With a loud roar, the three-tiered bookcase began to slowly stretch.

More and more exhibits are gradually revealed, and gears of different sizes are constantly turning, pushing the copper cabinets that were originally overlapping in all directions. In an instant, the study was transformed into a small museum.

Suddenly, a stack of tall and thick magazines fell on Kafka, burying his entire fat body.

Yulia hurried towards the magazines, trying to dig Kafka out of them. Frankie Mill watched from the sidelines and couldn't help but want to laugh out loud.

"Oh, bastard, bastard! What have you done, Frankimir? Kafka crawled out of the stack of books and cursed.

Frankimir suppressed the instinctive smile in his heart and pretended to be innocent, he didn't want to anger a guy like Kafka who didn't like anything at such a time.

"What the hell is this?" Yulia suddenly exclaimed.

"What's wrong?" Kafka asked inexplicably.

At this time, everyone slowly noticed that Kafka was buried in the same magazine. On the cover of the magazine, there was a scantily clad glamorous girl, almost undressed.

They could not believe that anyone in the Soviets would dare to print such a reactionary magazine in such an era. The name of the magazine was "New Age and New Morality", and Kafka grabbed a copy of it casually and opened it to see that the contents of the magazine were far more reactionary than the cover of the magazine.

"What is this, full of rotten thoughts and depraved feelings of life." Kafka scolded, but seemed to watch with relish.

Frankimir felt very fortunate that Kafka did not pester him with these things. He was amazed by the bookcase in front of him, which had to be said to be ingenious, such a mechanical design was far more incredible than the ballet bronze man he saw in the foyer.

"What the hell is going on?" Yulia asked, throwing away the unscrupulous magazine in her hand.

"I don't know, I just pressed the weird-shaped button, and then it was the way it is." Frankimir thinks it may not be his fault.

"It's wicked! This house is so strange, is that monster really going to the Gulag from here? Yulia shook her head in frustration.

"I don't know, I think it's ten likely." Frankie Mill replied.

"If that was the case, I would have thought that there would have been a river of blood here, and there would be horrific corpses everywhere." Yulia pouted, apparently unable to convince her of Frankmir's answer.

"You can't say that! This place is so big, I don't think it's any smaller than the Gulag. Maybe they've piled up the bodies somewhere, somewhere. After all, we have only been here for a short time, and the places we see are just facades. Do you say so, Frankie Mill? Kafka threw away the magazine in his hand and walked out of the stack.

"How would I know?" Frankimir said disdainfully.

"Hehe, I think you know better than anyone else." Kafka had one eye open and one eye closed, and it sounded as if he was having something to say.

Kafka kicked the magazine to the side, keeping his AK47 rifle in his hand. He knew very well that he was not in the "Frost Mecha" now, and he definitely could not take it lightly, and he must always be aware of the dangers that may arise around him at any time.

"Come and see what I've found." Yulia suddenly screamed.

Only then did they notice that before they knew it, Yulia was standing in front of the unfolded bookshelf.

The four people in the room, who didn't know what Yulia had found, walked towards her curiously.

It is an enlarged black and white photo, with a total of more than 20 people, men and women, old and young, looking like a family photo.

"Looks like they're probably the ones who live here." Yulia added.

"Not perhaps, but definitely. This must be, the master here. Kafka said firmly, and his tone was very affirmative.

"Let's look again and see if there's anything else, that's a good sign. There's more to it than I expected, and maybe we'll find something unexpected here. Frankimir said, looking around.

"Of course, as long as you don't find out a new monster, that's for the best." Kafka cleared his throat and said.

"What do you think? Are they all dead? It was unfortunate to be killed by that monster. Yulia looked a little sad.

"Not necessarily. As can be seen from this photo, they are the feudal landlord class. To live is also a scourge, and to live on the edge of a place like the Twin Cities will sooner or later be a stumbling block to our great revolution. Kafka pouted disdainfully.

"You really don't have any sympathy at all." Yulia glared at Kafka.

"My sympathy is reserved only for comrades who share weal and woe, and I must not tolerate the enemy. What do you mean by that? Don't sell your name as a scholar. Kafka said proudly shaking the AK47 rifle in his hand, taking the opportunity to glance at Frank Mire beside him.

"It's ruthless."

"You and I don't distinguish between you and me."

"Even if you are an enemy, you should have a tolerant attitude."

"Such a woman's kindness will only encourage unhealthy tendencies, and in that case our revolution will only end in failure."

Kafka and Yulia were arguing like this, and Frank Mirimir Kimir shook his head helplessly. The two guys in front of me, who are not professional at all, seem to have completely mistaken the problem this time.

Frankimir was too lazy to deal with Kafka and Yulia, and he thought that what they had in common was that they were somewhat lacking in heart. He carefully observed, unfolded and densely packed bookcases, trying to find something in them.

The display in these bookcases is really irregular, and the things placed in the bookcases, although they are placed in an orderly manner, look extremely disorganized.

Next to a book of organic chemistry is a book of Tagore's poems. Next to the Bible is an album of Hollywood Chaplin. The Roman calendar and electrical science are put together, and the Shakespeare works and quantum physics are in one place.

Such a chaotic arrangement can't help but make people wonder if the owner of this study can find the book he wants here. This arrangement is really a bit strange, unless the owner of this study is a person with extremely confused thoughts.

The two prison guards could not stand stupidly, and just slowly appreciated the dispute between Kafka and Yulia. They also listened to their instincts and began to scrutinize everything in the study.

After a while, Kafka and Yulia were also a little tired of arguing, perhaps because they realized that it was a bit boring, so they didn't say anything more.

There was a brief silence in the study, which lasted less than three minutes, when suddenly a prison guard shouted, "Come and see, see what I find." You will be amazed. ”