Congratulations on Your Successful Escape

Chapter 179

Mo Yi quickly ran out of the side hall without hesitation. The hall was brightly lit, and he wanted to lighten the baroque thick furniture and pale marble with a soft light, shrouded by the heavy silence in the house. It seems that time and air are still at the same time.

Quiet doesn't look like something happened.

Mo Yi frowned slightly in doubt, and walked up the stairs, and there was also silence in the vertical and horizontal corridors.

Is the body not yet found?

Mo Yi walked to the room where the other players lived according to the route in his memory, and touched it one by one towards the end. It is not too late now, and many players are wandering in the house searching for clues. Therefore, the door of each room is closed tightly. No matter the **** smell or the familiar sweet smell, there is no trace. Only the peculiar rich taste of the ancient house is permeated in the dark and dim narrow corridor. .

The dead corridor was stretched in front of him, as if he could not go to the end, but no room was found with a dead body.

Mo Yi stopped his pace, his eyebrows tightened into a thick black cloud, and he absently fiddled with the bandages on his palm.

Somewhat strange ...

But he thought for a while that now that he knew someone was dead, it was not particularly anxious to find a corpse. It would look very weird if he knocked on the door next to each other, and no matter what, he would know the death tomorrow morning. Which one is the player, it is not in a hurry.

Mo Yi turned and walked out of the corridor, starting to look for other clues in the house.

There wasn't much to gain until the eleven o'clock sounded.

And when other players returned to the room one after another, he did not hear anyone screaming or reporting the discovery of the corpse. Mo Yi pressed down his doubts, and had to return to them with Wen Yi. Inside the room.

After the two quickly washed, they turned off the lights and lay side by side on the bed. Mo Yi opened his eyes and stared at the fuzzy ceiling in the dark. The soft velvet quilt on his body slowly fluctuated with the frequency of his breathing. Anxiety and impatience protruded from the deliberately suppressed emotions of the day, and stretched out the tentacles in the darkness and stillness. The black seeds protruded like wild grass.

Mo Yi had to admit that although the time to enter the copy was not short, he still did not have many breakthrough discoveries, not even touching the basic context of this copy.

Strictly collect, tomorrow is the last day of this week. After all, most of the third day is in a state of being trapped in the room, and basically there is no chance of free movement.

This copy is like warm water slowly heating, and they are like frogs waiting for death in it.

It carefully and carefully grinds their patience with a script that doesn't have many fierce conflicts, numbs players with an exaggerated number of deaths compared to the total number, and then approaches their bottom line little by little, dazzling The tricks and dizziness, or the real or false clues, make the players in them feel dizzy and unable to find the real appearance that is hidden under the calm appearance.

Mo Yi's eyes stared at the front without blinking, as if he was trying to see through the darkness covering his eyes, and the faint sourness spread, causing him to close his eyes and dry eyes under his eyelids. Covered by a physiologically secreted tear film.

He began to comb through every clue he had found throughout the copy.

The longer you think, the more frightened Mo Yi is-he is the farthest among all players, but even so, he still feels that it is difficult and too loose to move like he is bound by his hands and feet. The scattered clues and the long timeline being pulled caused the entire copy to be covered with a fog that was difficult to see through. The feeling that it was empty whether it moved forward or backward made him inevitably have an illusion of being manipulated.

Manipulated ...

This faint flash of thought made Mo Yi's heart tighten involuntarily, as if the blood all over his body speeded up, and it seemed to be frozen and stagnated for a moment. He had combed the clues in his mind several times at this moment. He ran out again uncontrollably, covering his heart like a dense network.

Just then, he heard a low, familiar voice coming from the darkness beside him:

"Are you ok?"

In the silence, the sound of the cloth rubbing and groping, Mo Yi felt Wen Han's cold hands groping under the quilt, and the dry palms were firmly attached to the back of his hands, bringing a faint sense of peace.

Mo Yi could not help but be surprised by Wen Yan's sensitivity.

He consciously showed nothing unusual in the dark. To be precise, his breathing frequency and heartbeat frequency were deliberately maintained in a stable range, but Wen Yan seemed to be able to see through the quiet appearance he disguised. Same, keenly aware of his own strangeness.

This suddenly made Mo Yi interested. He held Wen Yan's palm backhand and asked:

"How long have you known me?"

He added: "Don't force it, just answer within the rules."

Wen Yan's slender fingers gripped back firmly, as if to transfer the power from him to Mo Yi, and in the dark he heard no change in voice:

"I do not know."

This answer did not exceed Mo Yi's expectations. He had asked it casually, and did not hear the urgent idea of ​​giving the exact answer now, but did not expect that the low voice of Wen Yan continued to pass from not far from the darkness Come:

"I just know how long I remember you."

Mo Yi froze-this he had never heard of Wen Yi before, his desire for inquiry was picked up and asked:

"Remember? What do you mean? Didn't you remember me before?"

"Well." Wen Yan's voice was slightly mute, as if the quiet air stirred up ripples: "Before I saw you, my consciousness was dark and chaotic. I didn't know where I was, Don't even know who he is. "

His words became slightly hastily: "But when I saw you, it was like a voice flowing in my veins and started screaming, urging and persecuting me-I must embrace you."

This answer was unexpected by Mo Yi. The deep emotion in his tone when he heard the last sentence of Wen Yan made his heart jump uncontrollably. It's like ... there's a constant hustle and bustle of consciousness in the body.

He maintained the calmness of his voice and continued to ask, "What then?"

"Then I was like a child of the first sage, and began to quickly draw all the information and resources around me. I started to have memories, to be able to control my form, and then ... I started to remember you vaguely. "

So ... Wen Wen's consciousness and memory gradually recovered over time.

Mo Yi couldn't help but feel incredible. Why can't just rely on the unclear memories in his mind to produce such strong emotions, and then urge a normal mind to do so many unreasonable things.

There was a slow chuckle in my ear.

Only then did Mo Yi realize that he had asked his inner question unconsciously, which frowned with annoyance.

Wen Yan's cold fingers climbed along his palms toward his wrists, rubbing thinly at the hard raised bones under a thin layer of flesh, and his voice passed into the eardrums impatiently: "I lean on Not memory. "

Mo Yi asked questioningly, "What's that?"

Wen Yan's voice contained soft emotions that he could not understand:

"It's instinct."

Mo Yi's heart jumped slightly, feeling as if there was heat slowly spreading along the cold skin of Wen Wing on his wrist, almost to a certain degree of hotness, he subconsciously threw away the surrounding of Wen Wing's fingers, Qiang said calmly:

"Are you sure that it is not the fledgling effect caused by the first sight of regaining consciousness?"

Wen Yan's deep laughter came from the darkness. Mo Yi felt that the mattress under him had sunk downward hard, and then something cold covered his lips, and the soft and moist touch felt away.

The mattress transmitted the vibration honestly-Wen Yan lay down again.

Mo Yi heard Wen Yan reply with a smiley voice: "If you explain this, I have no problem."

Somehow tonight, after a brief conversation with Wen Yan, Mo Yi fell into a dreamland faster than usual.

The dark nightmare that had been entangled with him for a long time did not swept again.

But he dreamed of something else.

Mo Yi opened his eyes and stared at the bright ceiling. The light left a spot on the beautiful and complicated pattern of the top painting. The shape of the spot made him fascinated.

And, most importantly, when he woke up this time, he even remembered some broken pieces in his dream.

The sun shines on the edge of the dark cup, and the dark coffee is lowered on the white fish pattern on the cup, leaving mud-colored spots. Then, the kiss of coffee flavor is accompanied by the smell of old books. He Hearing a voice sounded in his ears-"You are too tired." Then, the raging darkness swept like a tide, swallowing all the flavors and patterns of colors, he was in a daze. Walking forward.

The scarlet blood on the ground was blooming, and the pale, lifeless limbs lay quietly on the pool of blood, a pair of black eyes covered with pale white gazing at him, blood flowing on the slender neck was silent and turbulent The ground flows down.

Strangely, Mo Yi knew subconsciously that it was a marble statue.

It was a really weird dream, but it was clear as if it was imprinted in his mind.

Mo Yi rubbed his painful head, then got up from the bed.

The next thing is the same as last week. Mo Yi didn't see red in the water at the door this time, but out of prudence, he didn't move the pot of water any more, and he just ate breakfast The energy bar that I carried was starving.

He stepped out of the room to join the others, and many people had gathered in the hall.

Mo Yi waited patiently in the lobby for other players this time. When everyone arrived one after another, he discovered a fact that shocked his heart—

The number of players has not changed.

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Everyone, please believe that self-cultivation of an obsessive-compulsive disorder will not end!

Putting the end on the agenda means that I have to work harder! It ’s not to end the plot hastily. Hey!

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