It was pitch black outside the window, and it was still a heavy night. Pen Fun Pavilion wWw. ｂiquge。 ｉｎfo

Then, Oppenheimer saw the captain of the private army standing by the bed and looked at him, only to realize that he had woken up from a nightmare again, and helplessly lowered his head and rubbed his eyes, sighed and complained: "Sleep is getting worse and worse......"

"Because you owe a debt that you can't repay......" The private captain's snow-white face suddenly moved a meter sideways, revealing the smiling old face behind him. The face was dripping with blood, but the corners of the mouth were sinisterly raised, and the whole face was only smiling, as hypocritical as an animal imitating a human expression. And the neat hairline, the long white moonlight, was exactly the same as the demon in Oppenheimer's dream: the corpse of the dead Governor Mendelssohn.

Oppenheimer was stunned for a moment when he smelled the blood in the dream, and then realized that Grand President Mendelssohn had not left his bedside at all, proving that he had not woken up from the dream at all!

Oppenheimer let out a terrible scream, and while he tore his throat and screamed, he looked down, and saw the captain of the private army who was "standing by the bed and looking at himself" standing with his head down, not moving, and a sharp horn suddenly growing from the tip of his left chest;

The dead Mendelssohn glared at Oppenheimer with a smile, slowly raised his hands, and asked sincerely: "How are you going to pay your blood debt in a realm beyond the reach of the Holy Light?

Oppenheimer continued to scream, but no one pushed the door in, his dreams seemed to be completely controlled by evil spirits, and he watched as Mendelssohn raised his hands, while the captain of the guard dangled and hung on the old arm, and then rose into the air, bowing his head and arms in the air, dangling like a trench coat on a hanger, the moonlight cast on the corpse in a pitch-black shaky silhouette, like a mysterious sacrificial ritual, and the vicious dead raised their hands reverently in the night, and the fresh corpses hung in the moonlight, just like the nightmares. The two dreams inside and outside coincide precisely in this vibrant shot, frozen into a circular picture that cannot be escaped!

"Who else can save you, who else can save you in areas where the light can't touch you!, you owe a debt that you can't pay!" Mendelssohn's sinister laugh hit Oppenheimer's eardrums. He rolled his eyes in horror and went straight into shock. He spent the whole night fleeing in nightmares of varying shades, and finally fainted and fell unconscious into an unfathomable sleep.

The next morning, as the potency of the warbler's milk had faded, Oppenheimer suddenly screamed, and woke up in the cold quilt, and the first thing he did when he opened his eyes was to look at the window, and saw that the first rays of the morning sun had shone on the outside of the glass, and he burst into the ecstasy of the rest of his life, and while rejoicing with relief that the day had come, he struggled to sit up and look at the bedroom: the interior furnishings were still normal, there was no trace of being crushed by the giant centipede, and there were no blood stains on the carpet left by the living people.

Oppenheimer was overdrawn and relieved. At that moment, the door creaked open.

A head poked in.

Oppenheimer shuddered, screamed and stuck it against the wall, but saw the butler cautiously asking outside the door: "Master, the speaker has sent you a text message." And last night's bodyguards all fell asleep in the hallway. Do you want to punish you?"

"No penalty. Oppenheimer was so exhausted that he had no strength to rebuke his men that he stared warily at the butler's face, lest it suddenly become Mendelssohn's skin-piercing appearance: "Letter me." Prepare me breakfast, shower and change clothes. Call the bodyguard captain to report. ”

"Yes. The butler closed the door and withdrew.

Oppenheimer woke up from his sleep, but he was more tired than after a long night's run, and he got out of bed exhausted and stretched, and remembered the nightmare of the previous night in horror, and quickly moved his vain steps to open the window and embrace the rising morning light. The sun calmed him down, and then he opened the letter and read it.

Only the daytime sunlight can keep him away from the darkness of the nightmare and let him find a little sense of security.

His psychological problems caused by the bank liquidation case 14 years ago have recently become more serious, and have evolved to the point where he can't sleep without Yinghuahua's milk. But he took the lead in Wiener's private banking industry, and everything was a fair exchange. So, even if the nightmares continue, the daytime is still to be enjoyed.

However, the pants should be washed and the sheets changed. Bedwetting was a common occurrence, and his sheets were changed so often that the butler was eager to install a roller in his bed.

He now opens the window for fear of Mendelssohn's face outside, and walks frequently looking behind him for fear of a fleshy face behind him. This nightmare of fear had been ingrained in his subconscious. Only by enjoying himself more freely during the day can he get a delicate balance. At least the extravagant daylight belongs to him.

"Master," the butler pushed the door in again, and reported in a slur manner, "the captain of the bodyguard is outside the vault, but his heart is no longer here." ”

"What? he's going to change jobs?" Oppenheimer stretched.

"His man is still there," the butler muttered, not knowing how to express it, "but his heart is gone." I mean, he's all cold, and it's estimated that he's been dead for more than three hours. The transparent holes in the chest are all insecticide. ”

Oppenheimer stretched his bewitching waist and staggered in front of the bed for a moment, then collapsed like a cotton stick, and fell to the ground unable to stand.

The butler hurriedly rushed up to help, but his master was like a chicken claw with bones removed, and he had been reduced to a mollusk, and he couldn't stand up no matter how he dragged it. The butler shouted in a panic: "I have ordered the bodyguard unit to enter the stress alert, and I have also mailed an application letter to the Foreign Legion, and soon there will be stronger mercenaries to take over as the bodyguard captain...... Everything is nothing to fear!hosts!"

Oppenheimer climbed into a chair and sat down, holding his head and panting, thinking, "Is the captain of the bodyguard having his heart knocked out alive? It's exactly the same as the picture in the nightmare! But there is no blood on the carpet, which proves that it was indeed a dream! Does this nightmare actually reflect reality? Is it because I didn't die in the dream, so it was only the bodyguard who died violently......" He deduced that his face turned pale, his teeth chattered, and he looked up with trembling eyes and scolded:

"You idiot! The captain of the bodyguard has been my confidant for many years, and you can't handle the things he interferes in at all! He was murdered, and the most heart-wrenching thing is me! I have lost not only a mercenary, but my right-hand man!!"

This shrewd scolding belied Oppenheimer's weak fear. The housekeeper suddenly realized, bowed his head and muttered: "I'm just anxious about your safety, so I take the security issue as a top priority......"

"So when will the bodyguards sent by the Foreign Legion arrive at Wiener?" Oppenheimer changed his tone and changed his attitude, eagerly longing for the protection of the strong: "At least a master chief! I'm already in danger, and there are always people who want to harm me!" )