Chen Qing looked at the wallet in his hand, grinned "hehe", and smiled extremely silly.

He could only laugh, feeling powerless to make any more movements, he leaned against the shelf, thrust the iron drill into his shoulder, he chuckled softly, his fingertips trembling and unable to open his wallet properly.

He only felt that the world in front of him had become flowery, like snowflakes flickering on the old TV screen, a dense layer of illusions made the world blurred, he was looking at the world through this layer of snowflakes, and his wallet no longer looked like a wallet, but like an octopus lying in the palm of his hand with teeth and claws, he was a little tired, and his eyes became extremely sour.

He wanted to see the world clearly, and rubbed his brow with his other free hand, but it was useless, the world he looked at was still blurry, and circles of light spread out from the electric lights, and those lights were shining, making the world bright and warm.

He pinched the corner of the wallet, his arm shook slightly, and his weak hands finally overturned the hole in the wallet, and the contents fell to the ground.

Jingle clang,

Two steel hammers, a business card, and a dried iron drill stained with blood and a yellowish liquid, that's all there is in the wallet.

He struggled to crouch down, but his shoulders were leaning against him, and the hammers full of merchandise were already piercing into the flesh.

The blood flowed down the iron drill and down his arm, and the blood was viscous, reflecting layers of blood-red light wheels.

He lowered his head and looked at the hammers that had stopped him, and he reached out his hand, and suddenly he heard the blood speaking to him.

"Stay! Stay! You belong here! ”

The blood was wailing.

"Eat! Enjoy! No one should pay for indulgence! ”

They clamoured, picked up the goods on the shelves and slammed them in his face, the packaging was silvery-white, but now it turned red, it was the way it was when it was held up by blood.

He looked at the package in front of him, it became transparent, and he could see the food inside.

Food. Maybe it's really food.

He swallowed his saliva and watched as hundreds, thousands of fine maggots crawled over the skull, they gnawed on a few pieces of flesh on the scalp, grew up in a moment, and grew into fat and attractive big white worms, and then turned into pupae in the next moment, struggling to break out of the chrysalis, churning in the small packaging bag, making the silver-white plastic bag shake in Chen Qing's hand.

It's like a delicious fish and shrimp animal, shaking and shaking, with a fresh look written on its face.

He should gently pinch off the head of the pulsing shrimp, and then take a sip of the yellowish, orange-red shrimp pancreas in the skull, just as he would tear open the bag, grab the churning moths inside, twist their necks, and drink the immature glands.

Then he should break open the shells of the shrimp, and the snow-white flesh is the same as the big white worms, the maggots that have not yet pupated, and then send them into his mouth.

He looked at the bag that was opened in front of him, he squinted, and for some reason, the numbness on his shoulders seemed to be much less, no longer sour, no longer trembling.

He smelled the scent in front of him, as if all obstacles were gone.

The halo of the world is gone, things have become concrete, and the wounds on his hands have healed.

He was amazed, and his fingertips began to reach into the bag.

“……”

At this moment, when there was only food left in his mind, there was suddenly an extra life in his brain.

It's looking at itself, it's staring at itself.

Chen Qing was stunned, he looked around in a daze, his hand was still in the bag.

But there's no one.

He was stunned, but the feeling in his mind did not dissipate.

"Turn back."

He listened to the words in his head, but when he turned around, there was nothing behind him.

He was surprised, but the voice was incomparably familiar.

"Who's ......"

His hoarse throat opened, and he didn't even realize that his voice had become like this.

He could feel the sound coming straight into his head.

But who is this?

He was stunned, and before he could ask, the voice spoke again.

"See your own path and see who you are."

"Turn back!" This time, the voice became shrill and hateful, as if she wanted to tear apart the person she was persuading.

"See what you're doing!"

He was stunned, but for some reason, the bloody hand picked up a hammer at his side and stabbed it into his chest.

But for some reason, his body twisted slightly, and the iron drill pierced into his lungs in an oblique manner.

"What's ......" he was stunned, his eyes wandered, he looked at his hand leaning against the shelf, a hand dripping with blood, a hand reaching into the bag, a hand picking up documents on the ground, a hand covering his chest and shifting his body: "This is, what's wrong?" ”

He squinted in the direction of the shelves, and another in the direction of the ground, and he looked in the direction of the blood flowing, and he looked in the direction of his own ribcage.

He has dozens of gazes that can be turned individually.

He had dozens of eyes that turned individually.

"I'm ...... What's wrong? ”

He struggled, and the dozens of eyes scanned the shopping carts of all the entities present in an instant, food, tissues, and daily necessities.

He walked forward, and his steps began to turn into a click, click.

He couldn't lower his head to look, he didn't dare to look down, he was afraid that he would be powerless to move forward after seeing his feet turn into dozens of sticky wrists.

"Food. Food. ”

He looked at what the men had taken off, except for food and food.

For each item they take off the shelf, they replenish it in two copies until the number of items is full.

When the quantity consumed by the product is an odd number, it will not be replenished.

He looked at the shelves in front of him, each with a different display.

"Is it a commodity? Is there a problem with the product? ”

He looked at the shopping carts pushed by the hands of those entities, and was suddenly stunned when he saw the silver-white goods one by one.

He walked to the front of a shelf, and at the very top of the shelf, dozens of brown packaged chocolates lined up.

It wasn't full, and it was even far from half.

Next to the chocolate, there was a knife about thirty centimeters in size.

The knife shone brightly and stood out next to the brown chocolate.

He raised his hand, and for some reason picked up the knife.

But once he picked up the knife, he realized why he had to raise it.

He closed those eyes and stared at the knife with the rest of his gaze.

He watched the tip of the knife get closer and closer to him, and he could feel a slight sour feeling in the center of his eyebrows, but he still kept those eyes open, and reached in with the blade of the knife, digging out those extra glances little by little.

Then he opened his eyes, and in their place there were six or seven eyeballs and a pair of eyes on the ground covered in blood and slime.

He looked at his arm, grabbed the knife under his armpit, and lifted it slightly, and the extra arms fell to the ground.

He lifted his foot, and the moment he put it down, the sticky ankles that made a clattering sound fell to the ground.

He changed back to himself, back to his original human form.

He took a deep breath, the smell of blood in the air making him feel uncanny.

With his eyes closed, he removed the chocolate from the top of the roof, then tore open the package and put it in his mouth.

As the hint of bitterness spread across the tip of his tongue, he could realize that the allure of those big living worms had become less alluring.

He gritted his teeth, put two pieces of chocolate in his pocket, took a deep breath, and began to walk towards the meeting place.