When Zhang Luo arrived at the Nightmare Theater this time, he did not go through the "pass" to obtain the admission qualification as before, but immediately encountered a warm welcome from an "old friend". Pen, fun, and www.biquge.info

A pitch-black "rag" floated over, and under the tattered cuffs, slender arms as thin as matchsticks were revealed, as well as sharp claws:

"Welcome to the Nightmare Theater! Do you have any needs? "The guy's voice was flattering.

"Oh? You're not dead yet? Zhang Luo narrowed his eyes and looked at Mephistopheles floating in the void.

After entering the dream, his appearance changed to that of wearing a skull mask, a long black trench coat, and long leather boots. However, if you look closely, you can still see the difference.

Compared with the appearance of a human before, Zhang Luo's mask can now see several dilated blood vessels exposed on the outside of the skin, and his body shape has become a little blurred, obviously some not very good changes.

However, at this time, Zhang Luo didn't bother to pay attention to his "virtual appearance", and immediately asked: "Where is Floyd?" ”

"Ah, now it's under Mr. Freud's rule. I was also one of his subordinates. The devil, who had been destroyed once, but was now restored, immediately said, "Are you going to see him?" ”

"Nonsense." Zhang Luo said rudely that he really couldn't have a good impression of this devil who bullied the soft and was afraid of the hard, and occasionally stuck a knife in his back.

"Then I'll take you to him now, come with me." The black rag turned around as he spoke, floating towards the boundless void behind him, and Zhang Luo immediately followed.

The Nightmare Theater with complex scenes before was gone, replaced by an empty void, and Zhang Luo asked as he floated in the air: "Don't play now?" ”

"Ah, do you mean Nightmare Theater?" Mephistopheles' voice was humble: "Mr. Freud did not allow the theater to continue, so he had to cancel it. ”

"You seem to be in awe of your new master." Zhang Luo said thoughtfully.

Obviously, after helping Mephistopheles fight off Freud for the first time, the old man attacked again, and this time, Mephistopheles, the ruler of the Nightmare Theater, was no longer able to resist Floyd's attack.

Zhang Luo could see that a cunning guy like Mephistopheles could not become a loyal subordinate at all, and he was clearly looking for an opportunity to rebel. If Freud had slackened a little, he would have been stabbed by this devil.

And Freud, who is a master of psychology, naturally can't fail to see Mephistopheles's thoughts, so the question is: why did that old man take Mephistopheles as a subordinate when he knew that this devil might betray at any time?

While he was thinking, Zhang Luo saw a faint glimmer of indifference appear in the darkness in front of him, and then it began to expand rapidly, making his eyes white and unable to see anything.

When Zhang Luo, who was in a dream, regained his eyesight again, he immediately found that he was already in a study room of at least 200 square meters.

It was a cuboid room, with no doors or windows, and on all four walls were huge bookshelves filled with all kinds of tomes, and the light from the crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling overhead reflected the marble floor below, and the white-haired old man sitting in a brown soft chair in the center of the room, holding a pair of gold-rimmed glasses, reading a large book on the table in front of him.

The old man's face was full of wrinkles, but his appearance was extraordinarily spirited, even if the person who had defeated him once appeared, he did not show any surprise, and continued to read without raising his head, but said casually: "You are here." ”

"You seem to have known I was coming." The man in the trench coat wearing the skull mask said.

"Well, after that time, I studied the structure of your consciousness." The white-haired old man put down the glasses in his hand and looked up into Zhang Luo's eyes: "All your thoughts can't escape my eyes." ”

"You're spying on me? I'm going to call the police! Zhang Luo said and touched the pocket of the black windbreaker, and actually found a mobile phone.

As the highest level of dream control is "true. Dream Controller", he can now turn himself into a robot or a giant monster, even in Freud's realm, if he does fight.

"No kidding, human sense of humor means nothing to me." Floyd didn't mean to complain at all, just continued to sit in the chair and said to the devil floating behind Zhang Luo: "Get out." ”

"Yes, Mr. Floyd." Mephistopheles stretched out her hemp right arm to her chest, bowed politely, and then suddenly disappeared.

Seeing that the cunning devil had finally left, the old man was silent for a moment, and then slowly spoke, "You are here to ask for information about the 'Lord of Paradise', right?" ”

"You really spied on my consciousness?" Zhang Luo frowned slightly, staring at the energetic old man in front of him.

"As an elder, I like to observe the consciousness of the younger generation and summarize the new characteristics in it." Freud had no shame in the slightest, and remained as "I am justified": "Your consciousness - and the subconscious of all human beings in this world - is within the scope of my observation. ”

"Oh? Are you old or voyeur? Zhang Luo teased.

Freud naturally did not answer such a boring question, but continued: "Boy, you want to know what state of your consciousness is now more than the Lord of Paradise, am I right? ”

"You're right." Zhang Luo didn't bother to continue to deal with this old man who could spy on his consciousness, but immediately went straight to the topic: "Is there anything wrong with my consciousness at the moment?" ”

As soon as he asked the question, Freud immediately gave the answer: "You are mentally ill." ”

Hearing this, Zhang Luo didn't argue anything, but immediately asked, "Which one?" ”

"More than one." The expression on Floyd's face was serious, and it didn't look like he was lying.

"Okay." Zhang Luo shook his head: "Don't sell it, just say it." ”

"You have mild delusions of victimhood, mild obsessive-compulsive disorder, mild schizophrenia, mild paranoia, and a rare symptom." Speaking of this, Freud grabbed the gold-encrusted cane on the side of the table and gently tapped the floor: "Ordinary people are unable to perceive their subconscious, and most of their subconscious cannot enter the conscious, but are classified as 'garbage' and enter the category of the unconscious. But your subconscious mind can be fully reflected in your consciousness, which is very rare. ”

"So what?" Zhang Luo asked.

"So, you can be keenly aware of hidden dangers and strange phenomena. Because no matter how hidden those things are, they will actually be noticed, but most people's consciousness is unintentionally ignoring the existence of danger. Freud said slowly: "You think you have absorbed ghosts to gain the perception of danger, but that is just an illusion, and the 'combat power evaluation device' you used is wrong in this regard." ”

"It seems that you are not only peeping into my consciousness, but also secretly using my eyes." Zhang Luo sighed.

"Naturally, you have to be more careful with potential opponents." Freud still shamelessly admitted, and added: "Last time, I just didn't do my best, in fact, you can't defeat me in this world of consciousness." ”

Zhang Luo naturally didn't have the slightest interest in winning or losing in the dream world, what he cared more about was the information about his consciousness that Freud had just revealed:

If the introduction of the "ghost premonition" in the eyes of the executioner is indeed wrong, and it is actually his own ability, there is a question that cannot be explained: why did that ability have no sign at all before, and it was not until he went to the haunted village to explore that he inexplicably "awakened"?

Zhang Luo was about to ask Freud when he heard the old man say, "I know what you want to ask, but I can't give you an answer to this question." ”

"Oh? Wasn't Mr. Freud omniscient? Zhang Luo smiled playfully.

"That has to be with your consciousness intact." Freud still ignored his sarcasm, and just calmly stated the facts: "Can you remember what happened before you were ten years old?" ”

Hearing this, Zhang Luo closed his eyes and recalled, and then shook his head decisively: "No." ”

Because he is usually immersed in his own hobbies, except for a certain adventure in the Nightmare Theater, he rarely reminisces about the past, and almost all his energy is focused on various events that are beyond common sense.

After Freud's reminder, Zhang Luo immediately realized that he really couldn't remember many things when he was a child.

――The only remaining memory is the summer vacation of the fifth grade of elementary school, when I went out with my parents, and the memories before that were like a deep fog were shrouded in a deep fog, and I can't remember them at all.

If you ask your parents who haven't been in touch for a long time when you go back, you might be able to find the answer......

Just thinking of this, Freud once again made a meaningful statement:

"Are you sure that those two people who often make up all kinds of stories to scare you are really your parents?"

“……”

As soon as these words came out, Zhang Luo suddenly fell silent.

Looking at his silent appearance, Freud said with satisfaction: "Now, your paranoia has flareed up, and you are imagining all kinds of possibilities about your parents, they may be monsters from aliens, maybe they are ghosts at all, or maybe they are just hallucinations in their own memories, and they don't exist at all......"

"You're off topic." Zhang Luo said coldly.

"Your subconscious tells you to focus on the most important question, so you ignore the question for the time being." Freud was still confident: "But sooner or later, this question will get you into trouble again, so why not answer it now?" ”

"Because I can already see that you're playing with me." Zhang Luo whispered.

The reason why this old man asked that kind of question was just to disturb his mind, and Zhang Luo knew this very well. So at this time, he was not fooled, but temporarily kept that question in his heart, and directly raised the most critical question:

"What is the Lord of Paradise?"

Freud didn't answer the question directly, just winked meaningfully: "It seems that you also noticed, so you didn't ask 'who is he?', but 'what is he'." ”

"The monster isn't an independent entity, is it?" Zhang Luo said his own inference.

From his previous investigations, he had discovered that the Lord of Paradise was extremely powerful, and he could absorb the energy of the evil god "Nameless Mist" and the primordial hell to forge an eerie outer world and an inner world.

If the Lord of Paradise is really so powerful, then how exactly this guy's entity should be hidden has become an intriguing question.

As the object of the Monster Authority and many heretical creatures, the Lord of Paradise will definitely hide in some unthinkable corner in order to hide his true identity, avoiding the tracking of many "fans".

But if so, how did he create more and more "paradises" around the world at the same time?

Even in the literature of the local sect of Silent Hill, there are many contradictions in the accounts of that "god", and even the most loyal followers of the Lord of Paradise have never seen his true form......

"You're right." Without waiting for Zhang Luo to speak, Freud gave an answer, obviously shamelessly reading Zhang Luo's consciousness directly.

Under the gaze of the young man in the black trench coat, the old man sitting on the soft chair spoke his answer in a slow voice: "The Lord of Paradise has no entity at all, and with your current way of observation, you can't find him at all. ”

"You know him?" Zhang Luo asked.

Hearing this, the white-haired old man's right hand trembled slightly: "Sort of, he was still a good guy at that time......"

Although the old man in front of him seemed to be reminiscing about the good past, Zhang Luo still interrupted the other party's recollection and continued: "How can I find him? ”

"All I can say is that you have been exposed to the truth, but you have ignored its existence." Freud left a line of indeterminate meaning, then raised his cane to his chest and shook it: "I'm going to read, goodbye." ”

Before the words fell, Zhang Luo's consciousness paused for a moment, and when he woke up again, he had already appeared in the underground base of the Strange Talk Research Society.

Standing up from the recliner and moving his somewhat stiff body, Zhang Luo turned his head to look at the white-clothed girl in front of the workbench next to him, and asked, "How long have I been sleeping?" ”

"Six days." Frankenstein said, "I was going to cremate your body. ”

"Damn, that old man still remembers the last ......"

Realizing that Freud was secretly calculating himself, Zhang Luo struggled to support his body, which had been in an unconscious state for nearly a week, and suddenly felt exhausted, and his stomach also made a timely cry symbolizing hunger.

As he was adjusting to his body, Frankenstein's voice came: "Did you find anything?" ”

"Probably, I'm pretty much understood."

Recalling the clues revealed by Freud in the previous conversation, Zhang Luo nodded confidently, with a signature smile on his face, and turned around and left in a dashing manner, hiding his merit and fame.

Two seconds later, he fell straight to the floor due to calf cramps.

Seeing this scene, the girl in white, who rarely smiled on weekdays, suddenly turned her back to Zhang Luo, her shoulders trembling constantly, obviously enduring something.

"Don't laugh, help me up, I'm dying of hunger!" Zhang Luo shouted a little depressedly. (To be continued.) )