776: Chapter 357: That is the “Angel” (Add 1000 words) 776: Chapter 357: That is the “Angel” (Add 1000 words) “Dong!
Dong!
Dong…”
With the restart of his heart and the establishnt of his cognition, the “established fact” that his bones were crushed was overwritten by him.
He got up from the ground unhard and began to quickly look for Old Mo’s figure.
“I am in the Gallery!
I am with Old Mo!
I am in the Gallery, Old Mo is by my side!”
“I am in the Gallery!
I am in the Gallery…”
He rembered Old Mo’s instructions, did not use his Identity Anchor to locate himself, and only used the most basic way of anchoring – using Old Mo’s location to anchor himself.
This was an extrely irrational way of anchoring, because the farther one departs from the real Layers, the more difficult it is to anchor back, and the more conditions are needed.
Relying solely on “Gallery” and “Old Mo” is simply unrealistic.
But what if Old Mo himself was guiding him?
Bidirectional anchoring, as indestructible as iron chains.
Lin Yi soon saw Old Mo’s figure in the Grey Mist not far ahead.
“Old Mo…” he called out with difficulty.
“Hoo—”
The silhouette of Old Mo, broke through the Grey Mist to co in front of Lin Yi.
“Don’t worry, I am here.”
The dry and hoarse voice, yet it felt like a calming anchor in the vast sea.
He stretched out his hand to the staggering Lin Yi, giving off the impression of a white-bearded daze, afraid that his next words would be “be my son.”
Lin Yi was pulled up by Old Mo and stabilized, and quickly said: “Old Mo, I…”
“I know.” Old Mo seed very wary, quickly interrupting, “Don’t linger, leave first.”
Lin Yi knew how serious the situation was and hurriedly followed Old Mo deeper into the Gallery, but when he left, he realized that the little girl had already disappeared.
Yet, he still faintly heard the sound of the music box’s notes jumping and the little girl singing that dark nursery rhy in his ears.
“Ding dong ding ding…”
[Little children, playing hide and seek…]
“Dong ding dong…
ding ding dong dong…”
[…Sister’s waist is sore oh sore…]
“Ding ding dong dong…”
[Brother, brother, you’re so an~ laughing at sister’s blunt saw~]
[…]
He smoothed his arm and hastened his pace leaving this place.
And in the dark corner of the Gallery, a music box with its lid opened was slowly turning, the Grey Mist rolling, completely burying it.
…
May 10, 2023, 00:16, Art Building Gallery.
“Dut dut dut…”
The depths of the Gallery were nearly devoid of light, leaving only a series of muffled footsteps on the wooden floor and an occasional creaking noise.
Passing through the Gallery, Lin Yi saw a huge painting depicting a desolate graveyard, the tombstones skewed, the sky completely covered by dark clouds, and in front of the painting, the mist was denser, forming a human silhouette standing there, as if waiting for sothing.
As Lin Yi approached, the silhouette suddenly vanished, leaving only endless darkness and chilling coldness, terrifying to the core.
Not knowing how long he had run, Lin Yi felt groggy and noticed so moisture in the air, and the Grey Mist seed to be scattered a bit by this moisture.
“Klang klang klang!”
“Klang klang klang!!!”
At the end of the Gallery, a frantic knocking sound erged, as if sothing was pounding violently on the door.
Old Mo rushed over and opened the door.
“Bang!”
A massive storm pushed open the antique, rust-stained iron door, the torrential mist accompanied by the fierce storm forcefully poured into the Gallery.
The end of the Gallery tottered, like a fishing boat being lifted by a monster, the water vapor rushing in and almost sweeping Lin Yi away.
“Hoo hoo hoo—”
“Whirr whirr whirr—”
The venturi effect was pushed to its limit here, and the sound of waves crashing against the reefs was as ferocious as a mountain torrent.
Countless hands with sharp nails in that instant drilled in, fiercely clawing towards Old Mo and Lin Yi.
Old Mo growled and swung the Pig-killing Knife.
Not sure what Old Mo did, countless limbs with a stench of muddy matter, like dumping garbage, covered Lin Yi’s body, the disgusting sll causing nausea, as if dancing with chunks of at in minced at.
Suddenly a thunder tore the night sky, turning the whole world bleak white, and Lin Yi saw a horrifying scene.
The minced at, as he guessed, was indeed the Nocturnal species chopped up, being washed onto him by the storm, like rotten eggs and spoiled vegetable leaves soaked in swill, repulsive.
The only relief was that these chunks were petrifying at an extrely fast rate into sculptural fragnts, even those sticking to Lin Yi were quickly becoming dried powder.
Thunder roared unceasingly, the image before Lin Yi’s eyes switching back and forth between dim black and pure white, and the mont he burst out of the Gallery, a thick lightning tore the dark night sky, revealing a terribly horrifying scene at the Art Building.
There were densely packed Nocturnal species crawling over the exterior wall of the Art Building, their sheer number like groups of red crabs heading to sea on the beach, those heads continuously swarming, resembling each distinct berry on a mulberry, their limbs also swaying with movent, while emitting bubble-blowing-like sounds akin to crabs.
But their number was too vast and too dense, it was impossible to distinguish whose head or whose arm belonged to whom — even they themselves could not tell.
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