Restricted Doomsday Syndrome

Ordinary storage room, the size of two beds side by side. There are wall calendars of beautiful beach models on the wall. In addition, brooms, mops, garbage shovel, flush hoses, air fresheners, and other categories are placed in their respective positions. There is a metal cabinet filled with advertising paper from the shop, which contains several sets of cleaners and a yellow magazine at the bottom.

I picked up the yellow magazine, a foreign publication that I had never seen before.

Before this, the biggest magazine I have ever seen is a photo shoot in the darkest corner of a small bookstore. The pretending pose of a woman bathed in a swimsuit makes her heart beat and blush. But the ones in front of me are bolder, more delicate, and pay more attention to the curves and secrets of the body.

I am a magnificent stuffed magazine into the armor.

Other than that, there is nothing special at first glance.

But the hat man came out from here. This is not a place to live, and he is not a cleaner.

According to structural science, if there is any mechanism, it must be something that is not easy to move.

Or those objects that can move easily at a glance, but are actually limited to a certain track.

I opened all the cabinets and groped for the protrusions. Step on each piece of wooden floor hard. Move everything that seems to be removable to the other side.

When trying to remove the calendar, it was found that it was not hung on the wall, but the back and the wall were glued together.

I touched the calendar from top to bottom by hand.

Found a slight bump on the left chest of the beautiful beach model.

Is not the original calendar.

I turn the current page. On the next page, the position with the unevenness is the left eye of another model.

This eye looks like a picture at first, but as long as the angle is changed, with the help of light, you can see the non-paper gloss.

A cat-like lens.

I put my eyes together and saw the sign of the golden section of the Goat Guild's demon appearing across the left lens.

But if you just look, it has no effect.

I tried to press hard.

A sense of embedding with weak elasticity.

A slight motor sound came from the air window, and the room shook and started to move down.

The speed gradually increased, with a slight sense of weightlessness.

So it turned out.

The storage room itself is an elevator leading to a hidden basement.

While the room was empty, I rearranged my weapons, unloaded the clips of the collected pistols, and then threw away the empty guns, leaving only two pistols.

About five seconds, the weightlessness disappeared quickly, as if the floor was pressing against the foot.

Arrived.

I was about to open the red door, and suddenly something caught my ankle.

Heart beats sharply.

But the brain does not produce a current of fear.

As if the emotional and physical reactions have been cut apart.

What grabbed me has more power than ordinary adults.

Howling sound came from below, there was a sense of familiarity.

I turned my head and looked down, the dead man in uniform twisted like a spasm, grabbed my ankle, and pulled up the shell that had lost his ankle. His facial features were twisted and bleeding, and his strange smile seemed to be rigid on his face, as if he could feel my sight, and opened his mouth like ridicule.

Like the dislocation of the lower jaw, he splayed it and bit it up.

Although there was no substantial injury through the shoes, my heart beat even more disappointedly. I swayed my legs and tried to shake it off, but he held it tightly, biting on the shoes, and didn't mean to let go. I kicked his head with the other foot, but even if my face was broken, I couldn't stop it.

Extraordinary strength, not afraid of pain, just like an unconscious machine, persevering and monotonous. Only one word can describe the existence of this alien—the walking dead.

The last words of the hat man were at least right.

His body was resurrected.

Is this the sequelae of taking the paradox "paradise"?

Remembered his obsessive ecstasy before his death, and his mood calmed down, but he couldn't help but feel compassion. What an ugly and sad gesture this is.

He said he saw a demon.

This is really a gift from the devil.

I pulled a gun to shoot its head, there is no significant effect, even if a hole is made in the head shell, the monster that has lost all the brain plasma will not stop moving.

I pulled out the dagger, pressed down on its head, and completely cut off the neck and neck.

The body that lost his head finally subsided, then turned to ashes and collapsed inward with a deflated voice. Then it turned into a hovering gray mist and flew into my palm.

I stared at the gray stone in my palm and put it in my pocket.

Holding the pistol, pushed open the red door.

Greeted us with a rather spacious auditorium. The huge murals spread from the four walls to the zenith. If the focus is on the details, it is like a list of individual paintings, but all of them are in the eyes, but strangely constitute a magnificent piece of this one.

That was the scene where the ancients greeted the end.

Kneel down, weep, fight, die.

Changeable human body, charge knight, and sheep head demon with trident and back wings.

The clock made of eyes, the desert on the huge body, the head made of limbs.

Unparalleled shock and weirdness.

Idol is not a human or a demon, but an object that looks like a cross and a swastika. The red carpet extended from my feet to the preaching platform. Rows of benches are arranged in a fan shape, and the heads are all crows.

A boy who looked about my age, dressed in a priesthood, led the crowd to pray after the sermon. They prayed in a language I had never heard of before, and the pendulous head was pious, as if unaware of the intruder.

"Blood flesh is like grass and trees, glory is like epiphyllum, grass will wither, flowers will wither, but death is not the end, just as truth will last forever."

Father ended in a language that I could understand and looked up at me.

I think I read it right.

Is that student named Luan Zhong.

His unforgettable backwaters are generally empty and blank eyes, UU reading books www.uukanshu.com in the background of the black priest costume, exudes a strange and peaceful temperament.

It seemed that the whole air became very clear.

Is so clear that there is no fighting.

Is so clear that there are no impurities.

Is so clear that there is no life.

Is more pure than death.

Is pure as if it can completely dissolve everything in the world.

"Who are you? The visitor." Despite being pointed at me by the gun, he still said in a very calm tone.

He is not afraid of me. This is a matter of course. Here is his territory. There are dozens of believers between me and him turning back to stare at me.

Are all hat men in uniform, but the hats rest on their respective thighs.

The hostile sight seemed to scorch the air.

In response, I took the trigger without turning back.

The loud gunshots echoed in the auditorium. Suddenly, the scorching air caused disturbance. The believers stood up one after another, and some even rushed towards the preaching tower reflectively, but their priests did not need protection.

He didn't even tilt his head, aimed at the bullet in the eyebrow, and passed away, taking away a few strands of hair, hitting the metal statue with a clear voice.

I did not intentionally miss the shot, nor did I think it was a mistake.

I saw very clearly, the bullet suddenly slipped when approaching him, and deviated from the track.

Is really lucky, no one here is afraid of ordinary pistol bullets.

I heard the hoarse voice of the murderer Takagawa.

"Say hello."

Reciprocity, the priest Luan raised his right hand calmly.

Brush brush——

Dozens of black holes pointed at me like horse honeycombs.

"Shooting."