In the cracks of the eastern mountains, the sun has slowly revealed its shining face.

On the street, which was gradually getting brighter, the gray-faced teenager was still running, and not far behind him, the relieved Curt was shortening the distance between the two of them faster and faster.

"I mean, you should almost give up, right?" Curt slowed down a little and began to greet the boy who was desperately trying to get rid of him, "You see, I'm not a monster, I won't eat you, I just want to ask you some questions, are you running so hard?"

His movements were like jogging on a promenade, but he was faster than a teenager trying his best to reach the peak. The boy glanced back at Curt, who was about to catch up, and obvious disgust appeared on his face, which was flushed with blood from exercise.

He was obviously unwilling to accept Curt's "kindness", but his depleted body gradually slowed down. The throat of the inhaled air was hot, as if it contained a flame, and the hands and feet became heavier and heavier as if they had been filled with lead, and the slightest movement made me feel extremely tired.

The human body will be tired if it is constantly exercising, and even if the spirit can make people persist in doing some difficult things, there is no way to make the impossible possible. Running at the highest altitude for a long time had exhausted the boy's body, and now he couldn't run even if he wanted to.

However, the boy continued to run, using the last bit of strength to escape from the wolf. It's as if Curt chasing him behind him is not alone, but a group of fierce beasts that will eat him alive. Curt didn't know what kind of spirit motivated him. He was able to keep running at this level when he was about to be exhausted, but he felt that it was definitely not a good quality of perseverance, but from fear.

The distance between Curt and the boy was only a few dozen paces. It's almost time to see the expression on the other party's face clearly. The boy turned his head from time to time and saw Curt approaching step by step, the expression on his face was doubly panicked, and he desperately twisted his hands and feet to keep running.

Curt felt that the horror on his face was not a disguise, but the look in his eyes did not look like it was aimed at him. But when I looked back, there was really no suspicious person behind him, only the slum dwellers who passed along the road were looking at the two people running with strange eyes.

But that's the limit. The boy's breathing was as heavy as that of a calf, and his movements were sluggish from fatigue. If he continues to run like this, it won't be long before he collapses due to exhaustion. If it's Curt instead. Now that you know that you can't escape, you may choose to give it a go before your body runs out. But the young man in front of him continued to waste his body by doing useless work.

"Okay, keep chasing him, and wear out his body—there aren't many people around here anymore. "In Curt's head. Lizzie's demands never stopped. "The alley ahead was already clogged with debris, and if he wanted to, he would have to go down Bell Lane and turn right at the junction at Kate Road. ”

The map of Guò determined the surrounding road conditions, and Lizzie had already anticipated almost all the paths that the boy could move through. In the distance, she used the spell of soul connection to direct Curt's actions, allowing him to induce the chased boy to enter the predetermined position little by little.

"Speed up and try to keep him in his current position until he turns into Cario Lane. If he's still running by then, then you can slow it down a little bit so that he can take a little bit of pressure off of it. There is only one path ahead. There should be nowhere for him to escape. ”

What Curt can see in his field of vision will be brought into Lizzie's sight with the help of a soul connection. Through Curt's eyes, Lizzie is able to gather more information. Paired with a map and prior information, she could almost get the teenager to run into a dead end.

And now, the panic and fatigue have caused the boy to lose most of the functions of his brain, which not only hinders his ability to improvise, but also robs him of his judgment. Even if it wasn't for Lizzie to devise a plan to block the path that the boy could pass, he himself would have already walked into a dead end.

There are narrow roads around here, and a few rudimentary obstacles can block an entire road. At the beginning of the chase, the boy had wanted to stop Curt with illegal piles piled up near the alley, but now it has become a hindrance to his escape.

The road they were passing through was even more evident now, with shelves filled with wooden crates of unknown contents blocking most of the alley. The woodwork looked like it had not been taken care of for a long time, and it was covered with a thick layer of ash, and the spider had made the decaying wooden box his warm home.

It doesn't matter who placed these wooden boxes here, because the people who put them here may have forgotten about their existence. The wooden shelves had cracked in several places, and they looked as if they would break if they were bumped slightly.

"Woo!"

The effect of fatigue gradually appeared, and the teenager running in front couldn't even control his body well. As he ran, he suddenly tripped over his clumsy footsteps, and his unbalanced body stumbled a few steps, and finally collapsed to the wooden platform beside him.

Well, Curt felt the need to correct his statement -- not "it seems," but "it does." The wooden pole that had been hit by the boy made a low tearing sound and turned into pieces. The wooden shelf, which had already looked wobbly, suddenly lost its support and began to collapse.

In an instant, the god of fate had dropped the dice in his hand.

The relationship between luck and misfortune is by no means equal, and the chances of success and failure are certainly not equal to each other. In the recent popularity of table games, it has been proposed to roll the dice to calculate the success rate of an event, because in some ancient religious texts, some of the gods who control people's fate are the ones who roll the dice in their hands to determine whether people have a chance of success.

A philosopher once said, "Lucky things don't happen in a row, on the contrary, bad things happen one after another." If this is true, then the teenager has absolutely no luck rolling the dice today, and from the moment he has his eyes on Curt, it means that he is about to face misfortune.

His body slammed into the wooden stand beside him, and even though his thin body was light, the broken wood could not withstand the impact of his full body weight. The wooden frame broke where it had been hit, and the crates that had lost their support overturned one by one, spilling their contents all over the road.

masonry rubble, scrap copper and iron, rags and cotton wool...... The contents of the crates fell one after another. Most of the contents of these crates are worthless garbage, but most of them don't seem to be lightweight, and it would be uncomfortable to smash them.

The boy squirmed to his feet, trying to dodge the falling debris, but he was unsuccessful. Tiredness dulled his body, and it was too late to escape from under the wooden frame that had begun to topple, so he could barely raise his hands and protect his head tightly.

The falling crates were like dice thrown from the hands of God, and one by one the hexahedral wooden objects fell from the toppled wooden frame to the ground, smashing into the boy below. Undoubtedly, the god of fate gave the worst possible verdict for the boy's choice of action.

Curt was still a dozen paces away, and even if he rushed over as fast as he could, he wouldn't have time to pull the boy out of the falling objects. I could only watch as the things fell to the ground at an ever-faster rate. Not surprisingly, the boy was seriously injured by the falling objects.

But it didn't matter, because Curt felt a rather familiar magic flowing through the air. Apparently, someone is using magic to drive a spell.

In an instant, the black shadows gathered under the base of the wall were controlled by the magic power, and they moved as if they were alive, gradually twisting into a translucent lumpy shadow. These strange substances made up of shadows were magically endowed with the ability to contact entities, and several rampaging tentacles popped out of the corners.

A few gray tentacles writhed wildly in the alley, bouncing aside all the rags that were leaning on the scriptures. Whether it was a fallen wooden platform or a falling debris, all of them were swept aside by the tentacles constructed by these shadows, the narrow alleyway was filled with garbage, and the teenager who should have been injured by the falling object was not touched by a single hair.

But this does not mean that he can not be affected, and the first target that the extended tentacles find is him. The dark substance trapped his limbs, and they were forcefully tied behind him. The boy had no strength to struggle, and could only watch as he was robbed of his ability to move by tentacles sticking out of the corner.

These things were indeed made by spells to protect him, but while protecting him, their real job was to trap him. If you want to do this, you can kill two birds with one stone by wrapping him around - perhaps for this reason, these tentacles unceremoniously wrapped the boy tightly, leaving only some openings in his mouth and nose for him to breathe.

"So, didn't I ask you to slow down a little bit and take a little pressure off him from escaping?" Lizzie's voice rang out, not in Curt's head, but on the other side of the street, "Even if it's just some garbage, it's not good to just destroy the shelves together." ”

She stared at Curt with a pair of blank eyes, a smirk, and a pride in her tone that revealed "How's it going, I've helped you a lot". (To be continued!)

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