The burning notebook was like unleashing some kind of magic, making all the researchers who had read it irritable, and the researcher who was grabbed by the ankle kicked the husband in the head so ferociously that he almost kicked the husband's eyeballs bulging at the first blow. Buzuo's whole face was distorted, but he had no resistance, just swayed with the force of the man's kick, like a corpse, except that the hand was still tightly grasping the other's ankle. Behind the two, the other researchers who had read Takakawa's diary couldn't hold back, and the crowd rushed up, and as soon as the researchers tried to stop them, the two sides brawled together.

The entire institute was thrown into chaos, and someone tried to hide from the sidelines, but was quickly pulled out by the irascible people. The more the flames on Takakawa's diary froze, the more intense the interior became, with screams, angry swearing, and screams that couldn't be heard at all, making it seem like hell on earth. The notebook, which was originally used as a trigger for the conflict, was gradually forgotten by everyone, and the two sides seemed to be simply caught in an impulse of catharsis and self-defense, unable to extricate themselves.

The equipment used for experiments was used as a weapon of battle, and large and small bottles were grabbed and thrown away, and the elixir flowed on the table and the ground without knowing what it did, and volatilized into the air, emitting a complex and unpleasant smell. All the tools that can be picked up have become murder weapons in the brawl, and the movements of both sides are becoming more and more ferocious, as if they have forgotten the original intention of themselves and others to gather here, and they have also forgotten that the other party was originally their companions.

Everyone was beaten to the point that their heads were broken and bleeding, and even more miserable even severed their hands and feet, but, for the time being, there was no deceased, only the body of the husband was trampled like garbage in the chaos, and there was no sign of activity at all, there was no doubt that there was no intact place on his whole body, and the broken arm was even more bloody, and all the emergency bandages he had done before were to no avail.

The blood of the non-husband surrounded his body, slowly dyeing outward, and the blood of other people was also sprinkled on the ground, and as soon as it came into contact with the blood of the non-husband, it was as if it had come to life, turning into a line of blood that meandered and flowed. Many people are so focused on attacking or avoiding the attacks of others that they pay little attention to the blood that flows. No one seems to realize that these lines of blood that continue to spread to the surrounding corners have sketched some kind of abstract picture on the ground. In the eyes of both sides of the fight, the other party has a hateful face, not only the face is distorted like a demon, but even the spirit is already in an abnormal state.

Those who have read Takakawa's diary find it difficult to understand that these people who have not read Takakawa's diary actually burned the diary like this, and the other party's actions are like taking away their last hope.

People who haven't read Gao Chuan's diary can't understand what kind of content is in that notebook, and it makes those who have read it become like doomsday syndrome patients, no, the other party has become an unreasonable doomsday syndrome patient, and their condition has been terminally ill in just a few words. These sick colleagues, both physically and mentally, are a group of manic and dangerous patients.

They each have reasons for opposition, and they all have the belief to adhere to their own ideas, everything they can see, they are proving themselves right, they have never lacked the courage to struggle and the determination to fight, in order to gamble on the last hope, they only feel that they must imprison or destroy each other in order to get everything back on the right track. They all felt very conscious, thinking they knew what they were doing. Now there is no reason to compromise, just because the other party will not compromise, and he cannot make concessions, because the bottom line of concessions has been reached.

Takakawa's diary is a symbol of that bottom line, a point of divergence between the wills and ideas of both sides. Takakawa's diary is still burning, it looks like an ordinary material, but it looks like it will never burn out, and everyone here is either waiting for it to be burned or trying to prevent it from being burned out. However, before one of them could extinguish the fire, or take the notes back, the burning Takakawa diary fell to the ground.

The blood lines are spreading, spreading, interweaving into more complex patterns, enveloping Takakawa's diary that fell to the ground, and the closer you get to the notebook, the more complex and weird those lines become, and the more the flow of those blood lines is filled with a strange vitality. The burning Takakawa diary is like the finishing touch, placed in a strange pattern outlined by blood lines, sometimes propelled by these blood streams, slowly reaching a central position.

The blazing fire and black smoke were not the most eye-catching targets in the chaos. At the most dangerous and tragic moment of the fight, most people's minds had to be focused on trying to kill their opponents, but at this moment, when the burning Takakawa Diary reached the center of the bloodline pattern, its presence swept through everyone's hearts like a storm.

As if there was an invisible coercive force, suppressing the increasingly tragic battle, the cruel and chaotic clamor suddenly stopped at this moment, without any process of retreat, it was just like a stuck, and the unpleasant smell emanating from the air was even stronger. Time seemed to stop for two or three seconds, and many researchers, whether awake or not, couldn't help but retch, and more and more people could feel as if something was about to spring out of their bodies, from their internal organs, and as if a hand was pulling at their throats to squeeze out of that thing in their bodies.

All the strange and strange feelings, the things that had never been noticed, and the things that should have been taken for granted in the institute for a long time, all converged into a pot of porridge, and people couldn't help but want to escape, shivering, feeling terrific and desperate. When they felt awake and sane again, when the urge to tear each other apart had subsided for the time being, they looked at each other, at the colleagues around them who had been beaten by their own people, their noses were bruised and swollen, their bodies were scarred, their blood was flowing and their hands and feet were broken, and they felt nothing but greater fear and despair.

What the hell are you doing? What do you want to do? What did you do? Undoubtedly, when they realized this problem, they only felt that they were awake at this moment, and that they and the others who had participated in this fight before were nothing more than a bunch of beasts that had lost their minds.

But they can't forget the idea that even in the most chaotic moments, they feel that they are sober. The terrible thoughts, the reasons for the fights, the irreversible things that had actually happened, swirled in their minds like a marquee.

"No, no, it's not something I did...... No, I did it...... Me, I...... What the hell did I do? In the dead and foul-smelling air, a man's muttering sounded maddening, and it was completely unimaginable that the person who said it was normal. No one knew who was speaking, everyone was shocked by the terrible scene before them and others, and their hearts were pinched by the madness, despair, and fear.

Takakawa's diary burned on the ground, as if it would never burn out. Blood threads flowed and weaved, climbing up the overturned tables, chairs and counters like mountain vines, digging deep into the hard and soft surfaces of the objects, spreading along the walls to the ceiling, and the patterns woven by these blood threads were becoming three-dimensional, turning into a cage, or turning this secret chamber into the tissue of some kind of living being. These blood lines themselves are like nerves, blood vessels, and muscles, giving all dead things that should be made up of inorganic matter with the constant agitation of carbon-based life.

The color of the blood, a crimson deeper than blood, made no place in the chamber clean, and every corner that could be seen made people think of something terrible, as if they were hidden there, ready to move, and it made people feel that this research institute had been completely polluted.

Yes, there is no other word to describe the sensation of such a sight than "pollution".

The burning Takakawa Diary released a light and heat that would never have been possible in an ordinary book, and it burned for too long, beyond common sense, and seemed so strange, just like the core of all these abnormal scenes in front of him. The first person to recover from the blow shouted, "It's Takakawa's diary!" It was Takakawa's diary that made us like this! Stop it! ”

The researcher closest to Takakawa's diary seemed to be awakened by the sound, and three or four people rushed towards the burning notebook, but before they could touch it, a huge repulsive force centered on the burning notebook exploded in all directions, pushing them to the ground, and then, the huge repulsion rushed through everyone's body, sweeping the debris and human body on the ground like garbage to the corners. No one could stand on their feet in this impact, everyone just rolled helplessly, only the flowing blood line ignored the impact, multiplying and spreading as always, filling the remaining huge voids, filling the tiny voids, and sooner or later the entire institute seemed to be dyed in that ominous crimson.

"No, I can't stay here anymore!" Someone struggled to get up from the ground and shouted to the others: "We must get out of here!" ”

"It's right not to be a husband, we shouldn't have opened this diary in the first place!" Someone else shouted.

"What about not being a husband?"

"Well, over there, he looks like he's dead." Everyone's eyes fell on the corner of a table that had been overturned, and he lay there quietly, his body had become inhumane after several tortures, and his facial features had been trampled into blurs, and he could no longer see his true face. It's just that, except for him, everyone is still alive even if they are seriously injured, only the distorted form of the husband lies quietly on the ground, and there is no longer a sound.

"I killed him." Someone screamed to crash.

"No, we killed him." Someone retorted in a painful voice.

"We also want to kill ourselves." Someone else said heavily.

"Don't think about being a husband, we don't have time, don't you think the air smells weird? What the hell did we knock over? Is anyone doing toxicity experiments? A trembling voice rang out, "We're going to leave immediately." ”

Without this voice reminding, others have already realized how serious the situation of themselves and others is. In order for human beings to survive, they are extremely demanding on the living environment, and the human body is too delicate and fragile, and it is possible to kill people just by spreading in the air. And the current situation is not just a problem with the air. Rather, it's impossible to find a place where there are no problems.

"It's polluted." The voice sounded again, "But where can we flee to?" This is our last stronghold. Could it be that we are going to run outside? ”

"It's safer out there than here." Someone stood up and rushed to the control zone, "I'm going to close the defenses, open the exit, I remember there was an emergency exit." ”

"No, wait! We can't give up the color center, and if we don't have the color center, we can only wait to die even if we go outside. Another shouted, "Don't open the exit!" Connecting with the color center, we go deeper. ”

Only a few hesitated, and most felt that this person's words made sense, they were all researchers, and if they could not reconstruct the research, their value and ability would be meaningless. Everyone is regretting that they themselves destroyed their hopes, and this institute should have been used much longer. They may have more ideas, but the urgency of the situation is no longer enough for them to think about more complex things. They know full well that all they can do is make amends, and that it may not be possible.

Despair and fear, and even more complex and negative feelings, burned their throats like coals of fire.

"Why didn't it happen? Color Nexus! You've been watching here, haven't you? Come out for me, come out quickly! The person who went to the control zone made a crashing sound, "Give me a response!" Color Nexus! Color Nexus! ”

No response.

The voices of the crowd paused, and they suddenly thought of a question: this secret research institute was originally built around the color center, and everything that happened here could not be hidden from the other party, but from beginning to end, the color center did not have the slightest warning. It could have at least raised some alarm before things got this bad, even if the crowd had gone berserk.

However, the color center, nothing was done.

In the suffocating silence, Takakawa's diary glowed and heated, as if with some kind of will, as if it were an eye staring at this place, burning as if it was going to last forever.