Traveling through thousands of realms at the same time, I need to add some dark blue

Chapter 250 Backlund Great Smog

How should I put it? Maybe it’s like Adam writing a script, and he can’t help but use the real Creator as an all-purpose and wonderful tool.

Although the Fool has been used up and the wool should not be plucked from a sheep, Gu Meng still couldn't help but use the Fool as the initial observation coordinate when he wrote his dreams.

……

A certain desperate lady who was a puppet walked out of the alley and into the street with an expressionless face, like a puppet.

Her steps were very slow, as if she was wandering in a sea of ​​fog.

Wherever she passed, the fog thickened imperceptibly, taking on a slightly iron-black color, and the distance between them was quietly decreasing.

After she left the street, a homeless man wearing an old jacket and with a sallow face suddenly started coughing so violently that he fell to the ground.

Two poor people who were very close to the homeless man retreated in horror, then covered their throats, making hoarse sounds, as if they had severe lung disease or bronchitis and could not breathe. At the same time, there were signs of burning on their bodies.

If Audrey saw it, she would probably feel like she had seen it before, because it was the same fire that she had seen in her dreams.

Iron-black and light-yellow smog descended on the East District, the dock area, and the factory area that was spewing smoke. It continued to spread throughout Backlund, and the black flames in the fog also spread.

Various scenes in the distance were submerged, and even the towering bell tower was left with only a faint shadow. Workers and poor people began to feel uncomfortable one after another. The homeless people who struggled to fight the cold and hardship surrounded the route where the puppet had passed, and fell ill one after another. Human life was as fragile as the foam when washing clothes.

Ms. Despair's expression became more and more empty, as if she was completing a work of art. Of course, all of this was an oil painting. Backlund was about to be pulled into a dream by Gu Meng's divine power. He had entered the story and turned into words in the wash of time.

The history of the Kingdom of Loen will remember this day: the Backlund Great Smog/Fire Incident.

……

The dark valley has been completely covered by the dark and illusory water surface. In the valley, Gu Meng's real body is walking in the water, suppressing Adam in the Book of Chaos at hand with one hand, and holding "0-08" in the other hand. He has not stopped writing.

The pen tip madly weaves absurd, funny, thrilling and terrifying stories wherever it can be put:

"Klein... Ms. Despair... Mr. A... Flame... The story in the dream, the history in the prophecy, and the real illusion, all overlap here, and will open the door where reality and illusion overlap..."

…………

On a street deep in the East District.

Old Kohler hurried back to his rented apartment, holding the ham in a paper bag.

He looked around warily, afraid that those hungry guys with wolf-like eyes would pounce on him and snatch his food. He had seen wolves when he was in the countryside, but he didn't expect to experience that familiar feeling in Backlund.

He is now an employee of the pharmaceutical factory run by the Phoenix Society. He lives better than most workers. After all, Gu Meng is not short of money and is not interested in money. To be honest, the salary he is given is a bit against industry rules, but Gu Meng is not afraid of those troubles.

"Thank you Mr. Malfoy and Master Snape... Did I spend too much money? I'll buy less next time... This is enough for me to eat during the New Year holiday. I can have two, three, no, at least five slices of ham for every meal. I can also cut some off and stew it with potatoes. I don't even need to add salt..."

Thinking of this, Old Kohler looked at the ham in his arms. Seeing the red meat mixed with a lot of white meat, his throat couldn't help but move and he swallowed.

As he walked, he felt the fog around him become much thicker. The church bell tower that was still clear in the distance was gradually swallowed up by a mixture of light yellow and iron black. The pedestrians around him, who were more than ten steps away, were only vague shadows.

Although this fog was too outrageous, it was understandable since it was Backlund.

What is really hard to understand is why there is a black flame in the shadow? What is that?
Old Kohler suddenly felt as if he was in a dream and covered his mouth and nose with his hands.

"Something's wrong. Am I dazzled? Also, why does the fog smell so bad today?"

He panicked a little and quickened his pace.

One step, two steps, three steps, old Kohler felt his face getting hot and his forehead seemed to be burning.

His chest felt tight, his throat felt uncomfortable, and he soon had difficulty breathing.

"Are you sick? It seems that the flame was an illusion caused by my fever. Damn it, I still want to have a happy New Year, but now I can only send my savings to the clinic and the hospital... No, maybe I will be fine after a good sleep. I will just need to cover myself with my quilt and have a good sleep!" Old Kohler muttered to himself silently, his head getting hotter and hotter, and he became more and more confused.

Ho, ho, ho, he heard his own labored breathing. His hands went limp and the paper bag of ham fell heavily to the ground.

Old Kohler subconsciously squatted down to pick it up, but fell there.

He held down the bag of ham and tried to pull it into his arms.

At this moment, he thought that thick phlegm was rising and blocking his throat, so he struggled hard, making a sound like a bellows being pulled.

Plop! Old Kohler’s vision began to blur as he saw someone fall down a few steps away.

Suddenly, he had an epiphany and knew he was about to die.

This reminded him of his wife and children, who had also suddenly contracted the plague and soon died.

This reminded him of the time when he was hospitalized for illness. The patient in the same room was still laughing and chatting that night, but was sent to the morgue in the early morning.

This reminded him of the friends he met when he was a homeless person. As a winter passed, many of them disappeared and were eventually found stiff in bridge holes or street corners sheltered from the wind. A small number of them died from the sudden availability of food.

Emperor Roselle was right. Things are unpredictable. I thought my luck had turned and I would become a worker again without unemployment. My salary had also been greatly improved, but fate always caught me off guard.

This reminded him of the harsh environment in Backlund over the years, including the working and living environment.

Yes, over the years, neighbors on the block would also die suddenly. Some died from headaches and convulsions, some accidentally fell into molten steel just out of the furnace, some died with edema and pain in their bones, and some even collapsed silently in the factory, batch after batch.

This reminded him of what a drunkard once said in a bar:

"People like us are like straw in the field. When the wind blows, we will fall down. Even if there is no wind, we may fall down..."

The wind is coming...this thought flashed through old Kohler's mind.

While holding the paper bag of ham tightly, he reached into the pocket of his old jacket, trying to take out the wrinkled cigarette that he had been reluctant to smoke.

What he couldn't understand was why he, who was in good health, suddenly fell ill. He had experienced such thick fog before.

What he couldn't understand was that his life had just gotten on track and was developing in a good enough direction. He had a stable job, a kind boss, and he bought a piece of ham he had longed for to welcome the New Year. He was looking forward to tasting its deliciousness, but why did he suddenly collapse?

Old Kohler took out the crumpled cigarette, but his arm was no longer strong enough to lift and it fell heavily to the ground.

He used up his last bit of strength, trying to shout out the words that had accumulated in his heart, but he could only let the weak words linger on his lips, unable to come out. He seemed to hear his own last words.

He heard himself asking:
"why?"

If this were a world without magic, the reasons would have to be found in realistic factors such as the Industrial Revolution, capitalism, and extreme pursuit of profit. However, since this is a world with high magic, these things could have been avoided. The reason is naturally because these are necessary sacrifices.

Just before his death, he saw that the flame in the shadow had burned his body. He even had a hallucination that there was a girl holding a flame on the street. Although she was a girl, she looked like a goddess.

He inexplicably thought of Emperor Roselle’s famous fairy tale “The Little Match Girl”. There would be illusions in the flames. Am I dreaming?

Surely some of it must be an illusion? Which parts are real and which are fake?

Am I about to starve to death while wandering around and being unemployed? Are all my experiences during this period just imaginary? That's right, what factory would give such good treatment...

Everything becomes blurry.

…………

Inside an apartment building on the edge of the East Side.

Liv, who was once helped by Xiao Ke who transformed into the black emperor of thieves, hung up the last piece of washed clothes and waited for it to dry.

She looked at the sky outside and was a little confused about the time because of the fog that had become thicker at some point.

"Anyway, it's still early, and our laundry work has been completed..." Liv's expression gradually became heavy.

Finishing work too early is not a good thing. It does not mean you can rest. It only means that you have not worked enough and your income is insufficient.

Liv took a breath, turned around and said to her eldest daughter Freya, who was wiping her hands and looking at the vocabulary book in the next room:

"It's almost New Year's Day, and most of our employers have left Backlund and are going on vacation elsewhere. We can't go on like this, we have to find new jobs."

Liv had just opened the door when she suddenly stumbled and fell to the ground.

Cough, cough, cough! She coughed violently, her face flushed red, and every joint in her body ached unbearably.

Freya ran over in panic and squatted down:
"Mom, what's wrong with you? Mom, what's wrong with you?"

"No, cough, I'm fine." Liv's breathing became increasingly difficult.

"No, you are sick, sick! I will take you to the hospital right away!" Freya tried hard to help her mother up.

"It's too expensive, too, expensive, well, go to, Charity Hospital, Charity Hospital, I can wait, no, no big problem." Liv replied breathlessly.

Freya burst into tears and her vision quickly blurred.

At this moment, she felt her body burning, and her body suddenly went limp, taking Liv with her and falling to the ground again.

"I'm sick too?" She just thought so and found that it was not the case.

"Freya, what's wrong with you? Why is there fire on your body? Ahem, hurry, go to the water tank outside."

Liv shouted anxiously, but unfortunately, this flame was not an ordinary fire and could not be extinguished by water.

But surprisingly, although Freya couldn't speak, she didn't feel that she was suffering. This fire didn't hurt at all?

Her body suddenly twitched.

Liv's coughing stopped abruptly, and her body was also on fire. She was motionless, as if she was dead or in a dream.

……

In the East District, in the dock area, and in the factory area, those who were old or had hidden illnesses fell one after another in the fog like felled trees, and those who came into contact with them were infected with the plague and died quickly.

In their eyes, the mist that was a mixture of light yellow and iron black was like the coming god of death.

In real history, this should be called the Backlund Great Smog.

But in another dimension, the same plot happened, yet it seemed true and false. These fallen people did not die in the fog, but fell into eternal sleep in the flames.

The pictures from two angles appear at the same time, and the truth faces a choice.

.........

……

Destiny, time, and history are like a long river that never stops flowing. Rivers always flow into the sea, but this river will never end.

"Are these enough as sacrifices—"

Gu Meng released the destiny and the collected forces of time and space in his palms, and allowed them to impact freely in his special dream dungeon, in the unfinished level.

There is no purpose, only driven by force.

As expected, there was no result. They were distorted under Gu Meng's authority, but ultimately they could not make any changes to the real history and could only merge into the torrent.

Gu Meng could feel that these powers that brought him pollution had not actually disappeared, nor had they returned, because the system woven by Gu Meng was unique and had no precedent. This world of strict rules gave rise to such a power that was beyond the rules like a bug, which was the fruit of immortality and difficult to eliminate by itself.

Then, Gu Meng took all the power back into his palm and used it again. It was squeezed into the tip of 0-08's pen and turned into ink. He used it to write stories on his own secret device. 0-08 began to tremble, but Gu Meng was not stingy. After all, it was not his own thing.

Using this pen now is just a makeshift measure, as long as the Book of Chaos is fine. As for the characteristics, they can be recovered anyway. Even if Gu Meng wants to destroy it now, he cannot destroy the characteristics of Sequence 1. The immortality of the extraordinary characteristic is not a theorem that he can distort now.

Compared to directly throwing it with bare hands, writing is indeed different. Gu Meng's power has long reversed cause and effect under the blessing of the source of chaos, pulling Backland into his dream, in the interweaving of reality and illusion, through the choice of observation, time and space have the opportunity to be dislocated.

The bug of Gu Meng's armor is that even if it is just a fabricated ability, it has the possibility of becoming a reality with the blessing of Deep Blue. If the last time he wore armor, the ability to travel through time and space and the ability to transfer souls were purely fictional, they were all dreams, and any similarities were purely coincidental. It was not a parallel world, but just a relatively real dream formed by ability and subconsciousness. But when he stepped onto the long steps to ascend to the gods and successfully added points, this time it was completely different...

There is a tiny gap in the tight barrier of time and space, which allows some tiny insects to drill in.

(End of this chapter)