Chapter 78

Mo Yi leaned against the worn and twisted door behind him. The cold touch was imprinted on his back through his thin clothes. A rhythmic clanging sound came from behind the door, and the vibration came along the door panel, almost causing his five internal organs to tremble.

The sound came from downstairs through the thin walls, singing the repetitive melody quietly.

It coincides with the monotonous door impact behind it, and it sounds particularly weird and terrifying.

Mo Yi leaned back hard and pressed the door panel that had a shape that did not match the door frame inwardly.

Fortunately, the players who were confused were not very aggressive like puppets, their movements were stiff and not very large. Otherwise, he really could not guarantee whether he could block the three normal-sized players behind the door with his own weight.

Mo Yi looked up at the end of the corridor, and Zhou Yunchen and Wang Zhu's bodies fell softly to the ground. Under the cover of a high lotus, they looked like two piles of blurred shadows.

Mo Yi believed in Aiwei's ability - they probably won't wake up for a while.

He lowered his eyes slightly, then reached out and pulled the backpack behind him, pulled the zipper open, and then he held the flashlight in one hand and reached into the backpack with the other hand-

He took out the book that he hurriedly stuffed into his backpack.

The soft touch of the skin comes from under the fingertips. The dry skin lines appear in the pale light of the flashlight, with a faint dark halo. Just by watching you can feel a creepy evil force.

Mo Yi took a deep breath, ignored the singing voices that were looming in his ears and the uninterrupted slap behind his head, and then turned it on.

According to the letter paper in the small box, this book should have been passed down by Ivy's grandmother's grandmother. She was burned to death as a witch, but the book was still passed down in her family and passed to Ivy's hands.

The sacrifice ceremony she arranged to resurrect her children was also found in this book.

Eason Mo flipped through it quickly and carefully, and the slight friction of the pages seemed particularly clear in the narrow and dark corridor.

Unlike the manuscript he found in the cemetery before, which was mixed with Latin and English, the book is completely written in Latin, without any English, and is mixed with many strange symbolic characters. Judging from the shape, it looks a bit like a branch of the ancient Semitic language.

Mo Yi frowned with some worries, and felt a little irritated.

The ancient language he knew was basically limited to the few basic books he had read roughly, and it is almost impossible to translate the things related to professional mysticism in this book.

It's like sitting on a gold mine without digging tools.

Mo Yi pursed his lips in annoyance, and his pale face was rarely stained with a hint of personal emotion, and he looked a little childish under the dim lights in the corridor.

He set a secret goal in his heart: after he leaves this copy, he must learn this aspect well.

While thinking in his heart, Mo Yi continued to turn back with some interest.

As he turned the book, he saw a corner of yellowed paper falling slightly out of the human paper.

Mo Yi was stunned and quickly turned the page of the book over. He saw half of the manuscript with handwriting in the book. It seemed to have been torn off half, and the half below was cut off by uneven torn marks, which seemed to look extremely familiar.

His eyes suddenly lit up, and then he hurriedly opened the side pocket of his backpack and found the manuscript found in the grave from it.

There are still traces of soil and blood left on it, and the dense ink-colored handwriting looks clear and flat, exactly the same as the paper sandwiched in the human paper.

Mo Yi overlapped the two pieces of paper up and down, and as he moved, the crooked tearing marks on it overlapped tightly.

He pursed his dry lips with some excitement, breathing slightly faster.

There is more English on this piece of paper. Although it is still mixed with a lot of Latin, with Mo Yi's simple foundation, you can guess a lot of them in a vague way.

He spread the two manuscripts flatly on the ground, holding the flashlight in one hand and the open human book in the other hand, his eyes wandering between the two like lightning, and in his mind he was trying sentences and sentences, and different combinations of words and words.

Before I knew it, the singing in my ears stopped at some point.

A strange and heavy silence enveloped it, spreading like a tide, blocking every pore.

Mo Yi broke free from his thoughts. He was stunned for a few seconds, then looked down at the watch on his wrist: There were less than 20 minutes left to end this hour.

The singing suddenly ended... something was really wrong.

Mo Yi raised his 120,000 vigilance and looked up at the surroundings-

There was only a piece of darkness left in front of me, no corridors, no houses, no singing, and no door panels vibrating behind me.

There is nothing.

Only the rich and indelible darkness condensed in a boundless space as suffocatingly, quiet like an eternal darkness, the cold feeling climbed up along the calf, spitting cold letters like a swimming snake, wrapping his limbs with a sticky and smooth body, slowly moving upwards.

Mo Yi's breathing changed rhythm for a moment, and a little confusion and confusion flashed in his eyes.

He was a little confused about where he was.

Is it in the dungeon or in your own nightmare?

A soft touch like a slumber came from the foot, slowly adsorbing him, borrowing his gravity to pull his body down, and the heavy darkness squeezed his chest, causing every cell of his cell to wither in the absence of oxygen, as if he fell into a dream that was difficult to wake up.

Peaceful and calm.

A strange feeling eroded his reason, as seductive as honey, trying to pull him into deep and deep sleep.

Mo Yi's pupils were a little out of focus, his eyelids slowly closed, and his long eyelashes gradually moved closer to his lower eyelashes.

At this moment, he bit off the tip of his tongue hard.

What spread along with the sharp pain was the strong smell of blood in the mouth, and the rust rolled between his lips and tongue, instantly awakening his mind.

The sound in his ears grew from small to large, and from hazy blurred slowly became clear, just like someone was talking in his ear.

Mo Yi raised his head blankly, searching for the out-of-focused pupils in vain, trying to find the source of the sound.

“—Are you okay?”

The familiar low male voice is magnetic and elegant, as if it can cause a faint vibration in the air, and there seems to be some deep and surging emotions hidden in the cold voice.

Mo Yi blinked, and then realized that he was still sitting in the corridor, but unlike before, he now bent his legs and seemed to be about to stand up. The door panel behind him also opened a gap due to his movements.

The louder the vibration and sound of the knocking door almost made Mo Yi fall forward.

He quickly exerted force and pressed it backwards, pressing his palm tightly against the ground, rubbing against the dirty and rough carpet, and a great force burst out from his body and pressed the door back again.

Mo Yi took a breath, and a layer of cold sweat broke out from behind. A fearful and terrifying feeling came, making him cold all over.

The dark corridor, the vibrating door panels behind the back, and the faint singing voices in my ears came back again.

He almost relaxed his guard just now and was confused by the singing.

...In this copy, you really can't take it lightly for the time being.

Mo Yi used the sharp and painful tip of his tongue to press against his upper palate. There was still a strong smell of rust in his mouth. The bloody smell spread to the esophagus and nasal cavity with the feeling of pain, making him more awake.

The male voice rang in his ear again: "—Are you okay?"

It's the sound of fog.

Mo Yi blinked, paused, and replied: "...it's fine."

As soon as he opened his mouth, he realized how hoarse his voice was. The burning pain in his throat almost scared him.

Mo Yi thought about it, then asked hesitantly: "Can you speak at this time?"

The other party laughed and replied: "Only after the rules of this copy no longer exclude me."

"It won't reject you now?" Mo Yi cleared his throat and tried to make his voice normal.

“…Not yet, so there is only a limited amount of things I can say.”

The sound of the fog is heavy.

Mo Yi pursed his lips, and wasn't it surprising that this game was like a control freak. If he could break through the restrictions in the dungeon so easily, he would begin to doubt whether there was a fraud.

He spoke again and said at a slightly faster speed:

"This hour is about to end, but because of your reasons, it still gains nothing, so the monster is ready to hit the ground with the last blow. I was worried that you would be hit, so I spoke."

After saying that, the fog smiled softly:

"I didn't expect you didn't need my help at all."

Mo Yi frowned slightly, and before he could say anything, he heard the mist continue to say:

"The monster at this hour is already at the end of its strength, and it is no longer a fear - the next one you have to be careful."

His cold voice was stained with a hint of solemnity:

"It was buried in the soil on Sunday, and it was Solomon's last day."

Mo Yi's eyebrows were slightly stunned, and he looked down at the watch in his hand: There were still the last five minutes left in this hour.

The singing in that background has begun to weaken and become as angry as a fucking spring. Now it is difficult to recognize the clear lyrics even if you listen carefully.

As the second and minute hands on the watch move forward one by one, the sound becomes lower and lower and weaker.

Finally, it gently sang the last sad tune, and the ending sound slowly dissipated into the air:

“mylove,oh,eme…”

Then the surroundings became silent again.

There were no repetitive and monotonous sounds of door slapping in the door behind him, and the players behind him seemed to start to return rationally the moment the sound disappeared.

A low moan and a vague conversation came from the door.

Mo Yi's stiff and cold fingers moved slightly, then reached out to pick up the paper pages and human paper on the ground, and put them back in his newspaper.

In the ink-colored eyes under the long eyelashes, there was no ease at all, but a deep solemnity.

There is still the last hour left now.

【buriedsunday.
Chapter completed!