Endless Debt.

Chapter 702: Daytime Core
The endless brilliance rapidly magnified in Bologo's eyes. He could see clearly the blazing storm. On every stream of air, there were ghosts being pulled and dancing wildly, surrounded by hundreds of millions of ghosts. The storm circles endlessly along the core of the day.

Now Borrog also joined the carnival, the tangle involved Borrog, and he fell towards the core of the day, ghosts and Borrog passed by each other until one ghost collided with Borrog head-on .

The two souls were intertwined and separated, and during the brief interval of contact, just like the poet's dream that Bologo experienced when he was promoted to a believer, the strange dream came again.

In the blink of an eye, Bologo has already experienced another person's life, but this time Burlogo has not calmed down and reorganized his will, and he continues to move forward under the pull of the tangle.

One after another, ghosts hit Bologo's body like a torrential rain, followed by completely different memories, there are men and women, some wonderful and some lost, several lives are connected together, forming a thousand-year-long memory. Hundred years of memory.

Bologo's self-awareness began to melt in these long and short years. He almost lost himself and merged into this crazy mental storm, but Bologo still defended his will.

In the extreme pain, as if some kind of psychological defense was triggered, most of the memories were like dreams, they appeared suddenly and then disappeared quickly.

Judging from the real flow time of the etheric world, it took tens of seconds for Bologo to fall to the day core inside the storm, but from the perspective of Bologo's self-cognition, he spent an extremely long time , and during this time, most of the memories have evaporated.

It feels awful, like someone roughly stuffed a ton of stuff into your head and emptied it again.

Burrog gasped in pain. He realized that getting too close to the secret source was not a good thing. He tried to cut off the tangle, but no matter how much he tore it, the stretched silk thread still bound Burrog tightly.

Will this be the end of all souls?
Be swallowed by the secret source?
Burrogo couldn't figure it out. There were too many things in this ghost place that he couldn't figure out. He recalled all the great discoveries in human history. People who have encountered the seas and crossed the world, the first to discover the existence of the secret source and create the alchemy matrix.

and also……

And the first to forge a blade to slit another man's throat.

Now Bologo feels that he has taken the "first time", the eyes of the world are focused on him, and he feels suddenly, followed by uneasiness and fear.

Pulled by the tangle, Bolog could only march forward towards the core of the day, until Bolog was completely swallowed by the blazing light.

The shadows made restless and anxious sounds, and their shapes became distorted. The shadows of nothingness seemed to have a substance, wriggling violently, like a pool of dirty water, until at a certain moment it broke the tension of its own water surface , the shadow completely collapsed, and thousands of tons of sticky tar poured down.

Like countless pitch-black poisonous insects crawling across the ice field, and like rising tides of tar, they are besieged by the blazing storm, and the tar condenses into strange shapes with distorted postures in the surging. They are unpredictable and become grotesque creatures. army.

Burrog's mood has gradually become numb, and he will not be surprised by any strange things that happen next.

The terrible nightmare is not over yet.

Countless umbilical cords ejected from the boiling tar, and they fell like a torrential rain, piercing the ghosts that surrounded the storm.

These thousands of umbilical cords are like outstretched arms, and their purpose is very clear.

Bologo's numb heart hangs again. If he had to choose a way to die, he would rather be burned to ashes by this blazing storm and the secret source, rather than throw himself into the stench of tar.

The fire that illuminated the darkness burst into flames.

The blazing storm quickly expanded, and the flame waves passed over the tar, setting off pieces of blazing sea of ​​flames. Shadows and blazing storms, which respectively represented the projections of different forces, fought on the ice sheet.

It was a battle that Bologo had never seen before. It was like the fight between thunder and hurricane, the confrontation between wildfire and torrent, under the interweaving of light and darkness, things like chaos changed from disorder to law, and arcs and light trails bloomed endlessly.

This is a collision of forces beyond cognition, a grand game of pure, straightforward, imagery, and chaotic weather.

Burrog could vaguely feel that whether it was the shadow or the white storm, they were all unconscious, just pure power.

"No... why is this happening?"

Bologo couldn't figure it out. If the projection of the secret source, the blazing storm behind him was unconscious, Bologo would not be surprised. After all, people knew too little about the secret source.

But the shadows, the projections of the devils, why do they look like this?

Without any consciousness, like a group of wild beasts acting entirely on instinct, uncontrollable and wanton expansion.

"Perhaps, this is the essence of the devil?"

Burrog suddenly thought, muttering to himself.

"The devils are just slaves of power, and what is contained in the etheric world is the essence of their power?"

The more he thought about Bologo, the more terrified he felt, as if a thunderbolt hit him, stinging every inch of his nerves, Burlogo trembled uncontrollably, and he was so nervous because of excitement.

"It's like... like a soul!"

The soul not only exists in human beings, but also exists in the material world and the etheric world. When human beings die, the soul will leave the material world and return to the etheric world.

What about the devils?

In this etheric world, they also have projections. Does it mean that devils, like souls, not only exist in the material world, but exist in both the material world and the etheric world.

Slave to power.

The devils are divided into two. What hides in the etheric world is their crazy power of authority, and what exists in the material world is their crazy will.

Power and will are now separated.

Burrog struggled violently. At this moment, he had an extremely strong desire to survive. He wanted to live, and he wanted to bring the information back.

"astronaut!"

Burrog roared, he saw the anchor that broke the umbilical cord, the astronaut is here, is he going to sit and watch himself being swallowed by the secret source?

"Take me away!"

Burrog continued to roar, his voice echoed in the vast and boundless world, and there was no echo for a long time.

No answer.

Burrog yelled again, "I know you're here!"

The etheric realm responded with silence.

Burrog fell toward the Day Core, the calm eye of the storm.

The blazing storm is several times larger than Bologo expected. Its diameter spans at least several thousand meters. This is an unimaginable magnificent creation, which affects unimaginable power.

Bologo couldn't help guessing, once such power descends on the material world, what kind of disaster will it cause? I'm afraid it can no longer be described as an extraordinary disaster, but an extraordinary doomsday.

The stream of light all around became more and more filling, they filled Bologo's field of vision and passed by, at this moment Bologo seemed to be in a white passage, and then looked at the wriggling tar shadows, They are at the end of the tunnel and are still shrinking.

One after another ghosts hit Bologo's body, and each hit brought fragments of memory, and the will was hit hard, full of cracks.

These ghosts have no self-will, they are just information carriers carrying memories one by one, which reminds Bologo, the current director who has completely become a wetware, her will is the same as these ghosts, in the countless wills Under the conflict with each other, they are completely broken, blurred, and turned into walking dead.

Boluoge will also go to such an ending, he only hopes to last longer, longer before completely collapsing...

No, not yet.

"To call a devil, first, you must know his name."

Bologo looked at the black tar behind the endless light, and he said in a trembling voice.

"Leviathan!"

The voice slowly spread to the front line of the grotesque disputes, as if some kind of power had been triggered, the long and deep voice sounded again, mixed with the rustling sound of metal rubbing against each other.

Something is coming.

The dark thing broke into the storm and easily crossed the flame waves gathered by the ghosts. The blurred black shadow continued to enlarge in the blazing light until the rusty anchor appeared in the eyes of Bologo.

Bologo was very unwilling to borrow the power of the devil, but at this time, he had no other choice.

The heavy anchor was covered with sticky tar, and they condensed into a large school of cruising fish. They cruised together with the advance of the anchor, and the moment they came into contact with the flame, all the schools of tar fish evaporated, paving the way with this sacrifice. The way to make the anchor move further forward.

Burrog reached out with all his strength and tried to grab the anchor.

The collision of these two forces caused a shocking change, and the terrifying force raged and spread. At the same time, it was getting closer and closer. Just when Bologo was about to be within reach, pure streamer enveloped Bologo. Logo.

Burlogo was caught.

In the high-speed pulling, Bologo had already penetrated into the eye of the storm and touched the core of the day.

Almost at the moment of contact, Bologo lost consciousness. At the end of his thoughts, what he saw was the untouchable anchor and the evaporated body.

His vision was plunged into darkness, and his consciousness froze.

……

In the chaos, a thought was slowly condensing. It took him a long time to gradually condense more thoughts until he formed a complete consciousness. After an extremely long time, he finally realized that he The presence.

He opened his eyes.

The object of entry was a dilapidated wooden roof shed, the beams were covered with dust cobwebs, the boy lay on the bed, dazed for a long time, and did not get up until a woman's voice came from outside the house.

"Hill!"

Hearing the woman's call, the boy's eyes showed a look of confusion. When the call sounded again, he realized belatedly that Hill was his name.

Hill got up from the bed, put on his clothes and walked out the door. In the early morning, before the sun had fully risen, the woman had already gotten up to work. She rolled up her sleeves and packed her things in the cool wind.

Hill came to her side without saying a word. The woman saw the strangeness in Hill's eyes, and she asked, "What's wrong? Are you having nightmares again?"

"I did, but...but it doesn't seem like a nightmare."

"Huh?" The woman smiled, "Tell me about it."

"I dreamed that I became another person, one named..."

Hill tried to recall the confusing dream, and after thinking for a long time, he slowly replied, "A person named Bologo, it seems to be that name."

"And then? What kind of person is that?"

The woman asked Hill while she was busy. In a busy day, early morning is rarely a free time. She wants to spend more time with Hill.

"A...a strange person, I don't know how to evaluate him."

Hill recalled his dream, in which he seemed to have lived a strange life as Bologo.

"He is a guy who advocates violence. He is very good at countering violence with violence. I dreamed that he swung a hammer and smashed the heads of bad guys one after another. He looked as strong as iron, but sometimes he seemed very fragile. , often lying on the bed alone, not knowing what to think about.”

Hill's memory gradually became clearer, and his mood also became depressed.

"His most important friend died, and he was devastated, devastated."

Hill thought he was about to remember the man's name when the woman stopped what she was doing and reached out to stroke the boy's head, ruffling his hair.

"It's nothing, it's just a dream."

The woman squatted down and looked at him softly, "Just bask in the sun."

Hill still wanted to say something, but seeing the woman's soft and slightly haggard face, he didn't want her to bear any more, so Hill stretched out his hand and hugged the woman vigorously.

He whispered, "I'll be a good boy, mother."

The woman kissed Hill's cheek affectionately, "Hilben is a good boy."

There was a coughing sound in the room, which interrupted the warmth between the two, and the woman became a little flustered. She didn't even look at Hill, and left him directly, walked into the room quickly, and pushed away the innermost one door.

Hill stood where he was, looking at the door, as if something terrible was hidden behind the door, his gaze was fixed, and it took a long time before he looked away.

He tried his best not to think about what was going on behind the door, but the coughing sound from behind the door couldn't be stopped. It seemed that a patient infected with a cold was hidden inside. His coughing sound became louder and louder, as if he wanted to cough up all his internal organs. Come out the same.

Every coughing sound hit Hill's chest like a heavy hammer.

It took a long time for the woman to deal with the affairs in the house. When she came out, she looked very tired. When she saw Hill, she showed a helpless and forced smile.

Hill said with difficulty, "Father, is he okay?"

The woman comforted, "It's okay, my father will recover soon."

The time for work is approaching. The woman got dressed and was about to leave home for work. Hill stood at the door and watched the woman leave. Before the woman left, she asked him again.

The woman said, "Now that the disease is prevalent, don't leave the house, okay?"

"Ah."

Hill nodded, "You too, mother, be careful."

The woman smiled at him and turned to leave. Her pace was neither fast nor slow, and her figure was tired and thin. Before she completely disappeared from Hill's sight, Hill vaguely heard a suppressed cough coming from afar.

The sun rises and the moon rises, and it starts again and again.

As Hill knew, the disease had been prevalent in the village during this period of time, and the first person to die in the family was his father. He had been lying in the house for a while, and was afraid of contagion. His mother never let Hill visit his father, except Apart from hearing coughing in the house every day, Hill had no other way to tell if his father was still alive.

In order to treat her father, her mother risked going out to work and often had to work until late at night before returning. When she got home, she could not rest and had to take care of her seriously ill father.

Hill often had nightmares. In the dream, he opened the door. His father had already died of illness, and what was left on the bed was just a rotting corpse, followed by his mother...

Hill didn't tell his mother about the nightmare. He felt fear and despair for the possibility. Gradually, Hill even began to fear the night and resist sleep.

"Bologo..." Hill whispered the name, "Bologo Lazarus."

Hill envied the man named Bologo. Although he had a tragic experience, he had the power to resist. Today, Hill can't do anything. He can only watch his mother weaken day by day, and the family gradually fall apart. .

day to day.

Since that night, Hill has never dreamed about Borrog again. Similarly, he has no more nightmares. During this time, Hill was in good spirits, but his mother became Much weaker.

The continuous work made the mother exhausted, and the father's illness showed no sign of improvement.

Hill knew that if things continued like this, it would only be a matter of time before his mother was completely worn down, but he had no way to reverse all of this. He was even unable to take care of his father because of his mother's ban.

Hill hadn't seen his father for a long time, and he couldn't imagine how ugly his father should be lying on the bed now.

"Mom, you should rest."

In the middle of the night, Hill begged the woman sadly, but the woman still stubbornly pushed the door open, wanting to step into the darkness.

Hill hugged her waist, the woman lowered her head, and said in a soft voice, "Be good, Hill, father needs to be taken care of."

"So when is the end?" Hill asked puzzled, "Look at yourself, you are too tired, you need to rest."

The woman fell silent, and after a few seconds, her voice trembled, as if she was suppressing sobs.

"Yes, but what can I do? Hill."

At that time, Hill still didn't understand the woman's words, but she forcefully broke away from Hill's embrace, turned around and walked through the door.

In this way, many days later, my mother also fell ill. Her face was pale, and she was weak and weak. Just like her father, she coughed in a low voice from time to time.

Hill heard that many people in the village and town had died of the disease.

Hill knew that if this continued, not only his father would leave, but his mother would also be unable to hold on.

Every night, Hill began to suffer. He wanted to change everything, but he didn't know what to do.

Then...then Hill saw him, in a stormy night, it seemed like the whole world was going to fall, the wind was hitting the house, the rain was dripping, and amidst the rolling thunder, the house was crumbling, as if it was going to collapse completely .

Hill curled up in the quilt, he called his mother, but no one in the room responded to him, as if he had fallen into a deep sleep, and seemed to have left.

The sound of knocking on the door came to Hill's ears clearly, and the faint sound covered up the wind and rain.

Hill didn't want to pay attention to it at first, but the voice was very stubborn, knocking repeatedly, and refused to stop for a moment.

Trying to muster up the courage, Hill rolled up the quilt. He wanted to push open other doors, trying to find his mother, but those doors remained motionless as if molten iron had been cast.

In the end, Hill could only face it alone. He walked towards the gate, and at the same time, a strange premonition suddenly rose in his heart.

"Don't open the door."

A voice warned.

"Don't open the door!"

The voice became high-pitched, as if yelling at Hill.

Hill couldn't stop, his body seemed to be dominated by some kind of force, he walked towards the door uncontrollably, grabbed the doorknob, as if trying to pull away a boulder, exhausted all his strength.

The icy wind and rain poured in through the gap, and a dark figure stood in front of the gate, saying hello to Hill.

"Good evening, Hill."

Hill stood there dumbfounded.

Many years later, he will still recall this day, the beginning of his dark destiny.

same.

Hill will also be delighted, the end of darkness will be the rise of dawn.

(End of this chapter)