Rule Strange: Urban Legends That Don't Exist

Chapter 431 Go to sleep, go to sleep

Everything turned around in a decadent afternoon.

Today's bounty duel was still unable to open due to insufficient audience, and Paulkin Walker finally couldn't bear the pressure after failing another job interview and went to a tavern to get drunk.

Grumpy, he drank the wine glass in one gulp, but at the end of the glass he took a mouthful of wine dregs.

The dross is not the residue of fermented wheat, but not finely divided sawdust.

Encouraging fermentation with sawdust is dirty work that not even the sloppiest Ayrite would bother to do.

He clashed with the bartender and sat down under the threat of the thugs in the tavern without saying a word.

Paulkin Walker resigned, but as the bartender turned his back, he snatched a sawdust from the glass and shaved off a few bristling hairs on the bartender's head.

He did it secretly, but this scene was discovered by someone. The person came over, ordered a cup of expensive "Silver Salute" for him, chatted with him, and said that he could shoot so accurately. club work.

Paulkin Walker was so flattered by his first job offer that he left the man's phone number and went to the Spyro Shooting Club on Capone Lane that afternoon.

When he learned that the job of a shooting coach is not only to teach shooting, but also to solicit customers for the club, Paul Kim Walker did not flinch.

He has no choice.

At first, the job didn't bother him.

In fact, he quite liked the continuous sound of gunshots in the club's shooting range, and those sounds used to fascinate him.

He found his place later, but the gunshots didn't bother him any more—he still loved them, but he had to get away from them for the sake of more important things.

Now, compelled to have them in his life again, he realizes that he can approach them in another way, and that gives him a faint pleasure.

The trouble after becoming a shooting coach is not "teaching design skills" itself, but soliciting customers.

For him, soliciting customers is a very troublesome thing. After Paulkin Walker went through a series of "marketing training", he found that he hated the work of soliciting customers.

Gun practice is just practice guns, is it over after teaching clients to shoot accurately?What are you doing with these stupid people?
Paulkin Walker soon discovered that people who came to the club to practice guns really followed the same way as in marketing training.

They don't care if you are accurate or not, and they don't care if you teach well. They only look at whether the price is acceptable to them, and the price can be raised by speaking skills. Guests feel they are getting their money's worth -- if only mentally.

It sucks.

There were a lot of people looking for him at the beginning, because when the agent introduced him, he usually packaged him as a "bounty duel gold medal gunner". This packaging once allowed him to get many customers.

But customers usually only do membership with him for one week, and the customers leave in the second week.

The reason why the client does not continue the class is because he teaches too quickly and often finishes teaching everything that should be taught in the first week. Although the practice is still insufficient, the client has mastered the practice method from him and feels that he does not need it. No more practice at expensive ranges.

The second is because his temper is really bad. Although he teaches well, his requirements are too strict, and he will be reprimanded if he disagrees. The client is here to practice guns, not to be scolded. Will have another bad second week.

After the agent learned of this situation, he communicated with Paulkin Walker and wanted to change his situation.

Paulkin Walker also knows his bad temper, he cherishes this job, and he doesn't want to lose his job because of his bad temper.

But he didn't want to use those rhetoric in the marketing training to deceive people. For him, things related to firearms cannot be faked, that would be an insult to firearms.

As a result, fewer and fewer people asked him to practice guns, and he made less and less money.

He faintly felt that it was wrong for him to do this. He needed money, and Dalia also needed money. Since those marketing tricks could make him make money, they could be used.

But every time those words came to his lips, he couldn't speak them out.

Frustrated, he thought, maybe I wasn't born for this job?
Until it was another fruitless day, when he came home from get off work, he saw a woman in a dark green robe coming out of his house, nodded at him, smiled, and left grandly.

"Dahlia, is that?"

Dahlia, who was sitting cross-legged on the bed, seemed to be different from before, but Paulkin Walker couldn't say exactly what was different.

"That's the missionary of the Spring God Secret Order."

A healthy rosy halo shone on Dalia's face.

"How do you see my complexion?"

Paulkin Walker truthfully stated:
"It's much better than before..."

It is indeed much better than before, because the bitter juice of the Asian doctor has too many side effects, and each stage of treatment is as deadly as it is. Only after one course of treatment will Dahlia regain her vitality.

Paulkin Walker remembered Dahlia looking so weak when she left the house this morning, but so... glowing this afternoon.

It's not normal.

"Dahlia..."

Paulkin Walker thinks about the words in his mind, Dahlia is the only person he has to think about the words before he has a conversation, she is too fragile, like a rose that will wither at any time, he wants to be in every way Take good care of her, including words.

"I know some small sects, they are good to the believers, but there will always be some unexpected situations, some... side effects."

Dalia sat up from the bed, took his hand, and said seriously:
"Don't worry, I know it in my heart. I didn't let her touch my body. I just meditated. I know they are a cult, but I still want to give it a try. After all, it doesn't cost money to try, right?"

The word "spending money" struck Paulkin Walker's heart, and he nodded blankly.

"In short... if you want to deal with them, you must be careful."

What Paulkin Walker didn't expect was that when he returned home the next afternoon, Dahlia was already sick in bed, her skin seemed to wither.

Everything happened so suddenly that he was completely caught off guard.

"Paul..."

Dalia grabbed his arm:

"Go to Astana from the Spring God Secret Order...she is..."

She gave an address, but Paulkin Walker did not leave immediately after she had spoken, as he usually did.

"Dahlia, we can't rely on that cult! I don't know what happened to you, I need to take you to the doctor!"

The fear of death made Dahlia lose her mind, and she yelled in a broken voice:
"Paul! Don't you love me! You want to save me! I'm dying! Go find Astana!"

He forcibly carried Dahlia on his back, and rushed out the door regardless of her struggle.

He took her to see an Asian doctor. After taking the pulse, the doctor said he could do nothing and told Paulkin Walker that what happened to Dahlia was beyond his control.

The Asian doctor only gave him a fragment of ore with a dim green light, and he told Paulkin Walker that keeping this thing with him could save Dahlia's life at a critical moment.

Paulkin Walker didn't see Dalia's obvious rejection of the ore fragments, his mind was in a mess, and he just put the ore fragments in his pocket casually.

He carried her back home, and in a trance, he didn't realize that she had bitten his back.

He didn't know why everything suddenly became like this, he only saw that she was swallowing his flesh and blood, and an abnormal blush appeared on her face because of this, and he didn't realize until this moment that this blush was exactly the same as yesterday.

What did those damned heretics of the Spring God Secret Order do to her?
"Just give me meat, Pavel, just eat meat and I'll live!"

Dahlia, who regained some sanity, grabbed Paul's hands, as if she didn't care that she ate his flesh and blood just now.

"No, Dahlia, that would turn you into a monster..."

Paulkin Walker actually calmed down after experiencing absolute despair.

"We can't do such a thing, Dahlia...I'll take you to another doctor, there will always be one who can cure your disease!"

Dahlia slapped him and jumped on him, growling.

This time, he prevented her from eating her own flesh and blood.

He didn't know what happened to her, he just knew that she couldn't go on like this. Flesh and flesh not only allowed her to return to that "abnormal state of health", it was also a poison to kill her.

He hugged her tightly:
"Dahlia, listen to me, listen to me, I'll help you, you'll be fine..."

Dahlia's struggle in his arms gradually weakened until, a moment later, she collapsed in his arms.

She was out of breath.

Paulkin Walker's mind went blank.

A few seconds later, Dahlia opened her eyes again, and Paulkin Walker saw that her pupils had disappeared, and the eye sockets were full of squirming strains.

"Dahlia..."

He called her name, but the only response to him was a frenzied attack.

She turned into a monster who completely lost her mind.

He realized one thing.

Dalia in my arms, is it still Dalia?

He didn't dare to continue thinking about this question, he just kept repeating Dahlia's name, but the only response to him was crazy struggle.

He locked her firmly in his arms, recalling everything he had experienced with her these years, those fragments kept flashing before his eyes like a revolving lantern, those were the best days of his life, even if those days passed It's a little difficult, but also fun.

"Dalia, can we still live happily ever after?"

She has answered this question in the affirmative countless times, but now, she can no longer give him the answer.

Reason told him that Dalia was dead, and what he had in his arms was just a monster with her body, and he had to kill it to ensure that it would no longer desecrate her body.

The bloodthirsty strain had left her eye sockets and climbed up his arms, and those evil little things easily got into his flesh and blood, about to turn him into something like them.

"Dahlia, Dahlia, you will be fine soon, I will always be by your side..."

He hugged Dalia tightly, as if he didn't notice the strain that was entering the flesh and blood on his arm, and hummed the little tune that once lulled her to sleep.

"Sleep, sleep, my darling, it's already eleven o'clock at night.

Tonight you can still dream of the clouds of last night, you once traveled around the world on the clouds in your dream.

Go to sleep, go to sleep, my baby, only when you sleep can you grow your body.

There are sweet fruits in the dreamland, as well as your favorite candied fruit water.

I will accompany you, accompany you to sleep, accompany you to wake up.

Go to sleep, go to sleep, my darling..."

Dahlia's body slowly stopped struggling.

The ore fragments in his hand had already lodged in her back.

(End of this chapter)