Chapter 157
The distance of just a few hundred meters took Wang Ye fifteen minutes.
When he arrived at the mountain of corpses, the thick blood had almost completely covered him, and his face could not be seen.
But the moment he stepped into the mountain of corpses, all the corpses suddenly stopped and finally swayed like ghosts.
Heaving a sigh of relief, Wang Ye's energy vibrated, shaking off the corpses on his body, and he immediately felt much better.
There has been no movement of the figure on the pavilion, and still only the back can be seen.
Wang Ye looked at the figure warily and stepped into the pavilion.
At this moment, the black candle in his hand burned faster, the flames rose, and the ghost head formed by the smoke turned into a ball of smoke, completely wrapping Wang Ye in it.
The black flame between his brows became even deeper.
Suddenly, the figure who had been sitting in the pavilion seemed to stand up.
but...
The picture is broken.
The pavilion in front of me disappeared like an illusion.
The next second, Wang Ye appeared on a bone-capped mountain.
Under his feet were countless heads.
The flesh and blood of these human heads have long since dissipated with the passage of time, leaving only a pile of withered bones.
And Wang Ye stood on the top of the mountain made of heads.
There were several pieces of paper filled with writing floating in the void not far in front of him.
The source of this supernatural incident! ?
Wang Ye analyzed instantly.
However, this piece of paper looked ordinary, completely different from Wang Ye's previous speculation that the author of the novel himself was supernatural.
The paper is fine...
Are those the words recorded on this paper?
He noticed that at the end of the last page, there was an eye that was still bleeding.
this...
Perhaps this is the origin of the giant eyeball in the sky.
It's just that the paper seems to be very unstable now, constantly shaking, and the writing on it has gradually become blurred.
seem...
Ordinary white paper is not qualified to record this story.
But blood kept pouring into the paper from his eyeballs, barely maintaining balance.
As long as this paper is damaged, the ghost realm in the outside world should disappear.
Wang Ye hesitated for a moment, carefully observed the surroundings, and found that there was no danger. He took out a rosary and shot it at one of the pages.
This is a gadget he collected in the ancient domain. There is nothing special about it, but it has a hint of supernatural power.
But when the rosary came close to the paper, the eyeball suddenly turned in a direction, and the rosary exploded.
The pupils of the eyes looked in the direction of Wang Ye, with an inexplicable charm.
...
Is a rosary inaccessible?
If he takes action himself, the remaining energy of this eyeball should be unable to withstand it. Even if it blocks him, he will not be able to maintain the balance of the paper.
While Wang Ye was deep in thought, a somewhat illusory figure appeared in front of Wang Ye.
The figure seemed to have no body and remained translucent.
He looked like a middle-aged man, very thin, and almost a complete skeletal frame could be seen on his body.
And there was an eye missing from his eye socket.
"Don't you want to continue reading such a great work?"
This middle-aged shadow looked at Wang Ye, his only remaining eye filled with madness.
With his appearance, the black candle in Wang Ye's hand increased its burning speed again, leaving only about half of it.
Half a meter around Wang Ye was filled with black smoke.
The figure seemed to like the smell of the black mist. He took a deep breath and enjoyed it very much.
This is...
That writer?
Sure enough, this guy is not dead in a certain sense!
Looking at his missing eye, Wang Ye judged his identity.
"But your so-called great work has already destroyed the city of Fengdu."
"Even the entire human race will be in danger."
Wang Ye's expression remained unchanged, and energy fluctuations emitted from his body, as if he might take action at any time.
The writer disagreed: "They are just some dull mortals who follow what others say. In just a few decades, such people will continue to be produced again."
"They are just like consumables, why should you care about their lives."
"It is their honor to be able to contribute their own efforts and make this great work appear!"
"This work will be famous throughout the ages!"
"And they will also be marked down by history books. This is the greatest value to them!"
"Only people like you and me deserve to live in this world, enjoying their worship like high-altitude gods!"
The writer's expression gradually became distorted, and his whole person was filled with an extremely crazy charm, with a sublime light in his eyes!
...
Wang Ye looked at the writer and frowned.
The scene before him made him feel extremely weird.
this...
wrong!
He survived in this writer's book for two days, and he could clearly feel the writer's disgust for God!
But now, he has assumed the identity of God.
If this is the case, it will have a huge conflict with the novel itself!
Every novel will have the author's own strong subjective opinions. If the author truly thinks like this, he will never be able to write such a scene.
And, most importantly...
The perspective of that book actually focuses on ordinary people, and the wars between the 'gods' in the sky are all briefly mentioned.
Now...
There are only two possibilities.
Or, the writer's spirit has been eroded and polluted by something he doesn't know about, leading to a drastic change in his character.
Either...
The guy in front of me is not a writer at all!
Thinking about it, Wang Ye simply ignored the lunatic in front of him and looked at the paper behind him.
Most of the text on the paper has been completely blurred, and only one name, still emitting a faint light, is clearly visible.
'A Nian! '
Who is this A Nian?
The main character in the book?
At this time, Wang Ye had a strong urge to return to the world in the book.
Vaguely, he suddenly felt that this might not be a simple novel, and it was definitely not as simple as imagined!
He even had some ideas that he wanted to verify in the novel world.
It's just that at this time, one third of the black wax in his hand has not been burned out.
and...
As he entered the pavilion and appeared in this strange position, the way out was gone.
so...
Is tearing up the paper with written words the only way to leave?
But in this case, those conjectures of my own will not be verified.
It seemed like I was in a retreat for a while!
The novelist was smiling foolishly, his one eye a little red, looking at Wang Ye.
"perhaps..."
"There is another solution."
"only..."
"It's time to gamble again..."
At this moment, Wang Ye's eyes brightened, with a madness far stronger than that of the writer!
