readx;? Samuel stopped the architect's self-talk and said a lot of things that didn't sound useful. But every word in it www.biquge.info every unrelated seemingly nonsense word is understood by the architect's subconscious into a special language with strict logic. Complex hints and anchors were buried in his consciousness step by step, and each suggestion that conflicted with his own will made the architect painfully embarrassed.

His eyes began to get bloodshot, and cold sweat oozed from his face. This process lasted for several hours, and the will of the architect was constantly fighting against Samuel's guidance, and this kind of war that took place in the mind was not destined to be preserved by memory. Samuel has rarely seen anyone resist like this, and it is generally not difficult for him to hypnotize a man to murder his wife.

"You're tired, you'd better take a break, Mr. Architect. Samuel concluded.

The architect had begun to resist Samuel's suggestion, and it took Samuel a lot of words to get him to sleep with his eyes closed.

When the architect regained consciousness, he felt like he had rested for a while. But his body told him it was a sleepless night. His voice was hoarse and difficult to make a sound, and he coughed like he would vomit blood. And his eyes were dry and sore, and he could barely see the sunlight coming in through the window, judging that it was already morning.

His pupils couldn't contract normally in the sunlight, and he felt unusually uncomfortable. I don't know if the pain coming from behind the eye socket was due to some kind of torture or because of severe fatigue.

Not accustomed to the sun, he twisted his body and found that his armpits were even more sore.

All signs indicate that he needs more sleep. But I couldn't sleep no matter what, not because I was uneasy, but simply because I couldn't sleep. He couldn't even close his eyes, his eyes couldn't be closed beyond the table. And his consciousness kept telling him that if he didn't rest for a while, he wouldn't be far from death.

The architect didn't understand what this meant, maybe the Black Death, it was going to keep people awake......

He staggered back into his interrogation chair, trying to remember what had happened, but only blank memories awaited him. He sat upright in his chair as if waiting for someone.

The jailer outside the door was also amazed at the scene, and when Samuel returned, he reported in astonishment, "Everything is as you say, sir!" He said this, as if the knowledge that had been the basis of his ideas had been turned upside down.

"As it should be. Samuel didn't look at the architect and said.

Squeak...... The unlocked wooden door was pushed open.

The architect seemed to remember something, and inexplicable fear began to flood his mind. The chill rising from his back made him shudder, but he was still puzzled by the person in front of him who terrified him, what was it that made him feel terrified?

"It is generally accepted that the soul is an impregnable fortress. It is a sacrosanct and inviolable creation of God, and it has unique characteristics like a god. Samuel sat down in the chair across from the architect, "But according to my research, the soul is nothing more than a slave to the body, not to the body." On the contrary, the flesh is the mother from which we produce this arrogant soul. Souls are arrogant and think they can control everything, but in the end they can't even control their bodies. Consciousness is like a rudimentary safe, where the most important souls are stored. Gently pluck the strings inside, and the soul becomes unrecognizable......"

Samuel poured a glass of water from the jug on the table, and it was strange that the architect had never thought to drink the water on the table, even though he was very thirsty.

"People go home on the familiar road, even if it's not the quickest way, and they don't ask why, and they follow the teachings of their elders, even if they have long forgotten why, but they don't ask why?" Samuel clicked unskillfully with the thumb of his left hand as he pulled the joints of his index and middle fingers. Samuel smiled strangely, "Now tell me, Mr. Architect." Do you agree that most of human life is a shoddy work of habits, traditions, and unconscious behavior......s? They are all comforting things for self-deception. Let's go back and think, what did you do this morning?"

The architect couldn't make a sound, because he had never thought to speak, but should have listened silently to the monologue of the man in front of him. When he looked back at this morning, the architect suddenly realized. He was not wearing heavy shackles, and the cell door was not locked. The door to freedom was hidden, and the idea of trying it didn't even appear. The water in the pot on the table never thought of taking a sip.

At this time, the architect seemed to have been knocked into a dull stick, and escaped into the boundless darkness. It is impossible to say that all his actions are arranged by the person in front of him, and his mind that thinks it is foolproof has become a machine that allows people to adjust it casually. In a sinister world full of fierce enemies, even your own mind is no longer safe......

"Now tell me, Mr. Architect. Samuel said, "Do you agree that most of human life is a shoddy work of habits, traditions, and unconscious behaviors?"

The architect didn't know what to say, but his mouth did, and he said, "I agree, Lord Samuel." ”

But deep in his heart, he just wanted to pick up this chair and smash it hard at the person in front of him who he had never seen. But the roaring and kicking became a small movement on the left hand. The thumb clicks the index and middle fingers.

Samuel had a satisfied look on his face, and when he lost confidence in his consciousness, he could move forward with his next plan.

"You may still be confused, but don't worry. Samuel said, "This feeling will pass, and it will be much easier after that." ”

The architect tried his best to distract himself, even if not to listen to the single word that popped out of his mouth. But Samuel's words are like a sword piercing the heart, and the only resistance that can be made is to continue to make inconspicuous small movements in his hands. His index finger was almost broken, and his joints didn't make a clicking sound, but the movement continued to intensify.

In addition to this, the architect's breathing is very smooth. It was as if the body had betrayed him and become Samuel's slave.

"Take it easy, Mr. Architect. Samuel said, "Do you want to keep your left hand? ”

There was a click, and it was the sound of the architect's left index finger snapping. As the voice came out, the movement of his hands also stopped.