[Words from the real author: Please be patient to read this chapter.] There's going to be a very bold (or rather deadly) twist on the story here. 】

Necromantic Archives Part II, the story begins!

******

Where to start......

When I wrote the book 'The Necronomicon', I had no idea that it would be today. The clue was completely broken, and as the author of the 'Necronomiconomic Archive', I didn't even know what the story was behind it. It's devastating.

I remember half a year ago, a policeman named 'Yang Xiaoqi' told me about his real experience. I think this is a good subject, so after a little apocryphal fabrication, I wrote this book with the name 'Yang Xiaoqi' as the protagonist, and used the narrative technique of 'first person' to write this book - Necromantic Files!

But at this point, I had to stop. Because Yang Xiaoqi is gone, I have lost the person who gave me the clue to the story, and although I can write it with my own imagination later, I don't want to do that.

Because as an author, I have also been attracted by Yang Xiaoqi's story.

I'm going to find him and ask about the rest of the story.

Who is the ** female corpse in that coffin?

What happened to them?

What is the secret of 131?

What's going on with the Nine Great Families?

Where is the Ghost Mark Code now?

Is Yang Fei really dead?

Who is Qi Yuying?

Fans, everything is a mystery.

I know that to you, I'm the one who solves the puzzle. But for me, the author, Yang Xiaoqi is the creator of this story. And I'm just responsible for telling this story to readers and friends. In other words, I'm a story porter!

However, the work of 'carrying' cannot be done for the time being.

I know that as the author of a book, I am derelict in my duty. Even if there are a thousand reasons to quibble, I have to admit that at this point, I am a failed writer.

If Yang had told the story to another writer who was a little more famous, I think it would have turned out better.

In the past few days, I have been to Yang Xiaoqi's police station I don't know how many times, and the results I got were all 'on a special mission'.

I don't know what the special task is in the mouth of this police chief, he didn't tell me, and I didn't guess the direction.

I left my contact information and said that when Yang Xiaoqi came back, he must inform me first. Very urgent thing.

The director nodded nonchalantly, took my business card and threw it into the drawer without looking at it.

I was embarrassed for a while, and finally had to leave. No way, an unfamous author is not as attractive as a chicken in the eyes of ordinary people.

The editor of the bird named 'Simon' has been urging me for the past few days, saying that he will wait for my later manuscript to pass. I can only try to prevaricate him. That buddy could hear it, and finally killed me straight to my house.

For an author like me, who is not yet famous, the editor is a person who cannot afford to offend. Although he was short of money, he still invited him to the watchtower in the city to rub it.

At the wine table, he kept saying how the reverse of the 'Necromantic Files' was, and asked me to write it quickly, so as not to wait for the reader's enthusiasm to pass.

I said yes again and again, but in my heart I scolded that this grandson is really fucking dedicated. At the same time, I secretly complained, I asked the editor to give me a month, and after a month, I would definitely deliver 200,000 words. This is what I promised when I was in a hurry. After I finished speaking, I regretted it, in a month, will Yang Xiaoqi come back.

The handsome guy editor said with a happy face: "Okay." That's what I want. But don't blame me for not reminding you, if you don't have a manuscript in a month, the publisher will find a gunman instead. The manuscript fee in the future can be ....." He deliberately wanted to say and stopped.

I understood what he meant, and my face was very long, and I said to her, "You might as well find me if you are looking for the gunman." I won't hide it from you, I told you that this story was a person's personal experience, and you didn't believe it. I'm so late now that I'm late because the person who told me the story is gone, and I don't know what's going on. To be honest, I could have written it purely by imagination, but I didn't want to spoil the truth of the story. What do you say I should do. A month later, if you're looking for a gunman, then... Then I'll apply. ”。

Then, I told him everything I knew about the story. He smoked silently, squinting his eyes and listening intently.

After the time of three cigarettes, I finished everything.

When he heard me say this, he leaned back in the chair, snuffed out the cigarette butt in his hand, slanted his eyes at me, and asked, "Zhang Xin." Are you telling the truth? There really is a person named Yang Xiaoqi. All the stories you write are what he has experienced? ”。

I nodded, then shook my head and said, "Not everything is true, for the sake of readability, there is also a little apocryphal stuff in it, just a little, the purpose is to facilitate the story link, but most of it is real experience." Yang Xiaoqi told me personally. ”。

Simon asked Yang Xiaoqi where he had gone.

I said I didn't know, but the people at the police department said they were on a special mission. If you have a relationship, you can help inquire.

Simon looked at me with an unkind face, "What can I do?" However, I think that since this Yang Xiaoqi is a real person, then the places he said really exist compared to them, why don't you go and see it for yourself, maybe the things written will be better. ”。

I was startled when I heard him say this, and said, "Boss Simon, don't be kidding, I don't dare to go to that kind of place, it's either an ancient tomb or a desert, just my small body, I don't worry about whether I can write a story or not, but worry about whether I can live." I'm not going to be so stupid to put my life on the line for writing a book. Let's wait for Yang Xiaoqi's task to be completed. ”。

Seeing me say this, Ximen shook his head and said, "You can go to Li's Tuozi, isn't that place a village." According to your mind, when you go to that place and see the entity, there will definitely be other inspirations. You can write a biography of the Necronomicon based on what you have seen and heard, and the name will be 'Necronomicon Files: Ghost Stories in the Deserted Village'. It is shaped with Li Jiatuozi as the background. In this way, you don't have to worry about losing readers, and you can also wait for Yang Xiaoqi to come back while writing

When Yang Xiaoqi came back, you asked him what was going on next. To be honest, I also want to know who the ** female corpse in that coffin is. I also like the character of Feijing, I don't know what I am like. He took a sip of tea and continued, "Feijing's character can't be made up by you, right?" ”。

I nodded with a wry smile and said, "No, according to the judgment I got from Yang Xiaoqi's mouth, Feijing's character is similar to what I wrote in 'Necromancy'. There are several other important figures, Tibetan Mastiff Girl, Geng Yan, and Dragon Tooth, and I think there should be little difference between me and me. But.... However, the character of the beard is made up by me. I plucked something from Feijing's personality and imposed it on the beard. ”。

Simon nodded thoughtfully and said, "I said how did you see how the way the beard and the flying mirror spoke so similarly?" The principle is that you kid did it on purpose. What kind of person is the beard itself? ”。

"Timid and afraid, similar to the protagonist 'Yang Xiaoqi' in the book." I said.

"What about the protagonist Yang Xiaoqi, what is he like? Do you have the character to process him? Simon said curiously.

I shook my head and said, "Not at all."

It was past eleven o'clock at night when I came out of the watchtower, and I dropped Simon off at the hotel where he was going down the tower, and then drove my Santana home myself.

I've been thinking about Simon's proposal all the way, should I actually go to the village where the story begins in The Necrogenic Files? Maybe something different can come out. Simon also has some truth in what he said.

I thought about it and thought it was a really feasible idea. It's not life-threatening anyway.

Finally I made up my mind to go to that village. Even if it wasn't written as a biography, I think it would be a good environment to write about. In case Yang Xiaoqi doesn't come back for a month, I'll consider 'applying' for a job that is in demand for necromantic files. That place might allow me to write a more upscale 'gunslinger' script.

I didn't know until I went through the rest of the story. It was precisely because of this decision that I, the author of the 'Necromantic Archive', went directly to the story I wrote.

I rented a house in the suburbs, which is very old. There weren't even a street light at night, let alone a security guard.

I parked the car on the edge of the garbage pond and got out of the car to go home. When I passed the corner of the stairs, what I didn't expect was that suddenly a person rushed out of it, and it seemed that it was still a woman. I can't see what I look like when I wear a mask.

The two of us bumped into each other, and I heard her oop, her voice was very brittle, and she was definitely a beauty.

I also went out at night, I guess this should be a night worker. Then again, the people living in this building are a mixed bag, and there are all kinds of things. I know there are a couple of girls in that business, and I don't pay much attention to it. I said sorry and left in a hurry.

When I got home, I found an envelope in the crack of my door. It's one kind of aviation envelope, signed - a letter from a reader.

I was excited, this was the first time I had heard a letter from a reader, and I couldn't mention the joy in my heart. For an author like me, who is struggling at the bottom, this kind of encouragement is definitely better than gold and silver.

When I got to the living room, I sat on the couch and lit a cigarette and smoked it, trying to calm myself down before I went to read the letter carefully.

: Mr. Zhang Xin, hello! I'm a reader of the Necronomion Files, and I'm so drawn to the story you wrote, and although I'm scared at night, I can't help but want to see the rest of the story.

I've been in a hurry since you stopped serializing that day. I'd love to ask you why you didn't write it down, and why you suddenly disconnected from this story.

What does the ** woman in that coffin look like, why don't you depict it in words. Is it you who don't know? Or you haven't seen a ** woman, so you can't write it.

Hehe.

If it's the latter, then I can be your model.

At last

Please pay attention to your body and don't stay up too late. I guess you must be smoking, I hope you don't smoke in the future, it's not good for your health.

I look forward to the continuation of the Necromantic Archive.

The content of the letter is like this, the text is simple, and there is even a little hint of provocation in the middle.

I blushed, knowing that it was a girl who had sent the letter. I'm also twenty-seven years old this year, and it's the first time I've been told by a woman that I've never seen a woman's body when I'm so old.

The most thing is that she was right.

Although there was no one around, I was still embarrassed for a while, and my face turned red.

But when I came back to my senses, I suddenly realized something.

How did this person know I lived here?

I am confident that there is absolutely no one other than Simon who knows that I, a down-and-out author, live in this building, let alone my readers.

I quickly called Simon and asked if he had disclosed my place and identity, or told anyone. The result is absolutely nothing.

Simon lined up his chest and promised that he would never mention it to anyone.

Hearing such an answer, I felt even more uneasy, not knowing who this person was and how he knew me.

I thought about it for a long time and couldn't think of a reason. Simon asked me what was wrong, and I said it was okay and wanted to hang up.

"Wait a minute," Simon shouted on the other end of the phone.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"Have you decided to consider going to Li's house?" He asked.

"It's decided, I'll leave in a few days.".

"I'm going with you too. It's like a farmhouse. Simon said suddenly.

There was a kind of excitement in Simon's words, as if we were going on a trip.

"Okay. Pack up these days, let's go as soon as possible," I said.

It was already past twelve o'clock at night after talking to Simon on the phone, and when I returned to the bedroom to get ready for bed, I suddenly felt a feeling of being spied on in my heart.

It's a kind of mysterious sixth sense. I shuddered, froze, and began to look around quietly.

There wasn't anyone in the house, I can be sure of that. I observed the position of the bedroom window, where the bed curtain was not drawn, and the breeze kept blowing the white bed curtain to move, in stark contrast to the night outside.

White moonlight sprinkled on the opposite floor. Then in the moonlight, I noticed that in the building opposite my window, there was a strange one, and the bed curtain of that house had a figure printed on it.

You must know that it is close to one o'clock in the morning, and the windows above the entire building opposite are not bright at all, and the black hole looks like a ghost building.

And at this time, there was a figure standing behind one of the windows, how strange it was. I'm a supernatural author, but I don't believe in ghosts on the edge of this noisy city.

I'm sure that feeling of being peeping at is coming from behind that window, who is this? What do I have to see as a big man?

I quietly closed the curtains, turned off the lights, and made it look like I was ready to go to bed. But after turning off the lights, I just stretched out the quilt on the bed, and then quickly took out the binoculars on the bedside table, and hid in the corner of the window to look into the building.

Today's moonlight is bright, bright and somewhat scary. There was a room with no curtains in the opposite building, and I could see the situation inside under my glasses, and I could even see a couple doing it. It's hard work in the middle of the night.

I'll gather some of my beating heart and look for your window.

It was a woman's figure, also holding a telescope to look in my direction. The most absolutely incredible thing to me was that there was a slightly shorter shadow standing next to him.

I frowned and looked carefully for a long time, and suddenly a spirit suddenly turned out to be a dog squatting on the ground.