Dream Guide

The Île de la Cité and the Île Saint-Louis lie quietly in the Seine River like two leaves. Cruise ships and speedboats slowly pass by on the river, like reptiles and ants on the edge of the leaves. When passing by Ile de la Cité, tourists always pay attention to the majestic Gothic church on the island. Unfortunately, people can no longer see the once towering iconic spire.

In the enclosed Notre Dame neighborhood, several construction experts were pointing with drawings in their hands, while workers were busy sorting out construction materials.

The French, known for their procrastination, have finally officially launched the restoration project of Notre Dame. When the fire broke out in Paris, spring was still blooming, but at this time the north wind was howling.

A worker wearing a black windbreaker and a cloak was walking bent over in the waste dump area. A worker carrying a large piece of lumber passed by and shouted to him: "Hey, brother, look at how you're dressed, you're an Assassin's Creed fan, right?"

Another worker said: "Oh, Assassin's Creed, Leap of Faith! I know, this is how the spire of Notre Dame is probably jumped off, but it's a joke! Haha..."

The cloaked "assassin" ignored them and continued to walk slowly in the scrap pile, stopping occasionally as if he was rummaging for something.

"Hey, those are all the scraps that fell from the top of the tower. They have been counted and numbered. Don't worry about it anymore. Go over there and help!" the worker nearby reminded.

The assassin was still walking quietly with his head lowered. Suddenly he seemed to notice something. He stopped and squatted down. A gust of wind blew up, lifting his cloak, revealing a head of slightly sparse but very conspicuous auburn hair.

He picked up something from the ground, quickly covered his head with his cloak, and hurried toward the side door with his face lowered.

A few days later, construction experts and cultural relic experts came again to inventory the waste materials to confirm which ones could still be used in the restoration process and which ones had to be replaced with new materials. But when they were counting the broken pieces of the tower, they discovered that material No. 0371 was missing.

"It must have been stolen by that assassin!" said a worker.

"What assassin?"

"Oh, that guy is wearing a trench coat and a cape, like Arno Dorian from Assassin's Creed. He's a weird guy."

Another worker added: "I thought he was here to work like us. It turned out to be a thief. I don't know how he got in. Oh, by the way, he has red hair. There are not many red hairs like that. See you, the police will definitely find him."

Experts asked: "What is material No. 0371?"

The worker in charge of material registration said: "It is a thin red wooden strip less than thirty centimeters long. It should be used for horizontal connection between the supporting wood at the base of the tower, but it is different from other wood..."

The expert waved his hand and said, "Let it go with such a small connecting piece. Anyway, these things are basically unusable after being burned by fire. It is estimated that some devout believer picked it up and took it home to worship."

…

Although it's freezing on the northern continent, Egypt's winters are still warm.

Khan el-Khalili Market is in the old city of Cairo. Dozens of ancient alleys are crowded with tourists, choosing their favorite products in the dazzling array of shops. This is the largest market in the Middle East and the most famous specialty commodity street in the world.

There are hawking calls mixed with various accents, and Chinese signs such as "Come in and see" and "Baicai Price" can be seen everywhere.

The Asian lady wearing a straw hat was haggling in half-Chinese and half-English words, and when she was in a hurry, she stretched out her fingers to make signs, while the old Arab man wearing a headscarf shook his head like a rattle. I finally bought that seemingly ancient and mysterious souvenir, and held it in my hands with great joy. Suddenly, I found a line of English printed on the label: made in china.

The Japanese tourist on the other side took a fancy to a papyrus painting and had already agreed on the price. He took out one hundred Egyptian pounds from his wallet. The bearded boss opposite had quick eyes and quick hands and quickly took out two Egyptian pounds from the Japanese tourist's wallet with three fingers. There was a large sheet of Egyptian pounds, shouting: "You heard wrong, you heard wrong, it's two hundred Egyptian pounds." The papyrus painting was already in his hand. The Japanese tourist argued a few words and found that the Japanese tourist who just now spoke fluent English The shop owner could only speak Arabic now, and with no one to help him and a language barrier, he could only admit that he was out of luck.

Even at night, Khan Khalili Market is bustling with activity. The neon lights on the front doors of hookah bars and cafes shine together with the colorful lights on the road. The goods in the shops are sprinkled with a halo, making them more mysterious and beautiful, tempting tourists to buy everything.

It is said that this place was originally the royal cemetery of the Fatimid Dynasty. At the end of the 12th century, the last ruler of the Fatimid dynasty, Caliph Adid, was overthrown by his minister Saladin and the Janissaries, and the dynasty was destroyed. Two hundred years later, their cemetery was also destroyed and converted into an inn. The word "Khan" means inn in Persian.

The antiquity and mystery of Khan Khalili Market still remain in people’s hearts. At night, people don't think it's strange if they occasionally see people wearing black clothes and cloaks walking through them.

Howard was wearing black clothes like this, with his face completely covered by his cloak. He pretended to walk casually through the alleys of Khan Khalili Market, bending down from time to time to pick up a product and look at it. On the side of the steps at the entrance of a shop, he saw a triangular arrow, as if a child had drawn it casually with chalk. He put down the goods in his hand and headed in the direction pointed by the arrow.

After making many turns like this, we passed through the back streets of the Hussein Mosque and then turned back to the lively Khan Khalili Market. Howard stopped in front of a house with an ajar door. The number 8 was written in chalk on the door, but the person who wrote it was not very good. The upper and lower ends of the 8 were flat, like a child's work.

A pharaoh's hound squatted at the door of the house. This kind of dog has noble blood, and their appearance appears in ancient Egyptian murals four thousand years ago. Not far from the dog, there was an old Arab man selling hookahs. He turned his wrinkled face and glanced at Howard.

Howard pushed the door open and went in. Inside was a long and narrow corridor with a voice-activated light on the top, but it didn't seem to work very well. It turned on and off sometimes. There are many murals on both sides of the aisle, all imitating ancient Egyptian murals, which look very mysterious in the dim light. Howard had the illusion of walking into an ancient pharaoh's tomb.

The passage is a bit long and has an arc that you can't quite feel. After advancing for a while, a door appeared. Entering the door was a room, then a staircase. After going up the stairs, there was another arc-shaped passage, and then he arrived at his destination - the secret stronghold of his dream in Cairo.

Howard left Amsterdam at the same time as Huang Liang, Huang Liang went to North America, and he came to Cairo. He didn't know what Huang Liang's mission was when he went to North America. Anyway, the second leader would make specific arrangements. This Chinese would be a very important member of the organization in the future. Howard was very happy that his former subordinate could be favored by the second leader. He is not worried that Huang Liang will surpass him, because the organization still has strict disciplines and systems. He is the elder and backbone of the organization. Only a very few people can come to such an important gathering as today.

Howard is very excited because today he will meet the most mysterious and important figure in the organization, whose status even exceeds that of the leader - the legendary person who inherits the memory of their race - the ancestor!

Howard took off his cloak and greeted the others who had arrived. He knew most of these people, and they were all leaders of the organization in various regions. He didn't see the second leader, and felt a little strange. Logically speaking, when the ancestor summoned him, the second leader must be present.

Not long after, the side door of the room opened with a bang, and a person walked out. The man, like Howard, was wearing a dark trench coat with a cloak. He folded his hands in front of his chest to form a crossed X, and the wide cloak covered his entire face. He walked into the house slowly, his steps so light that he made no sound. However, the air in the room seemed to freeze instantly, making people feel suffocating.

Howard felt like he was being strangled by the throat, unable to breathe and unable to struggle. It made him feel like he hadn't seen him for a long time. Yes, it had been a long time since he'd had a nightmare. He was sure that the person in front of him was Yizu. Who else could have such a powerful spiritual power besides Yizu!

Yizu stood in front of them, with his head lowered, and slowly stretched out his hand, his fingers like dry branches. He gently turned his hands back and lifted the cloak on his head.

Howard saw the face of his ancestor - it was a zombie-like face, with taut muscle fibers clearly visible. However, there was a thin layer of translucent new skin on the surface, densely covered with spiders. Silky red capillaries. His cheeks were sunken, and his eye sockets were misty, sometimes like two deep black holes, sometimes with a little white eye.