Not surprisingly, Number 86 was imprisoned. However, as far as the current situation is concerned, at least in terms of the living environment, it is not very bad. The cells used to hold the prisoners in the manor were a separate one, located in the southwest corner of the manor. Perhaps it is true, as Albert, the old butler, said, that there has never been any such a bad crime here, so the cell looks a little in disrepair.

Weeds stubbornly emerge from the cracks in the floor tiles, and each single room separated by an iron fence is covered with thick dust and cobwebs fluttering in the wind. A stool, a straw mat, that's all the stuff of this cell. After throwing No. 86 here, several guards locked the cell door and walked out cursing, as if they were a little unhappy with their new errand. Of course, such sentiments are understandable, after all, no one wants to leave their idle patrol tasks and run to watch over a murderer.

From early morning to late afternoon, hardly anyone cared about the life or death of No. 86. The only exception, if any, was the guy who claimed to be the Inspector of Simaqi, who came with his men and asked a few symbolic questions, and then disappeared as if he were going through the motions. Originally, No. 86 thought that the other party would really learn more about the case, but the result was obviously the opposite of what he expected.

In this regard, No. 86 also seriously told his doubts to the flying Mott - the cell could not stop it. However, Mott's answer really kept 86 silent for a long time. In the words of the skull, the truth of the facts is far less important than decency in the cases that occur in the mansions of the nobility. Unless the owner of the manor insisted on asking for it, no one would find out what it was. In other words, if it is found that some noble lords have some special hobbies and kill a few servants, what should be done with it?

I'm afraid that the case of Galil's murder has also been put into this category by the self-proclaimed smart inspector, so whether No. 86 is the murderer or not has nothing to do with him, as long as the manor says that he is, that is. Such a strange case-handling process did make No. 86 smile bitterly.

The sun is setting. Through the small window on the wall, No. 86 leisurely watched the sky slowly change its color outside the window. First a faint azure mixed with an alluring golden yellow, then the wind-wrinkled, fish-scale clouds were dyed a rich orange red. At last. Embellishment with a string of stars that first lit up in the east, the distant canopy of the sky was draped in a mysterious black veil that seemed to be transparent, ushering in a quiet night.

No. 86 sighed softly and pushed the wooden bowl aside in his hand. With his identity became a "murderer". Even the level of dinner plummeted. Obviously, the food in the wooden bowl was supposed to be the leftovers that the servants had not finished, and not only was it cold, but it also tasted very strange.

"What do you think? Boss. Mott's figure came in through the iron bars of the cell. From this point of view, No. 86 is indeed envious of the strange way of being of the Witnesses - it is very difficult for things in reality to hinder them, and what is even more amazing is that they can exert influence on reality at will. For example, who to bite, or what to pick up......

"I was thinking that all the things that I experienced here would come when I went back. Isn't it weird that it's deleted?" No. 86 whispered without looking back, "Isn't it weird that the more time passes, the more you feel like you're actually doing nothing?"

"Uh...... If you say that, you're right. Mott didn't deny it, "But you won't dwell on it for too long." In other words, these inexplicable questions are common for newcomers to be in the adaptation period. Ironically, the solution is not to question, but to accept. My boss. ”

No. 86 was stunned for a moment, and nodded with a smile. "Maybe you're right. He dusted his pants and got up from the ground, "Come on." Let's see what we can do now, can we keep waiting?" he kicked the straw mat next to him, and immediately several harassed rats sprang out from underneath.

"Of course you're having some fun, aren't you?" the skull fixed its eyes on the torch stuck in the wall opposite the cell, and with a bang, a bright flame jumped. "Otherwise, we're so sorry for the guards who were all withdrawn early!"

"What? are they all gone?" asked 86 in surprise. "Hell, I'm still here, the murderer!"

Mott Strange laughed twice. "Forget it, boss, no one cares if you live or die here!" said the skull, "find a way to get out, go to the morgue and see Galil, or go to the forest outside the manor to find the cute red bugs, whatever!" Mott was teasing the flame, a faint stream of air blowing out of its mouth, and the flickering flames were like eerie ghost fires. "Being isolated here has brought us great convenience. We just have to run back before dawn, or we'll be bored sitting here. ”

No. 86 grabbed the railing of the window and lifted himself up with all his might, and he found that there was not a single guard outside except for the pitch black night. "It's all clean...... Well, this bunch of derelict guys. He let go of his palm and glanced back at Mott, but the other man's movements made him a little confused. "What are you doing?"

By the light of the fire on the wall, the skull was moving slowly against the ground, as if searching for something. "I'm looking for the key, boss, of course, or do you think I'm going for a walk?"

"Keys?" "No. 86's head was short-circuited, "Are you looking for the key in the cell?" for the master's sake, I hope I heard ...... correctly."

Mott glanced up at Number 86. "Of course not!" its search did not end, "a philosopher once said that, by the way, please forgive me for forgetting his name...... In short, he said, "All great deeds and great minds have a ridiculous beginning!" said the skull, "and I, the great witness, Mott, am doing such things!"

Choosing to abandon the topic, Number 86 bypassed Mott and kicked the door. Not surprisingly, the iron bars of the cell door were much stronger than they looked, and there was no change except for a layer of rust that fell from the tremors.

"Truth be told, Mott, the near-eternal years are not bringing you some. Some ......" 86 looked at Mott who was still looking for the "key", his expression was a little unnaturally embarrassed, because the question seemed a bit rude, but he continued to ask, "Does it often bring you some weird thoughts?" like now...... "In fact, he wants to say crazy......

"Weird, of course, but now, I'm afraid not!" replied the skull very dryly. Then he turned his head to look at Number 86, "You know what, boss, what's my weirdest thought?" Mott's voice was a little serious, "I often think about our world. Nothing about us is real! it's the product of a madman's kind to please him......" it said, "well, I hope you understand what I mean!"

Number 86 feels like he's going crazy, or on the verge of collapse. "I, I said it's hard to understand, are you going to be angry?......"

"Of course not!' because that's a strange idea...... "Mott stopped halfway through his words, and stared at the stool in a daze. It seems that the so-called "key" has been found. "Hah, that's it! Come, boss, take this stool down for me! But be careful not to break its legs. ”

"Thanks, Mott, you've finally said something I can understand!" said 86 with emotion, walking over and picking up the stool. With a few simple movements, the only piece of furniture in the cell was instantly dismantled into parts. "And then? Great Mott. ”

The skull flew from the ground. "Bring the wooden leg and stick it here. It said, tapping its eyes to a spot on the cell door.

Number 86 picked up the wooden leg. It was a trapezoidal structure with a gap in the lower edge cut out. "Here?" he tucked the sharp corner of one side of the wooden leg into the gap between the door and the frame, close to the hinge. "And then?" asked 86.

"Press down hard!" Mott commanded beside him, "You can't do such a heavy job......!"

"Thank you!" 86 glared at the skull. With all the strength of his body, he grabbed the wooden leg and pressed down violently. With a crisp sound, the short and thick door shaft instantly fell off its original position, and the entire cell door fell straight down in the sight of No. 86. There was a muffled "clang" sound, and a cloud of dust was smashed. "This ......," Number 86 looked at the wooden leg of the stool in his hand. Elongated syllables popped out of his mouth.

"La-la-la!" said Mott in two cheerful ditties, "How's that, boss, are you happy with this 'ridiculous beginning'?" quack quack......

Number 86 simply bowed down and raised his hand, making a gesture that you should go first. "Satisfied, very satisfied!"

"Thank you!" Mo nodded and walked out of the cell.

Outside, the deep night had enveloped the manor, and you could hardly hear anything other than the rustle of the breeze through the branches. Through the shadowy trees, 86 could faintly see the bright light of the opulent mansion in the distance, and in a way, the morning killings did not have a terrible effect on the estate.

Number 86 stretched hard and took a few deep breaths. "What's next, where are we going?" he said to Mott.

"Let's go look for those cute little bugs first, and go to the morgue now, you'll inevitably be discovered. The skull looked back at the courtyard wall of the manor not far away, as if looking for an easier place to climb out, for the sake of 86, of course. "Mortals' ** will always be a little fragile and powerless, and many times it turns out to be the biggest trouble in the mission......"

At that moment, a flash of light suddenly erupted from the bushes, startling 86, and a scalp-tinging ball of fire shot out of the darkness and smashed into the location of 86. "Be careful!" he let out a burst of fire and leapt to the ground beside him.

At the same time, Mott, who received the reminder, instantly accelerated and flew into the air, but the fireball did not hit the ground as expected, but exploded directly in the air not far from No. 86. With a "boom", the scorching wave of air flew out the No. 86 roll, which was still in the air, smashed the wooden eaves pillar at the door of the cell, and finally fell to the ground fiercely.

The orange flames flickered, and the bright sparks dragged their trails like fireworks. In this slowly dissipating light, No. 86 saw a figure wearing a hooded cloak and slowly walked towards it. "How did you find it so quickly? It did save me a lot of time......" He immediately recognized the other as the guy who had attacked him.

"Looks like the demon is in a hurry......" The skull slowly fell from the air, "By the way, boss, thank you for thinking about me just now! ”

"Don't worry, there won't be a next time!" said No. 86, rising from the ground and carrying a stick from the broken wood that could barely be used as a weapon. "Come on, minc, don't always do something sneaking up from behind!" he roared and rushed towards the black figure.

"Shut up!" The black figure waved the palm above his head and suddenly burst into rolling flames, and with a flick, a fireball that dragged out a bright trail flew towards No. 86 at high speed.

picked up the wooden stick in his hand and smashed it hard, with a muffled bang, the bursting flames and air waves made No. 86's momentum slammed, and the sharp pain from his arm made a layer of cold sweat overflow on his forehead. "Leave me alone, I'll call you when I need to disperse!"

"Yes, Boss!" replied the skull in the air.

In the battlefield, one side wants to try his best to get close, and the other side fights and retreats, always maintaining a safe distance. The current situation is much more difficult than 86 expected, because the surrounding environment is not the cramped wooden house of the last time they met, and in this open space, it is almost impossible for him to get close to the other party like he did last time.

Flying dirt and grass mixed with whistling fireballs kept playing out in this not too far distance, and every attack of the opponent would bring a lot of trouble to No. 86. Individual dodged fireballs will set off a layer of skin-tearing heat waves in the air, and those who can't dodge at all, No. 86 can only resist with his own body. The sharp pain after each blow gave him the illusion that he had been stripped of a layer of skin.

And that black figure, like a goshawk playing with a hare, keeps changing positions, and every time it will stop the momentum of No. 86 trying to get closer. The orange flames dragged all sorts of enchanting swirls in his hands, and the flames that burst blew his worn hooded cloak behind him, looking like a ghostly ghost in the night.

"You have to lean in, you have to!" 86 spat out a mouthful of blood, and a pair of bloodshot eyes radiated a wild brilliance, "Spend here, my end is only certain death!" (To be continued.) )