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disengage

Marceau smiled disapprovingly and let go of my face.

"As I said, I'm a psychologist and don't work." She magically took out a business card from the hood and stuffed it into my pocket, "I want to repay you, there is no problem with money and sex, you can contact the above number if you need it, I am always waiting, I hope you don't shirk, you will get a wonderful experience that most men can't get." Next, there are a few questions, if you know, please sue me. ”

"What's the problem?" I was a little dazzled by her onslaught.

"What is this place? How did I get here? Are you from here? She stared at me sternly as if her face had changed.

I'm not surprised that anyone with a modicum of thinking skills would ask these three questions, but only the last one I was able to answer.

"I'm not from here." I confessed to her, "As for the first two questions, I haven't figured it out either, but there are some speculations, would you like to hear them?" ”

She didn't answer immediately, still staring into my eyes, and I couldn't see any thoughts in her face and eyes. Although Marceau's appearance in the previous desperate situation was no different from most people, she quickly got rid of that negative state and displayed an unusual psychological element. I think she is a smart and excellent person, just like Tomie and Jung, and I clearly feel from them that this kind of intelligence and excellence are fundamentally different from Bach.

If I were to describe it in terms of my seventeen years of student experience, then Marceau, Tomie and Jung were "excellent students" and Bach was "good students".

"I'd love to." Marceau's mouth showed a smile on his lips, giving me a sense of trust that didn't shy away.

"First of all, I can tell you that I entered this place for the second time, and the first time was this morning." I said, "And every time I come in, it's in the antechamber." ”

Next, I didn't hide anything, and I gave a general account of what happened to me and what I guessed. Marceau had a look of surprise on her face, but she didn't show any suspicion. She didn't interrupt my explanation, only nodded thoughtfully after the explanation, as if she was there, and filled my heart with a sense of accomplishment. I know it's her professional skills, not how well I tell it.

The more I got to know her, the more I felt that she was too self-deprecating in her description of her profession. According to her description, although it is not an exaggeration to say that she is a high-level woman, she is actually more inclined to be a listener and a psychiatrist, and sex is just an auxiliary skill between the two.

She doesn't have many customers, but every one of them is in a high position, and it's easy for these people to satisfy their sexual needs. Beauty, figure, and sexual skills may be indispensable for her profession, but the other party will spend a lot of money on her, not because of such things.

Marceau has no hesitation in saying that she is hired for $10,000 an hour, and that her employer will pay for her full amount of insurance, travel expenses, fashion jewelry, real estate, and other non-cash wealth, in addition to various benefits, connections, and information. All things combined, she's richer than most entrepreneurs.

What an amazing woman.

"It's amazing, you're such a good kid." Marceau sighed.

"I'm a man." I emphasized.

"Well, cute and respectable little man." Marceau laughed, paused, and said, "What a goddamn place, how are we going to get out?" Do you have to die once? ”

"No, don't choose to die," I firmly dismissed her idea, "This mental hospital does not exist in reality, it has been burned down in the fire ten years ago. Although it feels and real, I guess it was only mentally coming to this place. Marceau, you should know how severe the effect of death on the spiritual and psychological level can be. ”

Although it seems that the first time I returned to reality after death, there are quite a lot of doubts about it afterwards, after I was overwhelmed by bugs, was I really dead? I didn't feel like I was dying, or rather, I didn't subconsciously think I was dead. I can do this because there is a river and silk of the storage zài, the resistance to death is stronger than most of the demon pattern messengers, if ordinary people were in the situation at that time, it is likely that they will really die.

"Are you religious? Little Crow. Marceau asked.

"Do you mean whether or not you believe in the existence of God?" I said, "I didn't believe it before, but now I do." "Because although there are a lot of traces of surreal technology in the qiē that I have experienced, there is also a mysterious power that transcends technology.

"In other words, do you think that the supernatural power of the situation we are in now?"

"No...... That's not certain. However, the current state of affairs we are encountering may not be the power of demons and monsters. "I was searching mentally for the right words, and to explain the complexity of my thoughts, English was not my first language, and I felt the barrenness of the vocabulary I mastered.

"Actually, I've been experiencing a few things during my recent travels...... "I'm reminded of the Doomsday technology of the Governing Bureau and the strange altar in the Advent Loop campaign. Although they express supernatural powers, they can also be seen as the effect of surreal technology. At least, although I feel that there is some kind of supernatural power, there is no sense of "miracle" at all, whether it is my own speculation or my personal feelings.

It's the same here, it seems to be a supernatural unfolding, but I always feel that technology can be done at a certain level. At least, it doesn't go beyond the Doomsday Technology of the Domination.

"What's the matter?" Marceau looked interested.

"That's a long story." I smiled and didn't explain, it was a long, long story. Although the Security Bureau does not prohibit ordinary people from knowing about things related to the Doomsday Vision, it also does not encourage it, for fear of causing **.

"As for why we are the only ones in this place, maybe it's because our brainwaves are compatible." I said half-jokingly.

Although it is only the two of us at the moment, I think that with the establishment of the local branch of the Security Service as a signal, this event will unfold more quickly. Perhaps soon, more people will appear in this place, and reality will change beyond imagination. This seems to be accidental, but in fact it is inevitable, and the fuse was laid ten years ago.

"You've surprised me again, and I'm sure our cooperation will go smoothly." Marceau didn't press on, she said, "Because I don't think it's a god or a demon's power either." I think the key to getting out is the boy you see at the end. Now, we have to figure out the identity and relationship of the girl and the boy. Come on, let's get those bugs gone, what the hell has happened to the place I came in. ”

As I expected, Marceau was excellent on a psychological and operational level, and she quickly put aside the aftermath of the catastrophe, grasped the center of the problem at the first time, determined the relationship between us, and unwittingly took over the leadership. It was only after she said these words that I realized that her vigilance and control methods were also different from Tomie and Jung, perhaps because of their personalities and professions, but they were very similar in that they did not make people feel offended, but rather made people feel recognized and trusted.

I don't care who is in charge. Look more, think more, listen more, and you will find that the hidden information under the other person's actions is like deciphering layers of combination locks, which is a great pleasure for me.

Marceau appeared in the room that was on fire when she entered, and the space and furnishings of the room felt like a combination of a pathology room and an operating room.

Standing outside the door, you can see the huge operating table, surrounded by various surgical instruments, and the metal scaffold remains with dark reddish-brown spots, which look like it has been rusted after being soaked in too much blood. Before entering the room, you can smell the stench mixed with the smell of rust.

Only the shadowless lights directly above the operating table are still on, but several of the bulbs are broken, so the shadows of the operating table and related instruments are very clear. You don't need to look too closely to see the old belt buckles on the countertop, and the traces of the patient's struggle are very clear. The model of the surgical instruments is also very old, and it exudes a cold smell under the light of the forest, which makes people ooze cold sweat under their armpits.

I seem to be able to see something like that. A patient who was brought to the operating table in a conscious state, he struggled and let out desperate screams, but when he looked up, he saw only a group of people in white coats standing quietly around, wearing masks, so that he could only see a pair of calm and indifferent eyes.

One of them walked out, and someone else put gloves on him. He began to use his instruments to direct the body. Skull, chest, limbs...... Join others to scrutinize and ponder every structure and texture. The patient's voice was hoarse from pain, and finally he was dying, and all that was left in his eyes was a white patch, which was the light overhead. Blood flowed everywhere, along the countertops and brackets to the ground, and the white-robed man stepped on it unconsciously, leaving one hideous footprint after another.

All of them were pale and dead, except for the sound that still lingered on the rusty blades and drill bits.

Yes, I seem to hear it, and the voices are still wafting around the room, recounting the nightmares.

It wasn't the first time Marceau had seen the room, but she was nailed to the ground like a puppet. I gave her a push, but before she could say anything, she had jumped away like a frightened rabbit and almost tripped her feet together. She saw that it was me, and did not cry out, but her face was pale, as if she was seriously ill.

"What's wrong?" I stepped forward and grabbed her hand, which she held tightly as if to crush my bones, and it took a moment to let go.

Marceau's face finally turned bloody, and she exhaled deeply, as if she was about to vomit something out of her chest.

"I ...... I do not know. What's going on? When I first arrived, it wasn't like this. She muttered.

I stared at her.

"I can't describe it, but in short, it hasn't changed at all, but it feels very ordinary." She paused and said.

"Where was the bloodstain?"

"Yes, and it doesn't look scary at all." "I've seen something like that at a customer's place, corpses, blood, entrails, a criminal record that looks so cruel, it's not the same as it feels here," Marceau said. ”

The furnishings haven't changed at all, which is an anomaly. I saw with my own eyes that a raging fire was burning inside, and it seems that the fire was also a psychological reflection?

Marceau rested for a while, and quickly picked himself up again. We looked around other places, and there was a blackboard-like glass on the wall on the right-hand side, with a hazy purple light shining from the inside, and a few ** photos were pasted on it. I took it off and took a closer look, the date of the shooting was 10 years ago, the patient's name was Castina, it seemed to be a woman, I don't know what it looked like. I had very little medical knowledge, other than that she seemed to have some kind of lesion in her brain.

"Look there," Marceau suddenly cried.

I looked in the direction of her finger and there was a 113 notch on the wall, as well as another graffiti. A bald woman in a robe is tied to a cross and stares in horror at the head of a giant monster. This monster looks exactly like the monster in the graffiti in Room 107. However, the victim identity of the person in this graffiti is more obvious.

"The style is the same, it's the same person." I say.

"It's a child's drawing. Maybe one of the girls or boys. ”

"There is not enough evidence for this inference." I seemed to be infected by Jung, and I unconsciously took his tone.

"I'm intuitive." Marceau said disapprovingly, confident in her own judgment. Actually, that's what I thought in my heart.

"Do you think the victim is this Castina?" I asked.

"It's hard to say."

Well, anyway, now we find the second graffiti, and something strange happens in both places, at least proving my previous inference correct. But I feel like I'm missing something important, what is it? I couldn't think of it for a moment, but when I looked up, I saw Marceau walking to the other corner, looking at what looked like an incubator with strange eyes.

"What's wrong?" I hurried up.

"There's something in there." Marceau finished speaking, and the box was hit by the contents of the box, making a dull noise.

Marceau was suddenly enchanted and suddenly reached for the lid.

"Don't touch it," I yelled.

I finally remembered what was wrong. When I first entered Room 107, I unleashed bug-like monsters. In this case, this room 113 should have a similar monster. When Marceau was trapped here, she saw bugs instead of flames, so the question arises, are those bugs monsters from this room, or are they from Room 107? If it is the latter, then Marceau's actions today are undoubtedly unwise.

No, being driven by curiosity in an unusual place would have been stupid.

But I couldn't stop her, because I never thought she would make such a foolish choice. She's not stupid, and she doesn't look like someone who would put herself in danger out of curiosity.

"Stop," I yelled, but she turned a deaf ear and slammed the lid open.

A cloud of black smoke rose from the incubator and quickly turned into a woman's face. But that face was so hideous, and there was a lot of misery between the eyebrows. Marceau seemed stunned, staring up at the grimace in a daze.

She looks like a marionette.

Grimace suddenly opened its mouth, and in the nick of time, I threw Marceau to the ground and rolled to the side desperately.

The air vibrated with a familiar sensation, and the ground cracked. I immediately reacted, it was a shock wave, but it was not the same as the shock wave produced by a knife-like critical weapon. The ghost's screams were silent, but I felt as if my brain and internal organs had been pricked with needles.

Marceau seemed to faint, and I crawled to the door with her in my arms. As soon as he stood up, he saw the boy standing in the hallway outside the door. He was the same as he had seen in Room 7, dressed in a white robe, staring at me calmly.

There was no one there in the blink of an eye.

Once again, I was frozen by the gaze, and he lifted his lips silently. What does he want to sue me? Before I could react, he fast-forwarded to the left side of the hallway.

"Wait," I finally shouted, but the sound was drowned out by a strong shock wave coming from behind.

I hugged Marceau tightly, feeling my body still in the separator, and the pain of tearing through my back came from my back. Then I saw my hands, feet, body, and shoulders dissipate like dust.

I fell into darkness and felt my body again. I opened my eyes hard, and the ceiling seemed to spin, a gray pattern, but I soon knew it was an illusion. The familiar feeling made me know that I had really woken up, and that the darkness and fear of dying still hovered in my psyche, making it impossible for me to breathe.

I lay motionless in bed, feeling the warmth and strength flow through my body again, listening to my heartbeat to make sure I was alive.

It was dim because it was not yet dawn, and the clock on the wall was ticking, and it was still two hours before dawn. The whole room was silent, with only three breaths, one of which was himself. I twisted my neck to look to the left, it was Tomie; Look to the right, yes? Night. They didn't know when they got into this bed, and they were clinging to my body like octopuses, making me feel extremely heavy and stiff.

The two of them were naked, and there was a warm and plump touch from the place where their bodies touched, but it couldn't arouse my sexual interest for a minute. My mind seemed to be swollen and blank.

What a nightmare.

After a while, it was like finally unscrewing the propeller of the silt, and my head gradually became clear.

I blocked the shockwave for Marceau until my body turned to powder and her body remained intact. Now that I'm out of my dreams, what will become of her?

bk

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