In one second, the old hunter circled fifty meters, and I pursued fifty meters. In that second, I swung more than fifty slashes with all my might, and we were like a blooming spark. The old hunter's fatigue was even more evident. Attacking without stopping, there is no skill, and there is no use of flashy moves, because there is simply no time like that. This is the most simple and the most rapid offensive, stabbing, slashing, slashing, sweeping, with the shortest route, the strongest force in the shortest route, constituting a tidal surge of power. And the reef that endured the swelling was the old hunter himself, and under the observation of the chain judgment, I could feel that his muscles, bones, and even every receptor that supported the high-speed battle was wailing.

This is my choice in the "normal" state, after reorganizing the combat stance. No more flashy tricks, no need to worry about speed not being able to crush opponents as much as before. Yes, the speed is similar, the experience is rich, the style is similar, the moves are similar, and the people you face are like a mirror image of yourself. However, there is one thing that determines the outcome from the very beginning.

He was old and badly injured, and he stood in front of me with his last breath. If he had enough time to rest, he would have been able to regain his original ferocity, and even let me enter an abnormal state, and use the terrible and transcendent mystery to overcome in the outburst. However, there are no ifs and ifs in the fight.

Standing in front of me in such an incomplete posture is his choice. His consciousness is definitely not the mentality of "such a self is enough to send the opponent away", but "even if it is the current self, you must stand here until a certain moment comes." ”

I already felt it from talking to him.

So. There is no need to be fair. Now, it's the fairest fight. For the sake of the old hunter who stood here with consciousness, I swung my sword with all my might, and as a hunter, I passed it on with every exchange of knives and knives. That complex will and desire that even I can't figure out.

Then, in the ninth second, I kicked the old hunter in the chest. He finally lost his balance, not as a result of being kicked in the chest, but as the result of the first eight seconds of intense fighting. I tricked into his crumbling defensive circle, a flash of knife light slicing into his chest, and he was almost cut in half by me, a large amount of blood. Like a fountain, it erupts from the wound.

I sheathed my sword, and the dying old hunter lay half-lying at the base of the wall, panting like a bellows, and did not try to cover the wound, for it was of no use. He was in some pain, and it seemed contagious, and I couldn't move forward. A moment of respite. He let out a rather hearty hoarse laugh.

"Good, I lost. You win. So you can get in the door, or can you give me another stab? The old hunter took off his broad-brimmed hat, revealing his scarred, weathered face as old as weathered rock. His voice was not neutral, and his uplifted expression was like a return to the light. I don't know if he's going to die like this after I'm gone.

"Don't worry. No ......," he shook his head. Say, "That's fine." To be honest, I've stuck to my ideas until now. That's not the truth that should be seen. But I also see your persistence, you know, persistent people always have a way to break through the blockade and find what they want...... I'm doing everything in my power to stop you. And you overcome, so you are qualified to face that truth. If you fail, you'll probably be a corpse, and I'm not going to let water out and say, 'Don't kill people, just to stop you.'" You came with faith, and I greet you with faith, and your death, that's it. Don't talk to me about other nonsense. ”

"If you can still talk, it's good." I nodded, the old hunter in front of me didn't need comfort at all, if he could still stand up and fight, he would definitely stand up and fight. He's down now because of his persistence, and I don't think there's anything to regret about it, even if that's where he ends.

"Of course it's good. I'm not going to die so lightly. I'm not the same old bone as Hawke. The old hunter chuckled lowly, "If you don't kill me, I'll survive, and then I'll be in front of this door again......"

"I just wanted to ask." I know he's not lying, but I don't care, even if he can get up now, it's not so easy to heal his injuries, in this kind of "nightmare" composed of most people's consciousness, it's not like an ordinary personal nightmare, as long as he wakes up and falls back into his dream, he will be intact. I don't know if the old hunter has a subject outside of the "nightmare", but, whether or not he has the injuries he has received, it is probably impossible to heal them in a single nightmare, unless there is some miracle or some mysterious force to help. Otherwise, I think he's either killed by the next person who comes here, or killed by the weird. In short, the chances of him surviving the night are slim to none.

"Do you know who came here before me—" I glanced at the door, "to overcome you, to enter the door, or to the people you killed?" I know them, they're not all hunters. You know. "Through the battle with the old hunter and the contact with the old hawke, I have come to understand what the so-called "hunter" is in this nightmare, not to distinguish the identity of outsiders from locals, but to be a profession: to hunt the strange for some reason, to find the secrets of the night. Basically, as the old hunter described, the hunter is born with a sense of mission, which is not given by God, but given by himself for himself.

In this nightmare, the person who has the courage to face the strangeness of the night based on this sense of mission that he has given himself is the hunter. However, generally speaking, although the mysterious organization as a "foreigner" also has its own mission and beliefs, and must also fight against the strange to ensure its own safety, and then obtain some materials, etc., and even try to use the deepest night, but their actions and perspectives are not based on this nightmare, and may not be focused on the secrets of the deepest night. So, in terms of some details, it is true that the occult expert is not a "hunter" in the conventional sense of the word.

From the point of view of the "hunter" in this nightmare, the most essential meaning. I'm not exactly a hunter either. It's just that I've been recognized by old Hawk and the old hunter in front of me.

Many times, the concept of "hunter", even in this nightmare, is generic and vague. But I suppose the old hunter knows what I mean. He had been in contact with those people, had fought, and must have understood the difference between those mysterious experts and the "hunters" he represented.

"Ah......" the old hunter exhaled softly, and said, "Those people, there are indeed many powerful ones. But as you said, not every one of them is a hunter. Until they see the truth, they don't understand what the hunter means to the deepest night. In what way did zài exist in this nightmare? And after seeing the truth, they all became crazy. ”

The old hunter thought for a moment and said to me, "Remember, the hunter is not just a spirit, but also a blood lineage. Don't look at you and me, there are so many differences from old Hawke, but in fact, we have a common source, even. We have the same origin as the weird, therefore. We're experts at weirdness, and we're more susceptible to weirdness...... Listen, young man, be vigilant about yourself at all times. ”

He seems to mean something else, but this kind of secretive statement. Not at all like his character. I think it's some scruples that prevent him from making it clear, or maybe he just has a feeling in his heart and never sorts out a clue himself. So can't say more about me at high speed in more logical terms.

"In short, when you see the truth, you will understand." The old hunter waved his hand, and as if he had lost the interest in talking, his head drooped deeply.

I looked at the door again, and when I looked back at it, the old hunter had vanished, as if he had appeared out of nowhere, without warning. However, the blood that flowed from his body, and the damage caused by the battle, did not disappear, so naturally, it was not an illusion. What exactly is an old hunter? I don't know, but I'm not going to pursue it. The important thing is that he did appear to me, fought me, and told me a great deal of information.

I went to the door and pushed it open. The gate is heavy, as does its appearance give the impression it makes. Even if you look at it with chain judgment, you can't find any traces of someone pushing it away before me, but it is true that many people have arrived here before me and lifted the truth behind the door.

Now, I'm going to be one of them.

I'd like to see what kind of truth would drive these determined hunters and occultists insane.

The space behind the door is unexpectedly small, it is a small hall of more than 100 square meters, but it is more exquisite than the situation outside. The marble floor, where the figures could be reflected, was polished to a shiny light, as if someone had been taking care of it all along, and there was no trace of anyone else coming in or out. It is surrounded by glass-like transparent materials instead of walls, like an observation deck. The most unusual thing about the area I saw before was that there were no strange patterns or patterns in this small cleaned room. In the middle, there is a chair made of black wood, which is not imposing and does not fit the style of the nightmare.

The chair was so conspicuous that it was like calling someone who came here to sit on it. According to occult theories, if you sit in this chair, you will be "rewarded", and perhaps that is the "truth". I didn't sit on it right away, though. I just came to the transparent wall, and a faint voice called me to look out from here.

The first thing I realized was that the place I was on was the top floor of the tower. There is no continuity in the strategy of the tower, and the last time I had this nightmare, I had only reached the second floor, but this time, I crossed directly over the first floor and came to this place, as if the area I was in before was already the penultimate floor. Not only does this mean that every time I enter a nightmare, the place where I am located can change, but it also means that this tower has a special meaning to me.

I think it was this obscure meaning that made me not sit in the chair for the first time, but look out at the tower from here.

Outside the transparent walls, I don't know if it was the sun or the moon, a huge pale sphere, two-thirds of which had sunk on the horizon. To my surprise, something could be faintly visible from the part that was still bare on the horizon - I wasn't sure what it was, but the voice from inside told me that it was a nightmare Las Vegas. I don't have any evidence for this idea, and I can't see the blur on the surface of the huge sphere. But, my heart. That's what sued me.

From this nightmare, you can look out over to the nightmare Las Vegas, and between the two nightmares, as if the earth and the moon exist, there is a deep and powerful connection. That's why the mysterious organization chose this place. The plan they executed. Use this deep and powerful connection to confront Nightmare Las Vegas and the monsters that were bred by the Nazis in the depths of Nightmare Las Vegas.

The most surprising part, however, was what I saw when I looked down from the transparent walls – I saw the edge of the land, and instead of rivers and lakes, there was a seemingly endless ocean. Where I am, this nightmare. It's not a peninsula, it's an island suspended in the middle of the sea.

And, in terms of the overall impression, it is exactly like the island on which the hospital is located in reality. No, there are still some differences, and some of the outlines of the buildings on the ground still match my impression of the Peninsula Mental Hospital.

Therefore. Actually, it's more like-

"A combination of hospital reality and a peninsula psychiatric hospital?" I was a little surprised by this answer. I have a hunch. In fact, I understand what the "truth" that makes many people crazy when I sit in that chair is. Of course, to confirm this conjecture, I need to sit on it myself.

Thereupon. I returned to my chair and sat down without hesitation.

The next moment, the chair, without any mechanism, suddenly popped out of the handcuffs and leg cuffs, before I could react. They locked me in a chair. Even so, I didn't struggle. The voice in my heart made me not do anything to get myself out of this seemingly dangerous situation in front of me. My pounding heart was telling me that the so-called "truth" was being awakened.

It was another breath and I heard the sound of the water, as if there was water rushing directly over my brain. Then, my pant legs were wet, and I don't know when the ground had been swallowed up by a large patch of liquid. The taste of the liquid was so special that I immediately recognized what it was: LCL.

It's not just LCL. It was gradually rising, and in an instant, the yellow liquid that flooded his waist appeared, and red appeared. First one red wisp, then more strands, joined together, and the yellow area continued to shrink until only about a quarter remained. And where I am is is in the center of the whole small hall, and it is also part of the red zone.

The unique taste of LCL is mixed with the smell of blood, which makes people feel sick to their stomachs. The qiē that unfolded in front of my eyes seemed to imply something.

It certainly hints at a certain situation!

I know exactly what it can imply.

This is simply the erosion of the "river" or "virus" on the patients with doomsday syndrome, and it is only the patients with doomsday syndrome who have collapsed into LCL, and theoretically there is no death, but it is definitely not a good thing. In front of me, the red is constantly compressing the range of the yellow, as if it is gnawing at the yellow, and the yellow can only retreat step by step, and has lost a quarter of its territory. Such a sight suggests that I have to think that all patients who have collapsed into LCL are also facing further deterioration.

My limbs were confined, but the red liquid did not erode my **, but instead made me feel comfortable and warm. The liquid was rising, and in the time it was spinning my thoughts, it had already overflowed my chest, then my neck, and finally completely submerged me. Even so, I didn't feel suffocated, just a huge and jumble of information that suddenly cramped into my mind, almost unbearable and maddening. At the same time, I also felt the fear from "Jiang" and "virus". That strong sense of fear can also drive people who come into contact with it crazy.

This is the secret that drives "those who touch the truth" crazy? No, I think, it's more than that.

In the midst of that great and familiar fear, my consciousness began to drift. Before I really lost consciousness, I suddenly understood that this was the call to contact the "truth".

Half-asleep, I heard the voices of many people. They ran back and forth, shouting in anguish, and there was an atmosphere of urgency and helplessness. I also heard the sound of machinery, the roar of the water. I don't have any facial features, including eyes and ears, but I still have a steady stream of perceptual information coming into my heart. At this moment, I "heard" a familiar voice, it was the voice of Dr. Nguyen Lê, but the surrounding environment did not make me feel that this was some secret research institute in the Peninsula Psychiatric Hospital.

On the contrary, even if there are no specific facial features, the perceptual things are still spliced together with extremely messy information, which makes me suddenly realize what kind of place is out there - the reality of the hospital!

Are you kidding? How can it be!? That was my most startled moment, and then, I heard a clearer voice.

Dr. Nguyen Le said, "...... Was the deceased Dr. Hawke? He is...... At the beginning, I ...... with Takagawa Making Serum ......"

"He failed." Another familiar voice was Dr. Ender, "We thought he was on the wrong track, but I didn't expect him to keep doing it...... Surprising results...... We need someone to sort out the numbers, you are his assistant at the time, Dr. Nguyen Lê...... Crack the number jù......"

“…… Still, I don't think he's qualified for this serum right now. Dr. Nguyen Le said.

"You haven't even seen it." An unfamiliar voice said.

"I knew Dr. Hawke's thinking, and I did agree with his idea at first, but it seems that it was too simple at the time. According to Dr. Hawke's thinking, it was impossible to make serum. Dr. Ruan Li's voice was exceptionally clear, she paused, and said, "The limit of his thinking is that he can only make inhibitors, and moreover, they are inhibitors full of side effects. All of our current medications have never been out of Dr. Hawke's mind. It is true that when we made the zuò serum for the first time, the samples did not fail completely, as evidenced by the girls who have survived to this day, including Takakawa, but it was not a success either. Later, based on the original serum sample, the remade drug has also proven to be a failure. You know what I mean, Dr. Ender, Dr. Hawke, the closest thing to the serum is in theory, but in practice, the furthest from the real serum. The actual yàn that he carried out in private, and the number jù that he finally analyzed, will definitely not be closer to success, on the contrary, we will be influenced by his results and deviate from our own ideas. Dr. Ender, do you really think you need these numbers? ”

The air became silent and oppressive, as if the listener was in silence, agreeing with Dr. Nguyen Lê's words.

Dr. Nguyen Le added, "Dr. Hawke's achievements in maintaining Gao Chuan's various concoctions, as well as inhibitors full of side effects. I admit that his work is also the basis of Takakawa's clone, but that's about it. We all know that the Takakawa clone is not a clone in the true sense of the word. ”

"We need money." "We need Dr. Hawke's work to make better inhibitors...... In the absence of serum, better inhibitors can give hope to sponsors. We need to come up with something that will give them the results they want. ”

After another moment of silence, Dr. Nguyen Li said a little tiredly, "Yes, if this is the reason, we do need to analyze the number left by Dr. Hawke. I was willing to do it, but, my gut told me that it wasn't the right move. ”

“…… Gut feeling? Dr. Ender's voice was full of confusion and dissatisfaction.

"Yes, a woman's intuition." Dr. Nguyen Le said.

"Ridiculous statement." Although Dr. Ander said this, it made me feel that his feelings were not as completely negative as he said, "Anyway, we need these numbers, Dr. Nguyen Li, if you don't want to do the actual work, I can ask others to help, you only need to take care of the big, critical parts." ”

"I see, Dr. Ender. Since you insist on doing so, I have nothing to say. Dr. Nguyen Le said.

After that, the sound began to blur again, leaving only the sound of water, machinery, and unintended sounds, and in this mess of sounds, there was a deep, inhuman voice. I was again unconscious, and in my half-awake dream, information about Dr. Hawke was recovering. (To be continued......)