Fu Jin woke up.

He subconsciously opened his phone and glanced at the time.

8:57 a.m.

After realizing this time and his own action, he was stunned, and his heartbeat accelerated a little.

Fu Da also woke up and circled around him.

Fu Jin pursed his lips, he took a few seconds to calm himself completely, and slowly turned his face sideways to look at the balcony on the side.

The balcony is paved with white tiles, and a hint of blue moonlight shines on the balcony, and the black crow feathers slowly fall from the sky in the wind, like a fairy tale beauty.

Fu Jin began to feel a tingling in his scalp.

Fu Da had stopped circling in circles, staring out the window, barking wildly.

Fu Jin picked it up and put the white puppy in the dog cage.

Maybe this cage could save it, he thought.

Thousands of crows crashed into the glass in front of Fu Jin, and bright red blood splattered, staining the entire glass.

The cracks in the glass widened slightly, and Fu Jin carried the dog cage from this room to the musical instrument room next door.

... Just like him in his dreams.

0

The soundproofing of the instrument room is very good.

The room was so quiet that he could hear the sound of his heartbeat, and Fu Jin put down Fu Da first.

Fu Da stayed in the cage, his eyes fixed on the heavy wooden door of the instrument room, and a low, threatening sound came from his throat in agitation.

Fu Jin couldn't help but gasp in a low voice and looked around.

If it weren't for the fact that there wasn't anything extra in the instrument room, he actually wanted to push a table to block the door.

Fu Jin grimaced and took out the only weapon he had time to bring in—a Swiss knife.

In the face of dense crows, this knife is actually useless.

Of course Fu Jin knew, but there were no other weapons to use in his new home at the moment.

And now, he can't go out either.

"Boom."

"Boom."

"Boom."

There was a dull knock on the door, at first sporadically, but soon it was as dense as raindrops.

"Knock knock knock—"

This is the seventh floor. Fu Jin turned to look at the window the size of the escape window behind him, and re-examined the current situation.

Even if there are thousands, in the case of this door, the crow will not be able to knock open.

But...

"Knock, knock, click—" The black beak poked in, and then reached back.

The thing outside seemed to change angles, and it peeked in through the hole it pecked out of itself.

The Swiss knife in Fu Jin's hand stabbed straight out along the gap.

It was also at this moment that the sound of a heavy, heavy object falling from outside the door was heard.

Fu Jin's knife pierced the thing in the eye, but he didn't hear any sharp shouts.

The knocking on the door stopped.

Fu Jin didn't mean to open the door immediately, he looked at the situation outside from a distance from the defect in the door.

... But his door was broken.

He saw that the door panel was split in two, half of which hung on the door frame, and the other half fell down, and it happened to stop on the tip of his toes.

A black-robed man stood in the doorway looking at him, holding a giant scythe in his hand.

It should be killed.

- Hell knows how this guy split the door with a scythe on the inside.

The black-robed man wore a silver mask that covered the upper half of his face, revealing only his chin and lips.

Blood flowed from outside the room to Fu Jin's feet, and he lowered his eyes slightly and looked out of the room. Behind the black-robed man, a huge headless bird corpse was lying on the floor.

As if he was a little displeased, the black-robed man raised his hand and pointed his scythe at Fu Jin, "Since the inspiration is so strong, why don't you set up an enchantment in the house?"

It was a girl's voice, which sounded very young, with a little impatience and cold questioning.

"It's good to destroy people's houses for any other purpose."

"..."Fu Jin looked at her and sighed slightly, he felt the need to defend himself, "What is the inspiration?"

Fu Jin looked at her directly, and there was no trace of joke or weakness in his eyes.

She froze, as if she had forgotten her words for a moment.

...

"There are many types of inspiration, but the most common is the perception of danger, which is the primary sixth sense. It usually happens to oneself or to a friend, relative, or lover who is very close to and cares about." After confirming that the person in front of her was completely unaware of the inspiration, she took a moment to calm down.

"It's like on the morning of the day when her husband is about to have a car accident, and the wife sees her husband going out, and suddenly feels panicked and uneasy for unknown reasons."

"Or the yin-yang eyes, which are commonly known as yin and yang eyes, can see creatures from the spirit world, such as ghosts."

"This kind of inspiration is very common and has no nutrients, although there will be demons with them, but it generally does not affect the normal life of the present world."

"But some people are very inspired. Mind reading, foreknowledge, mind communication, empathy, perception, exorcism, exorcism, curses, and even distorting parts of reality to construct the world you want."

"As long as the inspiration is strong enough, the wish to come true is not necessarily fake." At this point, she paused for a moment.

"I won't do any of that." Fu Jin replied.

Her tone was still cold, "But you look delicious."

Fu Jin glanced at the big scythe standing against the table, smiled, made the last effort for his own chases, and opened his mouth with a serious and tactful face: "I'm sorry, I'm actually gay."

"Yes." She didn't get to his point, and after a brief interruption, she immediately pulled the topic back to the point, "You don't know anything?"

Fu Jin was silent for a moment, "Five minutes before those things came, I had a prophetic dream, I dreamed that I was attacked by them, right here, exactly the same scene, but without you." He subconsciously tapped his knuckles on the wooden tabletop, "Does this count?"

"So, in the world's chain of cause and effect, you are condemned to death." She said, looking up at him, "Actually, if this were in reality, you'd be dead."

"Why are you so sure?" Fu Jin asked.

She just said, "I'm the grave one, breaking out of the chain of cause and effect, knowing the world you don't know."

Fu Jin just showed a look that seemed to be smiling but not smiling.

In fact, everyone can only see the world as they see it.

... Including grave holders.

"I shouldn't have saved you, you're the one you want in the spirit world." She said.

"I don't believe in fate." Fu Jin said. Speaking of which, he knew almost everything he wanted to know.

"Everything you told me was magical, almost from another world." He smiled slightly, politely distant, "But I'm still living in reality, and I'll live like this in the future."

She lowered her head, and a strand of silver hair fell out of her hood.

"Fu Jin, male, twenty-four years old, professional as an online novelist, serialized Western fantasy novels in Fengyun six years ago, which became popular. Two years ago, I suddenly closed my pen, and now I have no income and live purely on my parents." She began to speak suddenly, emotionlessly.

"I can find very, very many of the same background templates in this world."

"You're nothing special compared to others, and you're not the protagonist of the story."

"Everyone in the world is the same, just alive."

She spoke word by word, speaking clearly, as if with a hint of exhortation.

... It's nonsense.

Fu Jin laughed, without warning, he laughed wildly.

She stood there looking at him, seemingly expressionless, but her fingertips jumped slightly.

"I never felt like I was special." Fu Jin said, his tone was extremely calm, "As you said, I am just an ordinary person, one of many ordinary people."

He looked at her coldly, his eyes extremely arrogant.

"But so what?"