awake, you'll know that as long as you have someone to talk to you, as long as you can know what the outside world is like, and as long as you can see important people through the eyes of others, then nothing matters. He drew a special arc.

Ernacillin blinked, he chose to believe the gentleman's words. If he had any ill intentions, he would never have waited so patiently for three years - you know, he would never let him gather any information or rush him into the core of the association.

"So, I think we're friends too, right? May I ask your name?" Although he was reluctant to admit it, Enacillin had known each other for more than three years and didn't know each other's names, which made him wonder if Mr.'s name could be something taboo that could not be said.

"It's not that you can't say it, it's just that you don't want to read it out casually outside, and you'll attract a few little guards. He accentuated the pronunciation of the word "little," "My name was given to an important person, and that person called me - Minno." ”

Minno Ernacillin didn't quite understand, it just felt like a patchwork of words, different from the usual pronunciation.

"Isn't that strange?" sir...... No, Mr. Mingnuo rarely evokes a gentle and nostalgic arc, "I heard that it is an oriental language, and it has a very important meaning. Ernacillic tasted nostalgia and helplessness in his words.

If I can see someone important through my eyes, why not go to that person?

Enacyrin didn't ask, after all, he and Minno were not familiar enough to this extent, and besides, it was not a gentleman's duty to ask about this kind of privacy so rudely.

"Alright, it's time for you to practice your construction technique, if you don't understand anything, you can ask me. Well, don't worry or be polite, after all, you're strong, so I can use the entity to see the important people with my own eyes. ”

............

In the Renagi family's house, the warm red light of the candles illuminated a large room, and even the sweet and lovely young lady on the rocking chair was coated with a layer of warm light.

"Minno?" Lynn silently pronounced the strange-sounding word, holding a quaint book in her hand—it was specially marked on the book, and it was not to be called by its name.

"What a strange pronunciation. Lin sighed, the pronunciation of this word is more like the language of the ancient East.

She yawned, put down her spread book, and slipped into the comfort of her bed.

On the table, the quaint book was blown over by the wind from nowhere, and the elegant and beautiful text on it recorded a conspicuous passage:

"If these two words are expressed in the language of the ancient oriental, then there may be a meaning. ”

"Remember the promise. ”

............