10

Admissor lowered his head, walked carelessly, wore an old jacket and blue coarse trousers, and walked unsteadily on the street. His goal was the workhouse on Iron Cross Street in Tingen.

The workhouse is sponsored by the "Ernst Charitable Foundation", a long-established charity in Thies. The Ernst Foundation has been established for more than 150 years. There are countless workhouses, welfare homes, and charity schools, large and small, all over the country.

There is one in every country, even in the lower streets of small cities like Tingen.

Admissor, who was naturally overly inspired, often fell into trances and murmured, and could hardly work normally to support himself. He relied on odd jobs and charity in the workhouse to survive with difficulty.

"Our Mr. Monster is back!"

He walked into the almshouse and handed the purchase list to the person in charge. Then a familiar female caregiver greeted him warmly, led him to the dining table, and put down a vegetable soup with several pieces of fingernail-sized meat visible.

With two pieces of toast and a piece of bad butter. The children in the workhouse who were learning to sew happened to have their lunch break, and ran over with joy, like a flock of swallows chirping around Admissor.

"Sir! Mr. Monster!" A little boy holding a primary literacy textbook squeezed in front of him, his eyes turned around on the meat in the vegetable soup, and he grabbed the spoon with what he thought was a very subtle movement.

A slightly older girl glared at the little boy, who retracted her hand angrily, her eyes still rolling on her flesh: "What kind of story are you going to tell us today?"

"Story..." Admissor murmured, his cloudy eyes squinting, and he couldn't tell whether he was sleepwalking or awake.

He once told the children about the scene he sensed. He said he saw a young man with a strong aura of death on his body, as if he had just crawled out of a grave; he said he saw a gentleman with gray eyes behind him.

A dark inverted cross emerged, and just a glance made him almost die; he also said that he dreamed of a disaster, the whole city was submerged in a sea of ​​blood, everyone died, and he was rolling in pain.

Wailing, shedding blood and tears... But the children don't understand, and the people in the workhouse don't understand either. They can't understand, and even if they understand, they can't change the future.

Only the Nighthawks were wary of his hallucinations, and the gentleman seemed to have been treated. I don’t know what the final result would be. But regarding his dream in which everyone in the city was dead, even the Nighthawks were suspicious, and they didn’t know what the outcome would be.

What happened, I don’t know where to start investigating.

"There is no story." He said, "Dead, there is no story anymore..."

Admissor was so sad that he could not speak, but the children around him looked at me and I looked at you. They did not lose their enthusiasm because of these words and continued to ask questions with interest.

11

"Go, go, kids, it's time for a nap. You have other classes to do in the afternoon!" An old woman in her fifties smiled and drove the children away, "I want to provide it to the Heiye Welfare Institute.

The fabric will be delivered tonight, and the children who can’t finish it will have no candy this week!”

The children dispersed in a hurry and rushed to sleep.

Then, the kind old woman - the director of the workhouse - breathed a sigh of relief, sat opposite Admissor with a smile, and asked a slightly targeted question: "Are you still doing that?

A dream about dead people everywhere in Tingen?"

"..." Admissor chewed the bread slowly and nodded after a long time.

"My Goddess." The dean took a breath of air and lit a red moon on his chest, "I hope my lovely children are okay."

"Everyone will die." The monster said with confusion on his face, "Who stirred up the sea of ​​blood, and just one wave submerged this place. Human beings are so fragile, what is the meaning of life...?"

"...Life is a journey of accumulating suffering and happiness. Life is just a journey from life to death." After a moment of silence, the dean spoke softly and said this sentence that does not exist in "Apocalypse of the Night",

The voice was so low that only Admissor could hear it clearly. Finally, she thought for a moment and asked carefully, "Your talent is very rare. We need your power to investigate this matter. Do you want to consider assisting us?"

The words about the journey and the tour made Admissor, who was lowering his head to eat, slightly widen his eyes, as if he heard something incredible. He swallowed the soup, and the hot temperature sliding down his throat made him wake up a little. A strange sound

The river surrounded his consciousness, rushing forward. He felt that his spirit was in a trance again. The gentle and loving dean opposite looked at him worriedly, and he couldn't help but murmured:

"……Coming……"

12

As an Outer God, I know very well that there is a sadly thick barrier between humans and me, which stems from the huge difference in life levels.

I stared at that small city. There was no protection from a demigod-level strong man, nor a powerful enough sealed object. I couldn't think of any reason for failure. As for the scammer who was always trying to escape, I also gave him a certain warning.

, from the dream world, I can't think of a gentler method than this. But he was even more frightened, almost to the point of madness.

I can't remember the name of every human individual, just like humans can't accurately distinguish each ant. Therefore, when I encounter an uncommon human that needs to be remembered, I will always choose a unique characteristic as a code name.

The reason for his fear is "I will definitely die when the Son of God is born. How can a mere mortal be worthy of being the father of the Son of God?" I think this fear is very meaningless. Taking the initiative to join the cult's ritual without being prepared for death would be a bit disrespectful to the evil god. He

Apparently he didn't know that he was also one of the descending vessels, even more hidden than the seeds that had been planted.

The allies have made double insurance for this divine descending plan. In the process of finalizing the plan with him, I deeply felt how "generous" the treatment blocked by the seven gods was, which made him become obsessive-compulsive and care about details.

God. I remember that during the millennium that I formed an alliance with Him, there would be a divine descent every hundred years, and in the end they all ended in various failures. In contrast, I have never

The evil god who has been walking on the earth since the beginning is so blessed that he does not know how to be blessed.

Of course, as a reliable ally and an excellent and generous "remnant of the old days", I should help him fall to the ground as soon as possible.

But reality and ideals are often the opposite. In each of His failed divine descents, there is always the figure of Adam, the King of Angels, who was the eldest son created when He was still the "sun" and is now the half-body of the audience. And I

I can't meet Him, and I don't want to meet Him. My humanity is false, and my image is simulated. When I get along with the King of Angels, who is best at discerning people's hearts, I can't be sure that my secret will not be revealed.

It's not that I can't be killed, but at the moment I'm just a Sequence 2 angel passing by, and switching to my own authority will attract attention.

Therefore, whenever I find Him, I immediately retreat far away.

"This time...must..."

His words rang in my ears again. Okay, I answered Him, as long as Adam doesn't interfere this time, I will definitely try my best to help you.

Passing by the theater, I saw actors who had changed into costumes and were conducting a simple rehearsal in the open space behind. One person was dressed as a prisoner, his clothes were ragged, his eyes were filled with fear and hatred, and the other person was dressed as a clerk, with his toes on his toes.

He spoke lofty words of love to a weeping girl. After a brief glance, I understood that this was rehearsing the first few scenes of "The Return of the Earl", which tells the story of an innocent sailor who was framed and imprisoned.

The plot of a forced separation from his beautiful fiancée for fourteen years.

...Oh. Not a sailor, but a genius mechanic.

When we met each other, I said this: "The Count of Monte Cristo is really well written, and it's a bit like your The Return of the Count."

Every time at this time, I want to express my gratitude to the wonderful effect of the "generalist" path and be able to write down this novel from beginning to end word for word. Even though I have completely devoured and digested "Edward Vaughn"

Soul, but the memory of ordinary humans is inherently weak, and most of the pages they have read have been blurred, leaving only a few words.

But after all, he is also an associate professor at a university. Although his major is not suitable for me, if I read his memories hundreds of times and match them with my own fabrications, I can still pull out a few books such as... "Millennium of Solitude",

"Sleeping Flower Girl", "The Orphan of Backlund" and other tomes.

But on the surface, it’s enough to have Russell, a remnant of the past. I remember that the Xuanhuang Tianzun of Fusheng had hundreds of light cocoons, large and small, hanging in his essence. I don’t know what they are used for. If I want to use them all

Let it go, it's hard to imagine what the world will become like.

13

I still remember my first meeting with Russell, when he was still an outstanding genius under the God of Steam and Machinery. I approached him as a remnant of the past, and as a man who left his hometown, he quickly

He accepted me even though he and I were not from the same country.

This is in line with my judgment of human beings, that is, human beings can never get rid of their attachment to their homeland. (It’s hard to understand, this is obviously the earth.) When not far from home, they are eager to play with their neighbors;

When I was studying, I longed for my fellow students from the same city; when I was alone in a foreign country, I was excited to see people from the same country.

And in this "world" where no other time-travelers exist, Russell is alone in this "world". Only he and I are from the same era.

Russell asked: Lao... no, international friend, where did you get it?

I answer: Sequence 2 of the Devil's Path, Angel.

Russell was shocked: I am super, Chainsaw Man.

I felt confused, but I didn’t say anything, leaving Him alone there in embarrassment, embarrassment, and then falling into the loneliness of no one responding.

TBC

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*There is an angel and demon in the comic "Chainsaw Man" by freelance cartoonist Shu Fujimoto.
Chapter completed!