It's not too much to say that a beauty is a little bit stronger

The look in Zhao Yihe's eyes when he looked at Qi Can became more and more crazy, which was very different from the image he maintained at the beginning.

Qi Can leaned over slightly and whispered in Zhao Yihe's ear:

"So what does he want you to believe?"

At the beginning, Zhao Yihe did not directly answer Qi Can's first question, and Qi Can did not forget this question.

Zhao Yihe's Adam's apple moved up and down. For some reason, for a moment, he felt that Qi Can was staring at him, as if he wanted to see through him.

Sure enough, he said the same thing as Xiao Huai.

Not an ordinary person.

When Zhao Yihe listened to Xiao Huai's analysis of Qi Can, he had already become suspicious of Qi Can.

At the beginning of the game, Qi Can appeared as a victim and presented the image of a weak person.

I don't know if he wants people to let down their guard, or if he just personally prefers this kind of disguise.

This is already the thirteenth level of the game copy. Anyone who can get here is an extraordinary person.

If there really is a lucky person, he or she may not be an innocent and kind person. Perhaps the lucky person's heart is darker than anyone else.

Zhao Yihe took a deep breath, his voice slightly hoarse: "He made me believe that he was a god, and only by killing the god can the rules of the game be broken."

After the words fell, Qi Can was stunned for a moment.

After a long moment, he asked, "Did he really say that?"

Zhao Yihe nodded and carefully observed Qi Can's reaction.

Qi Can turned around and sighed, "No wonder you refused. He's a complete lunatic."

After saying that, Qi Can passed by Zhao Yihe and walked out.

Only after he completely disappeared from Zhao Yihe's sight did a crazy smile appear on the corner of his mouth.

Killing God?

He wants to kill God?

Do not make jokes.

----

vigil.

The distant bells rang, and the night vigil had begun.

Xiao Huai's legs were bound by the white bones, and his whole body was buried deep among those eerie white bones.

Originally, he had his eyes closed, as if everything had nothing to do with him.

However, suddenly, he slowly opened his eyes, and a sharp, cold light flashed in his red eyes.

In an instant, the bones that were entangled and bound him made a hissing sound and were quickly corroded by some liquid.

When night falls, why not take advantage of the Moon Goddess's blessing?

Xiao Huai regained his freedom and stood up from the bones, turning his wrist slightly with calm movements.

He looked down at the scattered bones, his eyes moving slightly.

As soon as he entered this area, he smelled a strong smell of medicine. So where did this smell come from?

Following his feeling, he soon found the source of the smell.

From a skeleton.

And that skeleton was completely different from the others.

The skeleton is located in the center, with hands clasped together in a solemn posture, as if in some kind of pious prayer.

Only the white bones were green in color, as if the medicine had penetrated deep into the bones.

Xiao Huai walked forward and locked his eyes on the skeleton.

At this moment, he stretched out his hand and his fingertips touched the cold bone surface of the skeleton.

And the moment he touched it, angry roars suddenly rang out all around!

The resentment of the deceased transformed into a black mist, surging into Xiao Huai's eyes. His vision blurred, and then his consciousness became blurred, and he fell into a strange illusion.

He saw certain scenes, cruel and ruthless.

The stories of the dead gradually emerged in his mind.

"Snapped!"

Following the sound of the slap, Xiao Huai saw a man severely punishing a teenager.

The voice was filled with anger and disappointment: "Who allowed you to write these things? Repent before the Lord now!!"

A tall man in a black priest's robe roughly dragged a young boy towards the church.

Every step the man took was filled with intimidation, and his boots stomped heavily on the ground, making a dull "thump thump" sound.

The boy was like a puppet with its strings cut, being dragged along, his legs weakly sliding across the ground, leaving trails of mud.

He held the notebook tightly in his arms with both hands, as if he was grabbing the last piece of driftwood in his life.

There was only a crooked smiling face on the cover of the notebook, but it did not convey any sense of happiness. Instead, it expressed a paleness that was suppressed to the extreme.

The man roughly pushed the church door open with a loud bang, and the echo lingered in the empty church for a long time.

The man suddenly threw the boy to the ground. The boy fell heavily on the cold stone slab, his body curled up into a ball. He should have been in so much pain that it was difficult for him to breathe, but he didn't say a word.

His hands were still tightly holding the notebook, as if the notebook was his only salvation.

The man leaned over, his face full of coldness and disgust. He snatched the boy's notebook, threw it to the ground without hesitation, and then stepped on it hard.

Dirty mud and dust left dirty marks on the paper, and the original smiling face was deformed and distorted, as if silently mocking the boy's powerlessness.

The man grabbed the boy's hair, forced him to look up, and said coldly: "You shouldn't waste your time on this kind of thing, do you understand?"

There were only a few candles burning weakly in the church, and the light was dim.

The young man was forced to raise his head, his face pale from the pain. In this scene, his features were blurred, as if deliberately hidden, leaving only that pair of... inky eyes.

Even though his facial features were blurred, Xiao Huai still recognized at a glance that these were Lu Yuanshi's eyes.

But only the eyes are similar; the feeling he gives people is very different.

Very strange.

That feeling doesn't seem like Lu Yuanshi.

Perhaps in response to Xiao Huai's guess, the facial features of the boy in the illusion gradually became clearer.

The young Lu Yuanshi had a cold expression on his face, without any sign of begging for mercy.

After a moment, the man let go.

He knelt on the cold ground, his eyes still following the notebook that was stepped on the ground, trying to reach out and pick it up in his arms.

But what followed his action was a merciless and heavy slap from the man.

"Snapped!"

The crisp sound of a slap echoed in the church. The already thin body shook slightly because of the slap, and a bright red palm print immediately appeared on the cheek.

He did not cry or beg.

The man didn't stop. He bent down again, picked up the notebook, and tore it hard, tearing the pages into pieces, letting the pieces of paper fly in the air like insignificant dust.

His face was twisted with anger, and his whole face looked ferocious in the candlelight. He stared at the young man in front of him with gritted teeth, his voice cold and harsh.

"Little ungrateful bastard!"

His voice echoed off the high walls of the church, stirring up waves of echoes.

The man suddenly stretched out his hand and pointed at the statue, the anger in his eyes burning like flames, as if to reduce everything to ashes.