The night in Loft is extremely quiet.

The dim kerosene street lamps stand alone on the side of the road, and the outlines of the houses on the street can barely be seen.

Lyndon stepped on the shattered masonry, leaning low in search of something.

It's not because of the malicious deduction of municipal streets that the city's infrastructure is so dilapidated, but he also knows some folk knowledge.

According to the Vigil Ordinance, residents are not allowed to leave their homes at night.

Otherwise, no matter what kind of danger is encountered, the various departments in the city are not responsible.

Of course, this is not to say that staying at home will completely prevent tragedy.

However, before Lyndon crossed over, there was still such a saying in his hometown.

A lot of debt is not pressing.

Anyway, there have been visions in my daily life, and my life and safety are always in an uncertain number.

It shouldn't matter if you leave home at night at risk.

A hopeless patient,

How can you care if the condition is more serious?

After some fumbling around, he picked up a heavy stone from the ground.

Linden raised his arms and pointed them at the glass window of the clinic building in front of him.

Good

Aim.

Click-

The glass shattered and fell to the ground, and the abrupt sound echoed through the empty streets, spreading far and wide, breaking the existing tranquility.

But this break only lasted for a while, and soon it was swallowed up without a trace in the boundless dark tide.

Even so, no one opened the doors and windows from their own residents to watch the unreasonable movement.

Lyndon deliberately paused for a moment to make sure that no one was paying attention to him, and then he propped up the windowsill and jumped deftly and climbed in.

Probably during the day, the neighbors on the left and right will only treat what happened during the night as a deserving crime, and will be severely punished for violating the "Vigil Ordinance".

When he first came into this world, he might still be confused by this kind of thing.

But as his understanding has become more and more profound, he has figured out many rules.

Like what

If you can hear a whisper, it means that a person is beginning to fall into the devil.

Another example,

The heavier the demon, the more you will be seen as a blasphemous of the Vigil.

The original owner of Linden's body may have died in his own home because he was too unreligious.

I woke up on my stomach on the desk of the office one morning a month ago.

At that time, his limbs maintained an extremely strange and distorted posture.

In a small room,

There was blood everywhere.

From the original owner's brain, he inherited some of his memories, including Linden's identity, a job as a street order, and a rented house.

He also had just arrived in Loft City not long ago, and unfortunately died a few days after moving into the East Block.

Forest's memories before this are also unknown.

There is a large blank space in his memory.

Fortunately, no one in Loft City knew the original owner, and Lyndon could borrow this body very smoothly.

Through this month of life, he also gradually adapted to being here.

Including a section of the quirky Vigil.

Although I still don't know much, it's still enough to cope with daily life.

Lyndon entered the darkened clinic, felt blind, and found a kerosene lamp on a cupboard.

He pulled a matchbox out of the pocket of his trench coat and pulled one out of it.

Boom –

The bright flames rose, swaying slightly in the cold wind of the night, and were slowly carried to the wick of the cotton rope of the kerosene lamp.

The wick lit and illuminated the room in an instant.

Immediately, Lyndon placed the lampshade over the kerosene lamp and carefully held up the lamp tray with his left hand.

The clinic is quite tidy, with an examination desk, several storage cabinets, and a curtain behind which the dark shadow of the hospital bed can be faintly recognized.

There was silence all around, and the sound of leather shoes stepping on the wooden floor was lined with great clarity.

Desk, second drawer on the left, where the medical certificate is placed.

He walked over to the consultation desk and, as the doctor had said, reached for the drawer.

Motionless.

Is it locked?

No, no, there are no lockholes in the drawers, and there are no external buckles, so there is no reason why they can be locked.

His brow furrowed, he crouched down, looked closely at the desk in front of him, and fell into deep thought.

He tried several other drawers, but they all opened smoothly, but the second room where the medical certificate was stored could not be pulled out, no matter how hard he tried.

At this moment,

The untimely movement interrupted his immersion in his personal spiritual world.

Tick – tick – tick –

The mechanical gears of the pendulum sounded rapidly.

He looked up and followed the sound to look at the old wall clock that sat in the corner near the doorway.

The movement of the three hands is obviously a bit strange, the hour hand is slowly moving backwards, and the minute and second hands are spinning wildly.

Tick!

Tick!

The sound of gears alternately quickens in a frenzy, from the initial order to a coherent clamour.

Looking at the abnormal movement of the clock face, Lyndon only felt that there was a suction force that wanted to pull away his mind and drive the growth of anger.

Without hesitation, he stood up, picked up the telephone on his desk, and threw it at the wall clock before he was completely deprived of his senses.

The mechanical parts were scattered all over the ground, and several metal gears, affected by inertia, continued to roll after falling, all the way to his feet.

But that's not all.

As soon as one ring is finished, the other is followed by another.

A short, rapid muffled sound echoed through the clinic room.

Lyndon lowered his head, realizing that this new strange noise was coming from under his desk.

To be more precise, it's the drawer that won't be opened.

Like a wall clock, the sound is subtle at first, but becomes more and more intense over time.

It's as if a vicious beast is trapped in a drawer, desperately trying to break free from its cage!

He took two steps back and picked up the crank umbrella hanging on the wall behind him.

The handle of the umbrella swayed towards the drawer and buckled onto its tab.

sound

Gone.

The moment the umbrella touched the drawer, the air seemed to freeze, making the whole room a little quiet.

With his eyes glued to the drawer, Lyndon did not rush to make the next move again, but calmly watched with bated breath.

First of all, the possibility of human pranks is ruled out.

so

Perhaps this is also a manifestation of the paranormal?

Is it the spirit?

Or something else?

It occurred to him that the last words the doctor had said when he had dissipated.

"After nightfall, it's forbidden to go out without permission, violators—"

What happens to the violators?

Lyndon craned his neck, looked up at the ceiling, and let out a long breath.

There are more and more uncontrollable things beyond cognition......

The most serious of the previous cases, that is, knives and guns, "accidentally" appeared at the bedside when they were asleep, out of thin air.

But now?

Has it evolved to be able to run into it without falling asleep?

Joining the Night's Watch seems to be imminent.

Maybe the day of my own death will come soon.

It could be tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow.

There was a small movement in the drawer again, and it sounded as sharp as a fingernail scratching glass.

He shook his head vigorously to prevent himself from being disturbed by the sound and causing discomfort.

Three-two-one, open!

The arm exerts force, and the umbrella hooks the drawer and pulls it out violently.

This time there was no resistance, but because he used too much force, he dragged the whole drawer straight out.

Looking at the extremely heavy chest of drawers, a parabola was drawn in the air, and the curtain that separated the room was slammed into the situation, and finally landed on the hospital bed.

A bloodstained, pale arm slowly stretched out from the cabinet.

Linden withdrew his umbrella and stared at the hand intensely.

Behind the arm, a mutilated face with the corners of its mouth raised screamed and swirled and poked up, and finally drooped over the edge of the drawer.