"Blessings to those who are out of control?"

Following Melissa out of the cell, Chargin asked in surprise.

In his occult knowledge, once the loss of control and mutation is complete, the end becomes irreversible, which is equivalent to the fact that after death, people can become vampires or resentful spirits, but they cannot be brought back to life and become living again.

No matter what the extraordinary becomes because of the loss of control, this ending is irreversible.

This is not only occult common sense, but also a truth that all normal people should know.

Melissa shrugged, of course she could hear the meaning in Charkin's tone.

For beings that have turned into monsters, this extraordinary power containing the type of 'divine power' and 'holy light' is tantamount to a purification skill with super lethality.

"It's not that simple. ”

"You'll know anyway, as a researcher, your blessings won't be limited to living creatures, but also some seals with 'living' properties. ”

In the black cell, Melissa walked in front, not caring at all about the runaways lying on the cage and making all kinds of howls, casually chatting with Chalkin.

In contrast, it was the first time that Chalkin had seen the runaways in his cell.

Some of them had turned into skinless living corpses, their skin was as red as bacon, and from the crack in the cage, they reached out and wanted to grab the two people in the corridor.

Some of them were fully humanoid octopuses, tentacles with suction cups sticking out of the cracks in the doors, fiddling with the locked cell doors.

There are also those who are out of control like clowns, opening their mouths and baring their teeth to let out a hahaha funny laugh.

Of course, it's not all monsters here.

There are also many slaves who have become extraordinary, huddled in front of the small window of the prison, silently watching the two people walking out.

Unfortunately, it was too dark for Chalkin to see Garin and the old dwarf Thorin.

The surrounding scene made Chalkin's lips a little dry.

He was secretly glad that he had seen the mutations of Piru and the Night Stalker before, otherwise if he was sent here directly, he was afraid that he would have a lot of nightmares even when he slept.

Forcibly calming down, Charkin couldn't help but ask:

"The nature of being alive? You mean, there are some seals that are alive, and have consciousness of their own?"

"It is not surprising that, from a occult point of view, the extraordinary properties within us are the embodiment and vehicle of our souls," Melissa said. ”

"You can think of it as an organ in our body. ”

Seeing the tentacles stretched out towards her, Melissa casually stretched out her hand, and countless precision mechanical parts, as if the transformers were assembling themselves, quickly assembled into a small hand-held chainsaw, the gear belt turned quickly, made a sound, and waved at will, instantly cutting off the tentacles of the octopus.

As if accustomed to this kind of thing, Melissa continued:

"Seals, for various reasons, are in the process of precipitation, or inadvertently merged into some items. ”

"Or it was deliberately made by someone with extraordinary properties. ”

"If you think of them as surgery, you take a part of a person and put it on top of an object. Naturally, it is not difficult to understand that the seal produces a certain consciousness. ”

Melissa's explanation made Chargin a little difficult to accept.

Although he knew that long ago in this world, humans had obtained 'magical creatures' such as dragons, demon wolves, and even vampires and elves by hunting or other means, and mixed with magical crystals or plant juices to obtain extraordinary abilities.

So much so that it has evolved to the present, and the extraordinary properties that are directly precipitated from the body of the extraordinary person are either processed or directly taken to obtain the corresponding ability.

But he never expected it.

Melissa went so far as to describe the extraordinary properties of this precipitation as containing a soul, and even when attached to an object, it can produce the property of 'living'.

This is indeed unacceptable.

Still, he knew that in the mythical world of the early years.

If the weak humans do not do this, a race without any mystical powers will become a delicious meal for other mythical creatures.

It's like humans want to eat meat, and animals want to eat people, it's just the result of nature's evolution.

Without much emotion, the two of them had come to the end of the black cell.

It was a gate that glowed faintly.

The style of the door is very unique, not the iron cage that Chalkin had used to be, but a relief of an old magician with his eyes closed and his beard flying.

The texture seems to be non-gold and stone, but it reveals a sense of simplicity and heaviness.

Leaning against the door, an old man with a snow-white beard was holding a small picture book, his legs on the desk and reading with relish through the faint light.

On his desk, there was a register and a quill pen.

Seeing the two coming, the old man put down the album and reached out to hold his glasses: "Boy, how did you sleep?"

Chargin took a closer look, and the person who spoke was none other than Chanisman's rotating officer, the old Tinny, who had promised to give him a lecture on the occult.

"Thank you for your concern, it's not bad. He touched his chest with one hand and bowed.

Chalkin said to Old Thiny.

The old man smiled kindly, and turned to Melissa, "Miss Melissa, you can promise me to send him back, I don't want him to be an extraordinary trait when he returns." ”

In the face of Old Tiny's joke, Melissa smiled and said:

"Don't worry, just a little research. ”

Old Tinny nodded, whistled softly, and the quill pen on the table snapped to his feet, and began to write in beautiful lines of writing in the notebook.

Chargin glanced at it and saw that it was the names of the two men, as well as the entry and exit records.

"Ritual magic!" Chalkin cried out inwardly, watching the quills finish the last line.

As the quill pen was finished, the Chanis Gate slowly turned, and the old mage on the door turned his head down, and his eyes slowly opened.

Melissa pulled Chalkin and walked briskly to the door, a suction force bursting from Chanisman's eyes.

In the next second, before Charkin could understand, the two had already appeared outside the door as if they were 'teleporting'.

Outside the door, it was not a slave cell as Charkin had imagined, but a brightly lit room.

The room was white and brightly lit.

On top of the huge metal wall, there is an incomparably clear transparent magic crystal like a bulletproof glass window.

"It's a lab!"

At this time, the two teleported in, and saw a tall woman with red hair, eyes as sharp as harrier eagles, and a pair of glasses perched on the bridge of her nose, sitting on a chair behind the glass window of the laboratory.

Chalkin only glanced at the woman, and the cold hair on his body stood up, of course he remembered this appearance clearly.

The red-haired woman sitting behind the chair on the test bench was none other than the extraordinary person who had made a feud with him two days ago and was blessed by him to almost die and become an idiot - the sirens Cavigne.

He immediately looked back at Melissa.

Melissa whispered, "I know what you're thinking, but it's not Cavigin, she's still in bed and hasn't woken up." ”

"The researcher in front of me is a high-ranking powerhouse with the seal 'Transfigurer' - Mitius. She does have a good relationship with Kavein, and I'll be watching you here, and if anything happens, I'll save you. ”

Hearing Melissa's words, Chargin was relieved a little.

By this time, Mitius had already pushed his glasses, pointed to the items on the table, and said:

"Researcher Jose Chalkin, your number is 279527, now please put on your white lab coat, bring your badge, and prepare for the test. ”