AWB Chapter 38
Chapter 38
With his last strength, Fu Zhao raised his head to look at the pair of metallic gray eyes, holding the bow tie in a daze and murmured: "I... go there?"
The shrunken version of Sherlock gradually let go of his hand due to loss of strength, so he could only nod his head vigorously. He could still see his former appearance in his fierce eyes.
Fu Zhao's attention was instantly occupied by him, whether it was the burning magma under his feet or the sharply painful wound gradually blurred, only those eyes continued to expand and occupy the entire field of vision...
Then, he stood on the flat ground.
One moment was still filled with suffocating sulfur-smelling hell, and the next second it turned into a quiet library, with no transition between scenes.
Sherlock returned to his original appearance, with a windbreaker wrapped around his tall and thin body, and he was putting a thick book back on the shelf. He glanced at him and turned his head.
... The dream is really amazing.
"I'm still alive?" Fu Zhao rubbed his eyes and lowered his head to find that he was back to normal, and immediately touched his upper body happily, "The wound disappeared..."
Freddy's iron claw gloves were exceptionally sharp. At that time, in order not to fall into hell, they directly penetrated his abdomen and clung to his internal organs.
If it weren't for Article 59 of the second part of the "Instructions for Villains" manual, which says, "A villain with style will never cry out for pain when he is seriously injured", Fu Zhao would have passed out long ago wailing and cursing!
And now the clothes didn't show any damage, as if he wasn't hurt at all.
Sherlock said lightly in the floating scent of books and ink: "It would have disappeared, it was just your dream, as long as you don't die, it won't manifest into reality."
With lingering fear in his heart, Fu Zhao pulled open the neckline and looked in, and he was completely relieved after confirming that he was completely cured: "If I knew it, wouldn't it be fine if you just gave me the bow tie, how much less pain can I suffer by leaving that nightmare... What a pain." But you elites, in order to appear smart, always throw straws at the last moment."
"That bow tie... I lied to you. As long as you give a suitable reason, it can affect your subconscious mind. You believe that you can enter my dream under its guidance, so it came true." Sherlock walked to another row of bookshelves, After the explanation, he began to attack him, "In the final analysis, it is because you have no self-control that you are still at a disadvantage in the dream dominated by yourself."
After the brainwaves are consistent with those of the sleeping person, you can sneak your thoughts into other people's dreams. When Sherlock appeared in the playground, he couldn't even control the body he used. How could he carry things from other dreams?
Fortunately, Fu Zhao would not suspect this kind of lie, he really believed that the bow tie torn from his neck could lead him to a safe place at the very moment.
Wuliangye was taught a lesson. He touched his pocket and found that the bag of spicy strips had also disappeared. He looked around regretfully: "So this is your dream... the library? It fits your personality but it's really boring. I'll go find it. Looking for "Shounen Jump", what are you going to do next?"
The circular space in which it is located is so high that there is no ceiling, but soft orange lights are pouring from above. Rows of bookshelves extend upwards along the spiral staircase. empty.
"Now I'm in a deep sleep and can't wake up on my own. I can only wait for the alarm clock I set the time before." Sherlock stepped on the soft crimson carpet and explained a little perfunctorily, "There are no comics here, and it's not a library, but mine. Temple of thought."
Fu Zhao pulled out the book with a dazed expression, flipping it open: "The Hall of Thought..."
Sherlock took the book in his hand and threw it into the trash can at his feet: "Or the memory palace. I put all the things that need to be remembered in the space established in the spiritual world, and when I use it, I will directly Just come in and look for it, so you won’t forget any details.”
It's probably equivalent to materializing the memories in my mind. Every bit of knowledge I have mastered appears here as books, neatly arranged by category.
The knowledge stored in this row of bookshelves is related to astronomy, and some titles are so difficult to read.
Fu Zhao's constellation knowledge is relatively rich, and he used to organize paid astrolabe approval activities before, and he hardly knows serious astronomy, so he bypassed the trash can on the ground: "Then why did you throw away your memory?"
"I want to add some content about the Pluto controversy. Although every detail will come in handy, occasionally I will remember completely useless knowledge. It is very necessary to streamline the thinking hall regularly." Sherlock glanced at the bookshelf He paused, switched the order of the two books, tore off a page and threw it away.
The round trash can is always at my feet, and no matter how many things are thrown in, it is always half full.
Look at how much people control their dreams...
Fu Zhao sighed for a while, then lost interest, and followed Sherlock step by step to look left and right. Anyway, he couldn't understand the books inside. After the crisis was over, it was enough to wait for the alarm clock to wake him up.
"This book has my name written on it!" Fu Zhao reached out to take down a moderately thick paperback book from another high shelf, opened the front page and glanced at it. His information was recorded on it, from height to age, it was very clear.
Sherlock grabbed it and threw it behind him without even looking at it. The book hit the trash can with a bang.
"Hey, hey, don't throw it away!" Fu Zhao immediately rushed to save the book, "You won't remember me!"
Sherlock stood in front of him, and the trash can for useless knowledge gradually disappeared: "This is the useless memory I just mentioned."
"I really hate you more and more..." Seeing that there was no hope of rescue, Fu Zhao turned around resentfully, planning to push down a row of bookshelves and throw them into the trash can when it appeared later.
Looking at his dejected back, Sherlock showed a successful mischievous smile, bent down when Fu Zhao was not paying attention, appeared at hand, and put the memory about Fu Zhao back on the bookshelf.
Fu Zhao was weighing which bookshelf, and suddenly found a strange book on a high place on the upper floor, and took it down: "What is this? There is no classification at all, so is it useless?"
Unlike the materials with titles, this book is completely black and has no notes. It looks like a thin volume, but it is heavy in the hand.
Sherlock's relaxed smile immediately froze on his face, and he strode forward to close the black book before he opened it: "You can't open it."
"Really? It's a pity that I have already read it, and the content is good." A gloomy voice sounded, and a face burned to the point of disfigurement was squeezed out from the place where Fu Zhao had just picked up the book.
Freddy!
Fu Zhao is now in a healthy state, he flew up and hit his head reflexively, kicking Freddy's face back quickly: "Are you still alive?"
"Hey hey..." Freddy's face was distorted and sunken by the kick, and he was still laughing, and an unknown green liquid dripped from the corner of his mouth, staining the books below.
The falling liquid dyed those memories black, and the darkness as thick as the night quickly spread around it, quickly soaking the library-like memory palace!
All the books have turned into that black booklet, and the warm light shines in the dark space, which looks very strange.
Freddy laughed wildly with his deformed face, and an eyeball with a protruding socket stared at the talisman: "Hahahaha, you haven't gotten rid of me at all! Come on! Let's see what Mr. Holmes' secret is... "
A strong wind suddenly blows in the room, and the bookshelf trembles with unidentified black booklets, and the sound of pages turning makes people disturbed.
Fu Zhao wrinkled his face in the wind and covered his hands in front of him. A piece of paper was suddenly covered on his face, and he opened his eyes subconsciously to wipe it off.
"Close your eyes!" Sherlock's cold command sounded in his ear, before he tore off the paper and threw it into the strong wind.
But that one second was enough to see the content above.
It should be a newspaper, most of the typefaces are blurred, only the bold bold headline is particularly obvious: "Senseless to lose the light of darkness? Evidence exposed that Sherlock Holmes secretly facilitated crimes in London..."
Freddy stuffed the protruding eyeballs back, and moved his jaw to repair his face: "My strength has already increased to this level, how about my dear, am I still dreaming of waking up?"
The gust of wind was getting stronger and stronger, and tens of thousands of papers swept up to cover all the light, completely destroying this space.
Sherlock stared at all this stiffly, and the voice came through the chaotic wind very clearly: "Do you still believe me... No, no matter how you answer, I don't care."
Before Fu Zhao had time to speak, he heard the sound of something breaking, and then the surrounding darkness was torn to pieces like a curtain, and the bookshelves and the strong wind disappeared, revealing the suffocating blood-red reality.
"Welcome to...my dream." Freddy's arms were spread out at his side, revealing a hellish version of the playground behind him.
The cockpit of the Ferris wheel is a ferocious horned demon head, and the humanoid corpse is twisted into a wooden horse shape and rotates on the base with music.
Fortunately, this time, Sherlock didn't shrink.
But in this dream that was not under his control, any suggestion was useless, and the scrawny evil ghost was the dominant one.
Fu Zhao lightly kicked away a few ball-shaped eyeballs that rolled to his feet, and asked Freddy in disgust: "...Is there any ice cream?"
"Of course." Freddy nodded seriously, grabbed the sticky dark green ice cream with his left hand in the void, "Do you want a bite?"
Fu Zhao frowned and stepped back again and again, almost falling because of the eyeballs that stepped on the ground: "No, no, keep it for yourself, I'm not hungry."
"Then I ate...uh! Cough cough cough cough!" Freddy swallowed a mouthful of ice cream with weird ingredients with a distorted smile, but suddenly coughed!In disbelief, he said to himself, "This is my dream, why am I still choking!"
Sherlock patted Fu Zhao on the shoulder without any surprise, and replied calmly: "Maybe because you are a bad guy who is committing crimes."