The dark clouds obscured the figure of the bright moon, outlining the silver-gray bands of light on the edges, and the night was so heavy that it exuded an oppressive dead silence.

The gray-black rocks towered over the edge of the shore like a raised stone monument, and the sharp stone edges cut the waves to pieces, and the black waves shattered into thousands of foams, and then dissipated into the black crevices.

The man was lying on the edge of the boat, one hand hanging into the sea, feeling the bone-chilling cold, in the center of the storm.

Everything swayed slightly with the swelling of the waves, as if it were a mother's cradle, and she sang in a low voice, trying to appease the man's anger and make him sleep here forever.

It seems like it doesn't end that way either......

The man thought so.

Blood spilled from the wound, and the heart beat weakly until it slowly calmed down, and the gray-blue eyes reflected the burning night, and finally engraved everything into the depths of memory.

The waves continued to shake, violently but slowly, like undulating beasts, until they devoured everything on the surface of the sea.

So he was dragged into the sea, and fell, and fell, and slammed into the deep depths of the sea, and felt a sharp pain that was heart-rending.

......

Lorenzo opened his eyes, not drowsy, and no time to appreciate what the ceiling was like this time, curled up in a ball on the soft bed, as if he had fallen from a height to the ground, but the pain of the impact came from the back of his mind.

He clutched his head and gritted his teeth, trying not to let out any painful wails.

This state lasted for a long time, and it seemed that the pain had subsided, and Lorenzo slowly stretched out his body and took a deep breath.

With his head tilted to one side and a glimmer of light falling through the window, it was already dawn, but Lorenzo could still smell the damp freshness of the rain in the air, and the ticking sounds, and it seemed that the rain had not stopped.

It was a strange dream.

It was a long time before Lorenzo thought about it.

There will always be some strange sequelae of fighting demons, such as some mental illness, or physical pain, usually speaking, Lorenzo doesn't care about those, after all, he is a demon hunter, and his vitality is too tenacious, so he doesn't care about many symptoms.

But at this time, Lorenzo noticed the changes in himself, such as a headache, long before he fought Lawrence, Lorenzo had such symptoms, this kind of headache from time to time, if you dig deeper, it all seems to have happened when Lorenzo killed the burning demon.

The flaming demon...... Lorenzo remembered it as Horner.

Lorenzo killed many demons, too many to count, but Horner was what he always remembered, not how special he was, but that Lorenzo killed him in the [gap] at that time.

There are many mysteries about the gap, but on that occasion Lorenzo found another way to kill the demon completely, destroying the poor man from the gap, and his entity died with it, and in that chaotic death, Lorenzo also got some memories of Horner, they were intertwined, and then Lorenzo began to have a headache.

It all seemed to have started then, and that fight in the [gap] sparked something that Lorenzo didn't yet know.

He pondered this until Hercule knocked on the door.

"Good morning. ”

Hercule was dressed in brown pajamas and had the big chinchille in his arms.

"Good morning. Lorenzo nodded slightly.

"How are you feeling today, are you feeling better? If you're feeling better, let's get started." ”

Hercule looked at Lorenzo's face, although it was still ugly, but it was much better than yesterday, the happy detective of the past was gone, and now he felt a lot more reliable than before.

"The memory palace, huh. Lorenzo asked.

"Of course, but I'm not a hypnotist, and I've taught you how to find the lost memories on your own...... How have you learned?" asked Hercule.

There was still some time last night, and before going to bed, Hercule told Lorenzo about the basic way to build the memory palace, ordinary people may need a long time to learn, and they may not learn Hercule's level, but Lorenzo is different, this guy is never short of surprises.

"It's okay, just a general understanding, and haven't started trying yet. Lorenzo said.

Hercule was looking forward to what Lorenzo could do next, and he motioned for Lorenzo to come over, then turned to lead the way.

"Memory Palace...... In the end, this ability is a bit like a shallow hypnosis of oneself, through the constant hint of memory, so that this extraordinary memory becomes an instinct, just like a skilled swordsman, they don't need to think about how to meet the enemy in wartime, just follow the body's reaction, and the instinctive warning and the skills honed over the years will help them kill the enemy.

And the memory palace itself does not refer to a palace specifically. Hercule said.

"It's just a metaphor, a symbol, a place that we can instinctively remember, no matter what the situation. ”

"And what is your 'palace'?" asked Lorenzo curiously.

Hercule's pace faltered, then he turned his head, looked at Lorenzo meaningfully, and then said.

"Guess what, aren't you a detective?"

There's nothing to guess about, Lorenzo said directly.

"The shipwreck of you. ”

"Almost. ”

Hercule didn't continue, but moved on to the memory palace again.

"It's a very abstract concept, after all, it exists in our minds, not some concrete object, just like you said about the curse of knowledge, no matter how I describe it to you, you can't think of my 'palace'. ”

As he spoke, he pushed open a secret door, which was so secret, with brass hangings and coats that Lorenzo didn't realize there was a door if Hercule hadn't pushed it open.

"Come on. ”

Hercule walked directly into the secret room, the secret room was not big, it was not even a secret room, and the space was narrow enough for only two people to sit.

Lorenzo sat down in one of the chairs, there was no light in the chamber, and in the darkness Hercule sat across from him, with only a low table between them.

"What is this going to do?" asked Lorenzo.

"Memory Palace...... I usually call this the meditation room. ”

Hercule said, and introduced.

"Didn't I say that? The memory palace is actually equivalent to a self-hypnosis, of course, the hypnotic environment should not be too noisy, the environment here is just right. ”

Indeed, when the door to the chamber closed, all sounds were cut off, and only the sound of the heartbeats of the two was silent.

"But that's only for first-time newcomers like you, and I don't need this environment unless I need to carefully inspect the palace and look for clues. Hercule said.

"So let's talk about how to build a memory palace......"

"I know, you said it yesterday. ”

Lorenzo interrupted Hercule's teaching, and Lorenzo was actually very smart, but he didn't bother to use it, and he wouldn't get serious until the enemy was a demon.

"Use space and symbolism and memory, right? ”

Lorenzo thought back to what Hercule had told him yesterday and tried little by little.

"That's right, take those memories as some symbol, and put those symbols in your palace in a regular way. ”

Hercule said as he took something out of the darkness and set it on fire.

It was a small incense stick, with a faint white smoke coming out of it, and in the blink of an eye, it filled the secret room.

The taste was somewhat familiar, and Lorenzo couldn't help but ask.

"It's ...... Eggplant?"

"Huh, you know that, too?"

Hercule was surprised, "It's not a native crop, and it's easy to get confused with mandrake, I thought no one knew about it." ”

"Yes...... It is hallucinal. Lorenzo said.

For a long time, the great detective solved the case by rolling a cigarette with this thing, and Lorenzo knew all too well what it did.

"Yes, I've always used this thing to help me meditate into the memory palace," said Hercule, "well, it's nothing, anyway, just use it." ”

He didn't care about any of that, and continued.

"Like I said, frame your palace in your head, and then look for it, look for those lost books, those lost memories.

Like falling asleep, Lorenzo, let yourself relax...... But don't fall asleep!

Yes, that's it, close your eyes, go to the bottom of your thoughts, to the place that belongs only to you......"

Lorenzo leaned back in his chair completely, his whole body completely relaxed.

"Continue down to the palace......"

Hercule's voice was soft, getting softer and softer, until it could no longer be felt.

The smoke of the ashweed was inhaled into his lungs and into his bloodstream, and they rushed through his body, dragging his thoughts into the deepest depths, and Lorenzo could feel his body gradually lighter, until it became heavy again and descended.

It took an unknown amount of time for his feet to hang in the air, and finally he finally reached the bottom, and he stood firmly in the darkness, slowly opening his eyes.

"This ...... Is this my palace?"

Lorenzo looked at the only building in front of him, and he didn't think about it deliberately, but completely instinctively imagined the place that he subconsciously knew and loved the most.

"Sure enough, it's here. ”

Lorenzo thought that he would never see it again, or that it was once glorious, and Lorenzo thought that it was buried in the long history of the Church, but it was still there, living in Lorenzo's memory.

The magnificent palace was built in the middle of a huge natural cave, with mottled stone walls and intricate patterns that seemed to be carved out of the rock until the end of the view, and the stone bricks rose from Lorenzo's feet and led him into the palace.

The palace had no gates, or rather, the great dome was its door, with tall stone statues towering on either side, wielding swords and fierce eyes.

There was a solemn sound of kagura, and from inside the palace, there was a burning light, a sonorous iron roar, and the shouts of warriors, as if an army was fighting and fighting in it.

Lorenzo strode forward, stepping into it, and after many years he was back here, the place that had once been considered a dwelling, only in his memory, the glorious temple of scarcity.