Chapter 309: Silver
In order to isolate each mber of the Dagger Squad one by one, Catherine specially ‘packaged’ and ‘separated’ all five iconic areas of Nightmare Town.
These included the town library where Magician Jia’en, Prophet Marko, and Martin were located (with space structure complexified) and the town hall where Romary Tahan, who had been skinned and turned into a puppet, was.
Additionally, there were three other areas, Hospital, Park, and Amusent Park.
…
Ti returned to the mont when Magician Jia’en threw his hat in the church,
The inventor of the dusk thin silver liquid, Doctor Macaul, had his thoughts completely captivated by the silvery-haired youth who passed by the door;
his thoughts seed to be pulled back to that night, the night of the double moons, which was also the turning point of his life.
“How is it possible… How could Lorrian be here?”
As he was stunned, the rapidly spinning top hat was already closing in. Instinctively trying to dodge, he instead moved closer to it.
Trap triggered~Buzz!
The spatial vortex ford by the top hat directly transported him to another nightmare space.
In the blink of an eye, he found himself in front of the gate to an old hospital. Coincidentally, the hospital building was very similar in style to the Twilight Clinic, also a three-story structure.
The operation of Nightmare Town still imitated scenes from real life. Due to the battle that erupted on the central street, the hospital was filled with an endless stream of patients that night.
Many townspeople were queuing in the hospital lobby for numbers, missing arms, legs, and even half of their brains,
Macaul sensed a hint of danger and conspiracy, unwilling to step foot inside, and turned to leave the area.
As he moved towards the street opposite the hospital, snap! He ran directly into an invisible wall.
Stepping back half a step, he allowed his right arm to turn completely silver, especially at the fingertips, and pointed out.
Buzz!
Faint ripples spread outwards with no sign of breaking through.
“So the space has been completely sealed off? It’s true that the Nightmare Origin might be able to do this.
However, fundantally, this dream should always be controlled by myself and the other death row inmates who are dreaming;
we should be the real masterminds behind the dream.
The nightmare should only be intervening from the side, deepening its interference as we delve further.
In theory, no matter what depth it reaches, the nightmare’s domination should not be able to reach 100%. As a dreaming subject, I should also have so authority over the dream control.
Let
try.”
The diminutive Doctor Macaul sat down cross-legged on the spot, slowly reaching up to his head, inserting his sharp nails into his scalp. He cracked open his skull, exposing his entire silver-coated brain.
Dispensing with the barrier of the skull, allowing direct contact between the brain and the dream.
He tried to sense the controllable parts of nightmare space, or existing loopholes, or possible exits from the current enclosed space.
Buzz!
At that mont, Macaul’s consciousness detached and followed the dream sensation to the hospital, quickly passing through the crowd to find a ward in the corner—Room 0330.
The key to escape might be hidden in this ward.
“I found it… Maybe I can directly leave this area and return to the church! If I can help Skin Stripping Spacy complete the skin transplant, this mission might just end smoothly, and I could regain my freedom.
Whether or not it’s Lorrian doesn’t matter. Even if it really is him, just kill him again.”
The thought of freedom made Macaul’s tongue start to curl.
He had even fantasized about restarting his dical research;
as long as it benefited his own research and innovations, he would still choose to use living people as raw material embryos.
Doctor Macaul closed his skull, sealing it with silver liquid,
Then he ran his fingers over his tongue, wet with saliva, and wiped the lenses nestled in his eye sockets clean.
He did not sneak in through the hospital’s main entrance, nor did he purposely go through that overcrowded lobby to avoid an onslaught by the nightmare creatures and stealth attacks by nightmares lurking in the shadows.
He directly climbed up the exterior wall of the hospital building, his fingers turned silver and easily dug into the wall surface, supporting his small body as he rapidly scaled up to the third floor.
Pushing open the unlocked window, he fell into ward 0330.
However,
What lay before him was just an ordinary six-person ward, with no signs of a suspected exit;
the six empty beds were symtrically arranged.
When Macaul tried to search the room more carefully,
suddenly, a patient appeared on one of the otherwise empty beds, concealed by a curtain. Judging by the silhouette projected, the person was wearing a hospital gown, with an IV bottle connected to their hand.
Macaul felt a wave of unease, this human silhouette was eerily familiar to him.
He slowly approached the bed, his skin and suit turning silver, forming a protective silver layer in preparation for any potential attacks.
His palm inched closer to the curtain,
and the mont he touched it… whoosh! He pulled it aside sharply!
There was no one on the bed;
what he had seen was just an illusion.
At that mont, the door to the ward opened without him noticing, and a silver-haired youth just happened to walk by outside.
“Are you the one playing tricks? Lorrian… skilled at creating illusions with the False Moon, it’s always been this way with you.”
No longer calm, Macaul quickly followed out of the ward in pursuit of the silver-haired youth.
Yet, the corridor was packed with odd-shaped patients, so even had their bodies stuck to the walls with IV drips.
Amid the crowd, he could vaguely see a head of silver hair moving away;
Macaul could even conjure up Lorrian’s full image in his mind, feeling as if he was being mocked.
Perhaps recalling how his painstakingly established Twilight Clinic was destroyed by Lorrian’s appearance,
or how he was about to realize mass production of the “Dusk thin silver liquid,” which might have rivaled the famous “Sun Secret dicine,” only to see it co to an abrupt end due to Lorrian’s arrival.
Or rembering the look of mockery on Lorrian’s face during their battle.
He even questioned if the battle was a deliberate ruse by Lorrian, who let himself be caught in the illusion to lose, allowing the gentleman’s troops to arrive and expose the true nature of the Twilight Clinic, branding him with the label of a silver demon and subjecting him to a ntal punishnt more agonizing than death.
Or perhaps it was Macaul who previously had willingly opened his own skull, leading to the direct invasion of the nightmare factor.
In that mont, he lost control.
The malignance within Macaul was completely unleashed,
as his “Joint Disease Psoriasis” was fully stimulated, inducing the onset of ankylosing spondylitis… Crack, crack – the spine in his back made cracking noises as the vertebrae stretched and began to grow.
Rip – the flesh tore.
In the end, Macaul’s body was torn into three parts at the neck and waist, strung together by his elongating spine.
His head was raised more than three ters high, with his torso roughly at the two-ter mark.
At the sa ti, his joints began to creak all over.
At the elbow, forked joints erged, giving rise to three distinct forearms, fingers multiplied in number, and the joints slowly evolved into the structure of silver surgical knives.
The moniker of the silver demon indeed originated from this form.
Chasing forward in such a monstrous shape, any nightmare patients who passed by him were dismbered, turning the entire hospital building into a slaughterhouse under Doctor Macaul’s dominion.
However, these slain nightmare patients imdiately turned into a dark mist after their death, converging and seeping down to the lower floors.
By the ti Doctor Macaul reached the ground floor, the silver-haired youth was standing, with his back towards him, in the middle of the lobby.
The nightmare aura from the slaughtered nightmare patients and dical staff also gathered here, all being absorbed by the silver-haired youth… Whoosh! Six tentacles burst out from the youth’s back due to overfeeding.
At that mont, the youth turned around, presenting a face that was unfamiliar.
“You’re not Lorrian… Who are you?”
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