Dow and Carbon-Based Monkey Breeding Guidelines

Chapter 633 A Wish That Must Be Fulfilled

In fact, he was watching from the sidelines.

From the first three targets running onto the platform, one of them hid, the other two fought each other, and then three more came.Another new argument and persuasion.

Now, he can both hear and see.In this little wonderland surrounded by death wishes, he can see everything that's going on.Maybe it's because he's doing something - "being" is a rare thing for him.In most cases, he only has "doing" and "done".When he wanted to end something, it was simply a thought, as simple as blowing out a candle in one breath.The work could not have lasted very long.

But this time is very long.Or rather, he was doing it over and over again, over and over again.I don't know how many times he thought he had succeeded, but the red color seeped out from nothingness, like a blood hole that couldn't be plugged.In the shadowy river, he could feel the bloodstained forest thing watching him from the chaos, appearing and disappearing, disappearing and reappearing.A lingering illusion, but one that does bloom with the flower of life.A bait disguised as a brightly colored butterfly fluttered brightly in front of his eyes.He shot and threw it over and over, sure he had smashed it, but couldn't make it disappear.Over and over again, until the forest is full of missed arrows and blades.They will not disappear until the task is completed.

No one can break into this forest of swords and swords.It is his gaze, his sight, his desire.He's been up to no good for so long—unless life escapes him.That was by no means a direct confrontation, but a clever escape from the search.

But this time things are special.He finally noticed after many attempts.This time is extra special.Somehow, this cunning butterfly managed to counteract his work.He can't think about other things, other goals, other techniques, he's forgotten all about them long ago, and the only thing he can do is go on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on throwing the next throwing knife forever.What if this never works?The idea never crossed his mind.He doesn't take pleasure in success, and naturally, doesn't get angry or chafed at failure.He just keeps implementing it.

A strange phenomenon is that when he keeps trying and accomplishing the same goal, the confusion in his perception tends to subside a little--that is not a "cure", definitely not a cure for the disease, But he was like a person born with distorted bones who was forcibly twisted. Before the power to correct him disappeared, he walked and looked at the world like an "ordinary person" in great pain.It's not a cure, it's not a rehabilitation, it's quite the opposite -- it's some sort of repression, some attempt to transform him into form.When he can realize this, it means that he may have been influenced by the other party.

But that's okay.Apart from his one and only job, nothing about himself mattered anymore.He peered out with his reawakened senses, as utterly objective as a panorama video camera in action.

He observed the outside world like a panoramic video recorder, observing the phantom of blood, and the only remaining island.A territory not yet invaded by the arrows of death.He didn't intend to leave this isolated island—all life that appeared here should be terminated, and he didn't care to slightly reverse the order of disappearance, but something restricted it.A colored light, or a curtain of flowing fog, isolates the isolated island from the center of the sword forest.When he wanted to focus on a certain person in the isolated island, the image of the other person disintegrated in the rippling neon lights and turned into blurred spots of light.

That is a protection.He soon understood.A curtain shut out his view.A wish to escape death.It was not sight or air it cut off, but something like his sight that beckoned death.

But that can be broken.He can feel it.That curtain didn't confuse him like the blood-red butterfly fluttering in the deep forest.It was just some solid desire, and if he searched really hard, he could always find a way to see the life behind the curtain.He didn't do that, because the other method was obviously simpler and more in line with his simple pursuit: kill the holder of this wish.

He is doing it.He is doing it.again and again.The flower of life extinguishes here and blooms there.The job is endless, so he never has to rush.He'll never really get the job done unless...

The dispute on the island is over.He heard the last words from the man standing under the golden bell.The content of the words is irrelevant.He could understand that language, he knew it, and that language was just within the scope of what he had known in life.But to him it was no different from the sound of wind or water.It's the noise of life in action, and it doesn't matter if you hear it or not.He also saw bright silver light, as light and pure as a feather; a small fuzzy shadow slyly hidden in the optical illusion, its steps and eyes were familiar to him.

The last shadow with horns caught his attention the most.The shadow itself was nothing unusual, but she wore two special things around her waist.One was very familiar to him, and the other was very bright and dazzling.

what is that?He wanted to make it clearer.But he couldn't look too intently.The curtain hindered him, so he could only vaguely realize that the thing was very small, and the dots of vermilion were connected together like flowers on the vine.But those vermilion and cold flowers also exude a warm breath of life, of blessing and protection, coiled around the waist of the horned shadow.Its breath is so similar to the person he is killing, so he also wants to destroy it, turning every bright red petal into a withered gray-black.

The man with horns walked under the golden bell.The person who was standing under the golden bell gave way to her. More precisely, he seemed to be inviting her to come under the golden bell.He handed over the position of the absolute center to the horned person and asked her to make a wish.

Please tell me the wish you just made.The abdicator did demand so.The rest looked surprised.Even the blood-red butterfly flying in the forest seemed to be attracted.But he didn't stop.He just heard it, but he didn't think about the meaning of these words.He stared deeply again, bringing tranquility to the turbulent life.

The red butterfly sank and seemed to disappear transparently, but immediately took off high again.The man with horns asked: Me?
--yes.It must be you.

--why?I'm not good at the wish machine language.

- Your wish must be granted.This is an important prerequisite.

The man with horns walked under the golden bell.She hesitated, but saw no harm in her wish.So she stretched out her hand towards Jin Ling.The red butterfly floats up and down in the forest.

The cunning fluffy shadow suddenly moved, sneaking towards the central area.Its sharp claws protruded from the furry front paws, and its fangs protruded from the soft cheeks.The way it hunted reminded him of prey that had to be killed.

I make a wish.said the man with the horns.She paused, as if thinking.I wish that the one who gave me the Silence--

The hunter threw his claws fiercely at her.

(End of this chapter)