The cheerful music of the piano, the noisy streets, and the sky-high fireworks.
Just as the temperament of a city is determined by the flow of citizens, this city in midsummer has a fiery enthusiasm that is far more vigorous than the heat in the air.
Because of this, the young man couldn't help but be a little surprised.
He stood on the street where the crowds of people were surging like the sea, and he vaguely felt some kind of violation.
And out of place.
In fact, even a young man with pale skin and sharp eyes would not attract too much attention from people traveling in the Yiluo District.
But he still felt some inexplicable sense of alienation.
But I don’t know where it comes from.
Maybe this is just an illusion?
In fact, the young man's face still showed obvious sleepiness, and his sleepy eyes were drifting towards the surroundings.
It all stems from some unwarranted instability.
It's like what you are stepping on is not the ground, but the misty clouds.
Moreover, the top of my head seemed to be covered with clouds and mist, making me feel extremely groggy.
My thinking is also very stagnant, I just want to do something directly——
This feeling was inexplicably familiar. The young man had not yet figured it out, but he had no intention of obeying the urge to do something.
He restrained his steps, and then heard a soft, bell-like impact from the chaotic noise of Mo Lake.
The sound made him look back, and he saw a horned woman in a white robe and blue hair looking at him. The long staff she held seemed to be made of metal, and it was hung with Tom Yam-style tassels and lamps.
Both the lamp and the tassel were shaking at this moment, and the contact between the base of the stick and the ground was obviously the source of the sound.
And when he stared at the small contact surface, he saw no cracks that should exist on it.
The sound just now clearly came from the force of a solid stick hitting the ground. How can the building materials of this city be so tough?
...this city...?
“…”
"..."
After being silent for several seconds, he raised his hand and pushed his forehead, and then asked the dragon girl who was just watching him quietly, hesitantly: "...Miss Ling?"
"As Zhuang Shengdie, who would have thought that Huiziyu can take the initiative to struggle in the midst of dreams? You are also a wonderful person, Mr. Linton."
With a calm and unrestrained expression, and charming red eyeshadow, she was both the incarnation of the old beast and a person who vaguely remembered such a person. She replied with a smile, and her words also made Omo sigh in relief.
He became more convinced of his identity as Omo, and the memory of the incomplete Mohu became clearer and made up for it a little further.
He still hasn't really remembered everything. It would be better to say that there is still a huge gap in his memory and himself.
If Miss Ling had shown a confused and puzzled reaction just now, he would really suspect——
——I doubt that some of my memories that have been raised by suspicion are actually a dream.
Zhouzhuang Mengdie is nothing more than that.
But when Miss Ling's words were straightforward and unmistakable, it gave him the confidence to persist in questioning and believe in the knowledge that popped up in his mind.
He can understand the current situation.
It's just like what ordinary people sometimes have: when they wake up, they still have memories, but after a while, they forget all about it, and they only remember the vague dream of someone they seemed to be playing in the dream.
The content of dreams is not necessarily shallow.
But the actual feeling is really inaudible.
Thinking of this, Omer thought of Qian.
It's strange to say that it is clear that the information about myself has not been completely completed, and there are still a lot of empty holes that I have tried to touch.
But he already remembered "dman" which he had just watched not long ago.
Du Juantai's feelings towards Qian are probably the same as what this city feels to me at this moment.
But the difference is that Qianshang can control the rules of Du Juantai's world like a god, while he is suppressed by his dreams.
There was once a psychoanalyst named Sigmund Freud who proposed the concepts of id, ego, and superego, which have been adopted as the conventional framework by numerous psychological schools.
The 'I', created by the completely subconscious mind, is usually the master of dreams.
Most of the conscious mind above the literal meaning, the 'self', is usually suppressed at the bottom of the dream.
And the small part of consciousness, as conscience or inner moral judgment, the 'superego' is even more motionless.
Most dreams are like this, but Omo knows that he is not an ordinary person.
Although he lacks experience in dream manipulation, he is not as professional as his black-haired horse girl.
But I have had the experience of having lucid dreams with the help of external forces several times.
Even if you are pulled to sleep unprepared, after self-awakening, the world will be a new one, instead of still being drowsy and lacking memory.
The last time I had such a bad experience of being suppressed was in the hospital where I was knocked down by coffee and suffered a double burden both mentally and physically.
so……
"A gathering of dreams?"
He always has a good grasp of key points.
"How many people's dreams are this intersection?"
A dreamland that does not belong to oneself is naturally not worthy of being a god. However, if the server is compiled according to the plan of Dreamland Online, there is also a way to 'obtain a regular account'.
To become a dream player, you don't have to be a bugnpc.
However, Miss Ling’s answer was:
"How many people? I'm not sure. In a hurry, I just drew a five-kilometer radius."
"?"
"Miss Ling is indeed very knowledgeable about dreams. I did remember this, but the technology of dream connection -" "I've heard that people in this world are really worthy of praise. It's amazing."
"I'm asking," "Mr. Linton, have you found the target?"
"Miss Texas and Miss Lapland are searching in reality, and we should also search in dreams."
"Do you still have contact with Mengwai?"
"In and out of dreams, there is always me. This is my unfolding dream."
"..."
Omer just stared at this woman who looked young but could not tell her age, as if he wanted to see the beauty in her face.
The latter just looked confused: "Mr. Linton?"
"music."
After spitting out these two words, Omer had already sorted out his mood.
There is no point in forcing the other party to admit that they have not learned. The top priority is not here. The expectation of reducing the burden of becoming a dream player has been disappointed, and it is not impossible to move forward with a heavy burden.
After all, he had found the clue.
"Music? Well... Indeed, in addition to the cheerful folk music like a celebration, there is also a piano playing sound."
Poetry was Ling's hobby, and it was also the deepest impression she had on others.
But for Omo, who had only investigated her intelligence, his understanding of this aspect was far from clear and profound.
Ling did not insert a verse into every sentence, as if to emphasize the deliberate character of the character.
However, Omo, who has a lot of exposure to Tom Yam culture, understands.
Poetry, Tom Yam's poetry and songs are always inseparable. Not only is Miss Ling a great poet, she also understands music and can compose music.
As a long-time existence who is also involved in music like his boss, it is not surprising that she can recognize and identify the piano sound.
"But, are you sure that's the target?"
"Sure."
Omo was rummaging around in his sweater jacket and trouser pockets, trying to find the monster card, but found nothing, with a melancholy expression.
If you don’t go through the formal process of entering the dream, it will be rubbish, and you won’t even be able to bring in the equipment.
It was obviously difficult to say this in person, so he could only continue with a melancholy look in his eyes:
"I've heard this song, it's called "a quatre mains", maybe it should be added with the suffix =3em16=."
"It's literally a piece for four hands."
