I am creating a esoteric religion in London

Chapter 72

Naturally, Watson would not know that the refined middle-aged man in front of him was the suspicious object that the female detective was investigating.

He also stretched out his right palm to hold each other together. His sense of touch became more acute due to his esoteric practice, and he seemed to be able to sense the faint smell of disinfectant that the other party struggled to clean but still remained in the flesh and blood at the moment of holding each other. .

"Hi Mr. Morgan, just call me John."

"Hello, Mr. John."

Winfreys nodded, and then began to introduce the girl in the wheelchair, "This is my dear daughter Anna...Anna, can I say hello to Mr. John?"

Anna was still unable to move, she could only blink her long eyelashes, and at the same time gently tapped the armrest of the wheelchair with her fingers——Hello.

Even someone as cold-blooded and ruthless as Watson would pretend to be gentle and friendly in the face of such a fragile and beautiful thing. He smiled kindly and waved to the sick and immobile girl.

"Hello, beautiful Miss Anna."

Anna's pretty eyes flickered a few times, as if she was thanking Mr. John for his compliment.

Watson has roughly deduced that this delicate girl is probably suffering from amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, the famous progressive frostbite in later generations, which is incurable even in the 21st century.

In the current era, perhaps it should be called Charcot's disease. The name originated from Martin Charcot, a neurologist who was the first to discover the case in the opposite France.

Naturally, he would not foolishly ask questions to verify the accuracy of his deduction. This is undoubtedly a thorn in the heart of the miserable father in front of him.

There was a sudden silence between them, they didn't talk again, they just enjoyed the rare sunshine in tacit understanding... until the sun was covered by the dark clouds that came back again, and the colorful garden was once again covered with a dead gray color. In Anna's eyes is also like this.

Anna's eyes were gloomy again, even the tall and emerald green tree crowns could not alleviate her sorrow.

Watson's education told him that at this moment you should try to make girls happy, but his empathy has been exhausted today, and the library of British jokes in his head, mainly sarcasm and self-deprecating, is obviously not enough. It’s applicable to the little girl in front of you—it’s hard for you to use words to cheer up a girl who is about to die soon. She is in the prime of her youth when she should be blooming like a flower, but her life has entered the sunset, and it’s about to go down. Silent into the cold and dark underground.

It seemed that Winfreys couldn't bear to see his daughter continue to mourn. He said sorry and let's talk again next time, then turned the wheelchair and pushed the girl back to the inpatient building.

Watson looked at the lonely back of the father and daughter gradually going away, and the moth in the skull fluttered secretly. He suddenly had some kind of hallucination. In a trance, he seemed to hear the rhythm of the drum head, and he seemed to hear the thunder. With the sound of anger, he seems to have witnessed a long-haired endless monster stepping on the sea surface and dancing its body. The monster with lightning flashes in the hair is dancing passionately while pushing the almost broken heavy The iceberg chased towards the direction where the sun set far away on the sea level.

When he came back to his senses, the backs of the father and daughter had disappeared, but Watson couldn't help frowning slightly... Another secret messenger, that is the principle of heart and the principle of winter mentioned by Little Victor. Guidelines.

But he could somehow feel that the immobile girl Anna didn't seem to be a pure secret transmission practitioner, the powerful winter aspect in her body... seemed to be out of control, not so much the secret transmission aspect, More like a scar or ailment left by some kind of Winter's Secret.

"Could it be that the so-called gradual frostbite... is actually the inability of ordinary people to withstand the impact of high-level winter, and the body is invaded and corroded by the silent force, so that the neurons are damaged and the muscles are weak and atrophied."

"So, is this father named Winfrey planning to use the power of the heart rule to heal his daughter's illness?"

"However, the taboo knowledge passed down by Si Chen...how can it be such a kind force!"

Watson shook his head and decided not to think about it anymore. He also returned to his ward with a cane. When night fell, he plucked out a vellus hair again and escaped into his dream.

This time, he crossed the path of Dream Walk and came to the vicinity of the jagged boulder.

He looked at the gigantic boulder as tall as a mountain and as rugged as a church in front of him, and he still didn't rush forward to touch it. He always hid his figure in the shadow of the woodland, and walked behind the ancient trees that stood like a warrior guarding the frontier. , he tried to spare the jagged boulder and went directly to a further distance.

I don't know how long I walked, but the boulder finally stopped blocking me.

Watson was also able to glimpse the scene behind the jagged boulders. It was a deep and dark light curtain. The light curtain was tall and majestic reaching to the sky, like a solid city wall defending the unknowable place inside the woodland.

A cobalt blue strange brilliance faintly flows inside the light curtain, just like the colorful aurora in the night sky in a cold region. It is a brilliant color that is indescribable in words and difficult to paint with a brush.

Watson seemed to have reached the true edge of the woodland.

He suddenly felt a bone-chilling chill, and his body couldn't help trembling, as if a cold breath passed through his body.

The moth in his skull fluttered violently, his pupils shone with a brighter green light than before, the world in front of his eyes became extraordinarily clear, and he saw a nearly transparent gray-white figure wandering among the ancient iron-colored woods.

That figure roughly maintained the outline of a human figure, and was even dressed in neat clothes. It didn't look like someone who had fallen into a dream at all, and it seemed that his legs and feet were inconvenient when he walked erratically.

Watson moved slowly in front of this cold figure with a vigilant attitude. He vaguely saw an aging face, saw a pair of cloudy and lifeless eyes, and heard the unconscious voice of the other party. whisper.

"I...I don't want to die yet...I haven't lived enough..."

It turned out to be a dead undead!

Watson feels as if he has come into contact with Mansu's core secret... It turns out that not only secret messengers can enter Mansu, but even the souls of the dead will be dragged into this illusory world.

But another question arose in his heart. These dead souls...do they still have the consciousness of life? If the other party can still think and talk, then many suspenseful cases in reality can be easily solved?It seems that Holmes and other detectives will lose their jobs for this.

He took a few steps back first, picked up a stone on the ground, and threw it towards the wandering shadow of the undead—the stone passed through easily, and the illusory body didn't even make a ripple. It seems to be just a mirage-like phantom projected from a distance, there is no entity at all, and it will not be touched by this sudden attack, still obsessed in the memories of his life,

While he was still thinking about how to communicate with the dead soul, a figure approached silently behind him. It was so quiet that even his five senses, which are now far superior to ordinary people, could not sense any footsteps.

"You don't need to try. The souls of the mortal dead have already extinguished the light in their skulls and lost their minds long before they entered Mansu."

　It's been ten days since William's curtain ended, and I feel itchy and restless... I'm addicted to blades.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)