High Diver opens his eyes.

What catches your eye is the dusty chandelier, three of the four heads of the chandelier have been broken, and the only one that is left is emitting a dull orange light.

The sound of flushing toilets can be heard next door, and the residents on the roof kick and pull their hard-soled shoes and clatter across the floor. The morning glow outside the window shines through the gap in the curtains, drawing a golden-red crack in the wall.

The high dive lay in the middle of the floor with his eyes open, motionless.

He had just had a terrible nightmare.

In the dream, he broke up with Lin Qian, and met the demon again on the subway, and the subway train was broken into pieces by the demon, and he himself died at the hands of the demon......

After realizing that he had finally woken up from his dream, a layer of cold sweat suddenly broke out all over his body. It's like a drowning person who is dying of drowning and being pulled up at the last moment, afraid, happy, relieved, and all kinds of feelings come to my heart in turn.

Thankfully, it was just a dream.

He let out a long sigh of relief and crawled up.

Waking up on the floor didn't bother the high divers. When he was working overtime, he used to spend the whole night on the bathroom floor and toilet with a toothbrush in his mouth.

He moved his arm and glanced at the electronic wall clock on the wall. The calendar indicates that it is November 6, 7:05 a.m. It's still early, enough for him to take a morning run around the community, then take a shower and go to work.

Gao Qian felt in a good mood.

He walked to the window, opened the curtains, and began to plan his day's work in his head.

Today, according to the schedule, the morning is the project phase demo meeting. This means that he will meet Lin Qian at the meeting. The thought made him feel happy, and a smile couldn't help but creep up the corners of his lips. He hadn't seen Lin Qian in days, and she had been saying she was busy lately. He misses her so much, and he never hesitates to express how much he misses.

As he turned, his gaze casually swept over the reflection in the window. He froze, blood all over his body seemingly congealing.

The reflection on the glass is his own shadow. A tall, thin young man wearing a brand new white shirt, but with a visible tear on the shoulder and a large brown stain on the collar that appeared to be bloodstained.

The scene in the dream flashed through his mind like a bolt of lightning, and Gao Qian suddenly changed color.

He tugged at his collar and touched his forehead carelessly, not hurt, not only did he not hurt, he felt energetic now, too good to be better, like a new machine that had just left the factory.

But this shirt, he clearly remembered that this shirt was newly bought by him, for the day of the proposal...... Wait, propose? Did he propose to Lin Qian?

The high dive's mind is messed up.

He staggered to where he had woken up, glancing around.

The brownish-red wooden floor had not been cleaned for three days, and it was not very clean, but it was not unusual. The pile of magazines on the wooden coffee table is still so messy, and the dirty laundry on the sectional sofa ......

The high diver's figure swayed.

He stared straight at the corner of the couch with a terrifying expression.

The sectional sofa is next to his bedroom door, and it's usually where he stacks up his dirty laundry. The dirty laundry accumulated for a week forms a considerable "hill", but at the moment above the pile of "hill" there is an unusual object, which stands out against the backdrop of a pile of light-colored shirts and T-shirts.

A rucksack that was so black that it was almost impossible to see its true colors. The buckle at the mouth of the bag was broken and tied together with a dirty shoelace. The shoulder straps are frayed and shiny black.

It's exactly the same as the homeless man's backpack in the dream.

Gao Qian reached out a little weakly and lightly touched the rough surface of the thing, as if praying that it was just an illusion.

Then he closed his eyes and slammed his backpack to the floor.

Boom, the backpack weighs a bit, and the laces at the mouth of the bag aren't very strong. When the backpack hit the ground, it opened the mouth of the bag, and the contents rolled to the ground.

The high potential stared blankly at the odd things.

He remembered that on the subway, the homeless man had said that the world was full of "shit": demons, filthy spirits, or black angels, and that there was a kind of person who specialized in cleaning up this "dirty thing", and they called themselves scavengers.

The things scattered at his feet at this moment seemed to corroborate the words of the homeless man. Because these things don't look like a homeless person's collectible at all. They look weird and evil.

Several bottles and jars of suspicious liquid, old but quite sturdy. A black-gold metal jar with intricate patterns engraved on it. Black feathers, hemp rope and bones are tied together in a mess. A golden hard object, I don't know if it's gold or stone. And one more ......

Gao Qian slowly reached out and picked it up.

He looked at the item in his hand, unsure whether it should be called a dagger or a dagger. The blade of the weapon was narrow, slightly shorter than the forearm, and it felt like iron and stone, as if it could absorb light, a dark anomaly. The strangest thing is that the blade is round and blunt and has not yet been sharpened.

This is not strictly a weapon, and an unedged knife can only be considered an ornament. But when Gao Qian's hand held the hilt, there was a strange sense of familiarity.

Twilight's Blade. The word vaguely jumped into Gao Qian's mind, and he was slightly stunned, not understanding how he could call out the name of the knife. There was a sudden burning pain in his left arm, and he pulled up his sleeve to find a black symbol the size of a little finger on the inside of his forearm, like a pair of signs, and like a pair of asymmetrical curved goat horns.

Hell, he rubbed the skin a few times with his hand, and it seemed to be tattooed in the epidermis, unable to erase it.

Gao Qian stared at the knife in his hand, and suddenly threw it out as if it was burned.

He jumped to his feet, took a few steps back, and gasped slightly.

So, it's all true, the devil is real, the scavenger is real, even break up...... It's also true.

So, what happened to him after he passed out? What about the wound on his head? Why did it heal without medicine? Who sent him home? Was the homeless scavenger? How did he know where he lived? And the backpack, why did he leave it?

That's right, the subway.

High Submarine turned around sharply, pulled out the remote control from the stack of magazines, and turned on the TV on the wall.

The news channels flashed on the TV screen one after another, and ten minutes later, he turned off the TV and threw himself into the couch.

The world is still so chaotic.

Another vicious assault occurred in a bar, another civil society group seized public land, and the observatory said that there would be frequent meteor showers in the near future, and some magic sticks jumped out and cried out that the end was coming......

It's all trivial, why is there no report on such a serious subway accident?

Is it for fear of causing panic and hiding it?

yes, how can you report that a subway train in the city was attacked by a demon at midnight?

Oh, if it was before yesterday, even he himself would have laughed at the reporter who wrote the report.

Gao Qian stared at the ceiling, and let out a low laugh after a while.

"You know what's the funniest thing?" he muttered to himself, "and you don't know what the hell the devil looks like until the end......"