The time came a few minutes ago.
While the hunter was talking to the intelligence dealer, Gongsun Ce was staring at the table in the study room on the second floor in a daze.
There are three things on the desk: a note, a scroll, and a small box as big as the palm of your hand.
The superpower first picked up the note, and on the paper he tore off was someone's cursive handwriting.
[Extract it with a syringe and insert it into your chest. You decide whether to use it or not. 】
"...Do I have a choice?"
Gongsun Ce opened the small box. There was a syringe lying in the box, which looked exactly like a common syringe in the hospital.
He stared at the sharp needle for two seconds, then let the scroll float out of thin air and unfold it in front of him.
What unfolds as the shaft falls is an ink painting splashed on rice paper. The painting is not as majestic as the popular impression, but instead gives people a sense of smallness and exquisiteness. There are no mountains, flowing water, flowers, birds and animals in the painting, only the images of sharp swords one after another.
There are long swords, daggers, traditional one-handed swords, stabbing swords used by nobles, giant swords in the hands of warriors, and knights' heavy swords that he has seen before... Each of these black sword pictures is exquisitely painted and detailed. It is solid and should be regarded as a masterpiece when taken out alone, but when arranged on the paper, there is no order at all. It is like a talented painter who was interested but rushed to meet the deadline, picked up the brush and splashed ink, and drew Such a beautiful and messy sword drawing is hastily finished.
Gongsun Ce stared at the syringe, then looked back at the sword diagram, and said a few words through his teeth: "No way?"
If only the information dealer could have a friend here to answer the call, it was a pity that the owner of the study was still talking to the hunter downstairs at the moment, and no one could make a few witty remarks.
He took a second to convince himself, and then pressed the needle against the center of the scroll.
At the same time as he made this action, the sword on the painting moved.
The black weapons turned around on the painting and thrust towards the needle tip like a charge. The sharp swords on the two-dimensional plane cannot hurt the three-dimensional syringe. They were shattered into pieces in this unintentional collision and turned into large or small ink beads, flowing upstream along the hollow needle head and rushing into the void. In the needle tube of something.
In less than half a minute, there was no trace of black on the scroll, and the syringe in Gongsun Ce's hand was filled with ink.
"...Think of the bright side and just refill the ink...in your heart instead of your stomach."
Gongsun Ce took a few deep breaths and tried to relieve his tension. After pulling up his clothes and aiming at the heart, he inserted the needle.
Before he could press the piston, the black ink that was once a sharp sword rushed into his body.
"!"
He slowly took a few steps back, sat down with his back against the wall, and pulled out the needle with trembling hands.
The next second, Gongsun Ce's heart stopped beating.
The feeling was unexpectedly not painful, but it was indescribable in every aspect.
Something that had always been inside the body, an organ that had been beating since birth, stopped.
The changes in his body affected his spirit. He felt that his thoughts were restrained and he was sinking in his body. As if being pulled by the gravity of the body, it fell all the way to the heart, reaching a place that is more important than the brain where memories are stored.
In a daze, Gongsun Ce remembered the words he heard today.
The heart is the core of a superpower.
Does this sentence refer to an organ in the body, or a realm that exists only in the mind?
if the latter one.
If human beings really have a heart.
Then what he perceives may be the depth of his soul.
"Too bad..."
Gongsun Ce's eyes widened and he tried to find something to divert his attention in the study, but he couldn't help but groan.
He couldn't see clearly what was around him.
The gray mist that only exists in imagination obscures the vision, making everything hazy, like a scene from a nightmare coming back again.
He had to close his eyes.
So the process of falling continued. He found himself stepping into lightless darkness, somewhere that did not exist in reality. The place was pitch black and nothing could be seen clearly.
It took him a long time to get used to it, and it seemed like hours before he could finally see something.
He saw the outlines of countless sharp swords.
The black swords that merged with the lightless land flew forward, flying deeper into the land he saw.
Deeper than the darkness, at the bottom of an unknown number of layers, something extremely sharp existed here.
That's where the Black Swords fly.
They disappeared in the deepest part, and disappeared when they were about to come into contact with the thing. Only then did a bright light finally appear in his field of vision.
The disappearing light of the black sword reflected some outline of that thing.
Compared to the whole picture, it's just a very small part. What was revealed in the fleeting light were sharp lines and twisted black thorns. To him, they looked like twisted crosses...
At this time, the unexplained feeling of whereabouts finally disappeared. The bound thoughts flew away, and the image of the lightless land faded in my heart.
"call……"
Gongsun Ce opened his eyes, and everything in the real world was as usual.
There was no gray fog or weird blackness, just a young man wearing glasses leaning against the wall to confirm whether his heart was still beating normally.
The beating in his chest was as constant as ever, as if all the previous feelings were all illusions and dreams.
"Yan Qi, you bastard. You forgot to write down how uncomfortable this thing will be after you use it."
There was an unscrupulous man smiling unbridled in his mind, and he could almost imagine what the other person would say.
Ha, what do your feelings have to do with me? As long as the stuff works!
He wanted to punch the man in his imagination a few times, but he was the only one in the world who didn't have the position to do this.
Gongsun Ce stood up from the ground, quickly packed away the things on the table, and then walked to the bathroom on the second floor, observing his own image in the mirror.
After confirming that he looked the same as usual, he walked down the stairs and was momentarily speechless by the four rising walls.
The superpower knocked on the heavy metal wall like a door: "Hello, are you there?"
He waited for more than a minute before the soundproof wall was finally raised. The intelligence dealer in the living room was smiling and said: "...Miss Adar, thank you for your hard work. I am still checking the specific location of the person in the middle. I just talked to you The person mentioned will arrive at the sewage treatment plant in this area in about fifteen minutes, you can still go there by pigeon now."
"Thank you for your help. You really don't need payment?"
The obese young man shook his head repeatedly.
"Ace introduced you, how can I charge a fee?"
The superpower pushed up his glasses: "Mr. Mo gave me such a big favor, which makes me feel embarrassed. I'll treat you to a salad next time."
"No, I'd rather be fat than eat grass. How about the new painting I received?"
"My evaluation is that it is a beautifully decorated rag, and the artist's annotations are the finishing touch, perfectly expressing the person's self-righteous arrogance."
"You are so emotional, can you give me some professional evaluation?"
"I'm not an art major, so I don't know anything about it, so I can only express my own opinions."
Alice interjected curiously: "What kind of painting is it?"
"A sword picture specially drawn by a middle-aged amateur painter who is not doing his job in order to show off his little ink to his students."
"Why……"
In the hunter's specially prolonged sigh, Gongsun Ce said goodbye to his friend.
The tipster gave a thumbs up. He didn't get up to see the guests off, but sat on the sofa and watched them leave his house.
Now there is no other person in the room.
Mo Yuankai drank the last bit of Coke. He picked up the round can and rubbed the surface of the can with his fat fingers. The metal container glowed in his palm.
The red and blue round can changed its shape in the dim light, from a cylinder to a cuboid. Then, a small part of the cuboid protruded upward and was divided into several pieces of equal size. All the paint on the can receded. Towards the back of the palm, leave only a little white on the small square on the front to draw the number symbols.
Only halfway through, the light in his hand dissipated, the distortion of the can stopped, and the thing lying in the intelligence dealer's hand looked like an unfinished old-fashioned mobile phone.
He carefully tried two or three more times before finally completing the phone in the light that kept lighting up and dimming.
Mo Yuankai smacked his lips: "This is enough for me to make two phone calls."
He pointed the mobile phone he made at the trash can, hesitated for a few times, and took back the work he was about to throw away.
"Oh, what a waste of time."
The intelligence dealer entered a string of numbers, and the screen of his mobile phone, which was just a Coke can, lit up.
He waited patiently. After the prompt tone "The number you dialed is unavailable" was repeated several times, the call was connected.
"Hello, Mr. Yan? I'm Mo Yuankai."
"His reaction after receiving the stuff? I don't think he was happy. What did you tell him? ... Tell him to die? Mr. Yan, let me tell you the truth, you are really excusable for being scolded."
A burst of laughter came from the other end of the phone, laughing like a gangster holding a bottle of wine on the street and chatting and farting with his companions.
"They are going to the sewage treatment plant now. Do you know the way?...Have you asked locals for help? Don't involve ordinary students!...Okay, I won't ask, you are an expert....I leave it to you."
With these words to end the conversation, he squeezed his hands. When he let go of his hand, the phone he was still using had turned back into a squashed can.
Mo Yuankai threw away the can and pressed the button on the remote control.
The photo on the big screen disappeared.
The obese young man's appearance was reflected in the black screen.
"Killing one, beheading half... it's not the end after all, it's back so soon."
The information dealer looked at himself on the screen and muttered to himself on the sofa, wondering what he was thinking.
"Come on, A Ce, I believe in you. Let's settle the matter."
