Endless Debt.

Chapter 138 Prisoners

The warm sun shines, and the warmth fills every inch of Bologo's skin. It has been too long since he has been in the sun, and every time he is in the sun, Bologo will feel a little strange, and even resist.

Obviously, Bologo is a nocturnal creature. Although he has a good schedule and goes to bed early and wakes up early, after staying in the dark prison for so long, he has already merged with the darkness and broke with the light.

Such a sunbath is rare, but after enjoying the glow, Bologo still prefers Opals, where the gloom and cold belong to Bologo's territory.

Sitting on the bench, there was no one around. In the past few days in the frontier nursing home, unlike Palmer, who was eating and drinking, Burlogo visited all the areas he could go to within the allowed range. , and found this location.

It is located in the corner of the garden, the path to come here is covered by growing bushes, it is difficult to find the path without getting close.

The corner looked a little desolate, the bricks and stones covering the ground were cracked, green grass was growing in the cracks, and the shrubs were not pruned, looking like they were growing wildly.Burlogo guessed it had something to do with the area behind the corner.

Thinking of this, he turned his head, and behind another layer of bushes and shade, he could see huge white stone pillars, most of them were incomplete, full of gaps, and some were even broken, as if this was the ruins of some kind of magnificent building. There are countless tombstones in different styles.

Burrog glanced at the books in his hands. He left the other books in the house, but he took only one, this "Guide to the Devil and the Electric Guitar".

At first, Bologo thought that the author of this book was a good person, but judging from the weird hallucination just now, he felt that the author of the book was a devil-like guy, crawling with vague curses on each text.

Picking up the books, Bologo turned over the bushes and headed towards the cemetery. He had passed by here many times, but Bologo hadn't entered the cemetery yet. For some reason, he wanted to take a look today to see that everything was buried here what kind of person.

While advancing, he was still lingering in that muddled thought in his mind. Bologo didn't know whether his judgment was correct, but it was just an illusory assumption, which was enough to make him feel uneasy.

As an undead, Bologo is no longer afraid of physical destruction, but he has discovered that many fears are beyond death.

unknown.

A group of existence that you cannot confirm, generalize, or describe in any way that humans can understand, a corner that may involve the truth of this world and comes from the bottommost rules...

The unknown is like darkness. The young child is huddled in the corner, and the only thing that can protect him is the candle in his hand. The darkness invades the surroundings. Because of the unknown, it is changeable and deceitful.

Hidden in the darkness may be bloodthirsty wolves, or a mother looking for her child, but before the darkness wraps you, no matter how many possibilities it has, you will never know.

But when your darkness completely invades you, it's too late.

Bologo felt that he should find someone to talk to. Lebius might be the author of this book. He didn't know why the weird sense of curse came from, but Bologo believed in a strange fallacy.

It is often said that when you find a cockroach at home, there are already a group of cockroaches hiding in the shadows. In this way, Burlogo always feels that when you discover a secret, there may be many people who know it before you. These.

It sounds weird, but it's true.

"It's so vast..."

Burrog looked into the distance. The cemetery was much larger than he had imagined. The tombstones were densely packed and spread to the end of his field of vision. No one knew exactly how many people were buried here.

The cemetery is surrounded by shrubs and woods. They are like a maze, trapping the cemetery in it. If they didn't know the existence of this place in advance, I am afraid that many people would not be able to find it after walking for a month.

Burrog tried his best to change his mood. Under the sun, the cold feeling in his body was dispelled a lot.

Glancing at the tombstones around, it seems that this is the exclusive cemetery of the Bureau of Order. The tombstones are written with the deceased's name, department, date of death, and an epitaph.

"Do my best."

Bologo said in a low voice, this is the epitaph of one of them. According to the record on the tombstone, he was a member of the Field Service Department during his lifetime.

The epitaph is short but full of power.

"get off work!"

When Bologo was still immersed in the former's sense of duty and responsibility, a bloody epitaph appeared in front of Burlogo's eyes, smashing Burogo's touch and respect to pieces.

No matter how you look at the epitaph, it looks like it was written by Palmer, but Palmer is not dead yet.

Looking at this line of words, Bologo shook his head with a smile. With such a large order, it is inevitable that there will be some strange things.

He still remembers the librarian's complaint that because writers have the right to name their own books, there are many strangely named books in the collection.

There is a book called "Detailed Explanation of the Distribution of Opals Emergency Energy Replenishment Points", which sounds like an important and urgent introduction to the distribution of shelters, but in fact this is an introduction to Opals gourmet restaurants, and the author also marked it thoughtfully The opening hours of different restaurants, and the special products of different seasons.

This book should have been swept out of the library, but it was unexpectedly popular in the Bureau of Order, and everyone also scored the restaurant, so it became a permanent book, and it is placed on the shelves of many rest areas .

In the seemingly serious Bureau of Order, there is still such a group of interesting people.

"I don't want to be neighbors with Watt."

Another line of epitaph appeared in front of my eyes, and the owner of the tomb was a man named George.

Burlogo couldn't figure out what the line of epitaph meant, and then he saw the tombstone next to George's, and it said.

"Yo! Good morning! George!"

The owner of this tombstone was called Watt, and Bologo was stunned for two seconds, then he understood the meaning on it, and laughed.

He wandered around for a long time, and there was also a bench for people to rest in the cemetery, and Bologo sat on it, looking up at the sky.

Cemeteries always make people feel uneasy, but Burlogo is unexpectedly relieved to be here. It may be that many interesting souls are buried here.

There were bursts of footsteps in the distance, Bologo thought it was the gravekeeper, and cast his eyes over it, but the person who came did not seem to be the gravekeeper.

He was tall, with thick muscles that fully supported his clothes. Although it was only a black overcoat, he was wearing it like a tough armor.

It was difficult for Bologo to judge his age. The man's face was wrinkled with age, his beard and hair were covered with silver, and his eyes with golden frames were placed between the bridge of his nose. The pupils under the mirror were not cloudy at all, but had a Sharpness.

Burrog suddenly realized why it was difficult for him to judge his age. He looked like an old guy, but only his body was old, and his soul was still young, hot and full of vitality.

No... even this guy's body hasn't aged much. Judging from that strong arm, it's not a problem for him to smash the tombstone with one punch.

"Good morning, Mr. Lazarus."

The man greeted Burlogo. He knew his name and handed him his business card.

Bologo was a little overwhelmed, but when he saw the name on the business card, his pupils froze for a moment, and even the surrounding sunlight lost its temperature.

"Do you mind if I sit next to you?" the man asked.

"do not mind."

Hearing Burrogo's response, the man smiled, and the originally wide bench became narrower as the man sat down. The man took out the pocket of his clothes and took out a pack of cigarettes.

"Would you like one?" the man asked.

"No."

Burrog refused the man's offer.

"I thought people like you would like to smoke. Think about it, with a deep face, and the smoke covering your face...it's pretty cool." The man laughed.

"No, I only smoke on special occasions," Burlogo said.

"for example?"

"For example, if I hacked a damn guy, I would sit next to his corpse and smoke one, or when I was under a lot of pressure, I would release the pressure... This thing is like alcohol, and it helps us at certain times Relax your nerves, but as an expert, you can't relax too much."

Burlogo bought a pack of cigarettes and smoked them for months.

"Sounds good, hoo... so refreshing."

The man exhaled a big mouthful of smoke, and put his hands casually on the back of the chair. From the front, he seemed to be hugging Burlogo.

"You should have read this book, right? Do you have any thoughts?" Surrounded by smoke, the man's face became blurred, and he added, "I'm not referring to the electric guitar, it's something deeper , such as... the devil or something?"

"It was you who gave me this book."

Hearing the man's words, the events were connected in series, and Burlog looked at the man vigilantly.

"What? I thought you'd like this book."

The man still had that damned smile on his face, he continued.

"Do you know? Mr. Lazarus, the vague connection between the debtor and the devil is real and can be used."

The man took the book on Burlogo's lap and flipped through it casually. The pages turned quickly, but it was like a film tape that flew by frame by frame.

Burlogo didn't know if it was a hallucination or if the book was designed that way, but he saw a butterfly dancing as the pages turned.

"This connection allows the debtor to understand something deliberately hidden by the devil, because you are in common with the devil, and you are the messengers of the devil," the man turned to a page and read the text on it, "Psychic medium , spiritual vision, or some other messy adjective... In short, you can understand this feeling? The debtor can see what only the devil should be able to see."

Burrog didn't respond, and the man looked into his eyes, a look of satisfaction on his face.

"It seems that you have already experienced it. I didn't expect you to have such a deep connection with the devil," the man continued to encourage, "Don't feel any pressure, you can feel it. The Bureau of Order is very serious, but the employees can be very humorous. I'm not as rigid as the rumors say."

"Be brave and say what you see and know."

As he spoke, he patted Burlogo on the back, raised his arms in a fist-making motion, and was confident.

"Don't worry, I dare not say that the world is invincible, but here in Opus, there are still not many people who can beat me. Even if the devil comes, I can fight a few rounds."

Bologo took a deep look at the man, thinking of those tombstones just now, and this seemingly serious but not very serious man in front of him, he actually wanted to laugh.

As for the bold words the man just said...Bologo didn't think he was joking.

"The devils are the prisoners of power, and the debtor is the agent outside the prison."

"That's right, spread your expert thinking, the next thing should be easy to guess, right?"

The man continued to encourage Bologo, but when Bologo said this, he had already noticed the surging strange feeling, and the strange and distorted cold came again, and Bologo couldn't see or touch it. But he could clearly sense the attack of evil.

The strange feeling was defeated in an instant, and another force came here. Bologo turned his head, and saw that the man was still looking at him with a smile, but this time there was a little more golden light in his eyes.

"The devils collect souls, endless souls."

Burrogo remembered Jeffrey's question at the beginning, what is the soul to the devil?strength?food?Or is it just some kind of collectivism?

Now Burrog realized that whatever the soul was to the devil, there was only one answer that could drive a prisoner so madly.

"The devils collect souls, contract debtors, and constantly influence the course of the world in the dark."

Burrog tried to control his emotions and keep himself calm.

"All of this is just to escape from a certain prison... a prison that still imprisons devils from ancient times to the present."

"The speculation is correct!"

Nethaniel Vaole, deputy director of the Bureau of Order and Minister of Field Service, gave Burlogo a thumbs up.

(End of this chapter)