Dreamland Guide

The islands of Xidi and Saint-Louis lie quietly in the Seine River like two leaves, and cruise ships and speedboats pass by the river slowly, like reptiles and ants on the edge of the leaves. When passing by Siti Island, visitors always pay attention to the majestic Gothic church on the island, but unfortunately people never see the iconic spire that once towered high.

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

The French, who has always been known for procrastination, finally officially launched the restoration project of Notre Dame. Paris at the time of the fire was still in spring, and at this time the north wind was roaring.

A worker in a black trench coat and a cloak bent over and staggered in the waste dump area. The worker who was carrying a large piece of wood passing by shouted to him: "Hey, brother, look at your dress, you are also an Assassin's Creed fan, right?"

Another worker said: "Oh, Assassin's Creed, the leap of faith! I know, the spire of the Notre Dame Cathedral also jumped down like this, but it's fun! Haha..."

The "Assassin" with the cloak ignored them, still walking slowly in the waste dump, stopping sometimes, as if looking for something.

"Hey, those are all the scraps that fell from the spire. They have already been counted and numbered. Don't worry about it anymore. Go over there and help!" the worker next to him reminded.

The assassin still walked silently, bowing his head, suddenly seemed to have discovered something, he paused, and squatted down. A gust of wind blew and lifted his cloak, revealing a slightly sparse but conspicuous reddish brown hair.

He picked up something from the ground, hurriedly covered his head with his cloak with his hands, and hurriedly walked towards the side door with his face down.

A few days later, construction experts and cultural relics experts came again to count the waste materials to confirm which ones can still be used in the restoration process and which ones must be replaced with new materials. But when they counted the fragments of the spire, they found that the material numbered 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 cloak, just like Jarno Dorian in Assassin's Creed, he's a weird guy."

Another worker added: "I thought he was here to work just like us. He turned out to be a thief and didn't know how to get in. Oh, by the way, he has red hair, not much of that kind of red hair. See, the police will definitely find him."

The expert asked: "What is the 0371 material?"

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

The expert waved his hand, "Let's go with such a small connecting wood. Anyway, these things are basically useless after being burned. It is estimated that some devout believer picked it up and went home to worship."

...

Although it has been freezing cold on the northern continent, the winter in Egypt is still warm.

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

Cries of various accents come and go, and you can see Chinese signs like "come in and see" and "cabbage price" everywhere.

The Asian lady wearing a summer hat was bargaining in half-Chinese and half-English words, and she stretched out her fingers to make gestures when she was anxious, while the old Arab man wearing a headscarf shook his head like a rattle. Finally, I bought the old and mysterious souvenir and held it in my hand with joy. I suddenly found a line of English: madeinchina printed in an inconspicuous place on the label.

The Japanese tourist on the other side saw a papyrus painting. He had already negotiated the price. He took out one hundred Egyptian pounds from his wallet. The bearded boss on the other side had quick eyes and quickly took two out of the Japanese tourist’s wallet with three fingers. A big Egyptian pound shouted: "You heard it wrong, you heard it wrong, it is two hundred Egyptian pounds." The papyrus painting was already in his hand. The Japanese tourist argued a few words and found that he was still fluent in English just now. The shopkeeper can only speak Arabic at the moment, and he can only admit that he is unlucky if no one is helping and the language is not fluent.

Even at night, the Khan Khalili Market is still very lively. The neon lights at the entrances of hookahs and cafes are shining with the colorful lights on the road. The goods in the shops are sprinkled with a layer of halo, which is more mysterious and beautiful, tempting tourists to buy them.

It is said that this was originally the royal cemetery of the Fatimid dynasty. At the end of the twelfth century, Caliph Adid, the last ruler of the Fatimid dynasty, was overthrown by his guard Saladin, and the dynasty has since been overthrown. Two hundred years later, their cemetery was also destroyed and converted into an inn. The word "khan" means inn in Persian.

The ancient and mystery of Khan Khalili Market remains in people's minds. In the night, people occasionally see people wearing black clothes and cloaks walking through it, and people don't feel surprised.

Howard was wearing such a black dress, with a cloak covering his face tightly. He pretended to walk casually through the alleys of Khan Khalili Market, bending over from time to time to pick up an item to have a look. On the side of the steps at the entrance of a shop, he saw a triangular arrow, like a child drew it casually with chalk. He put down the merchandise in his hand and went in the direction pointed by the arrow.

After turning many turns in this way, he passed through the backstreet of the Hussein Mosque, and then turned back to the lively Khan Khalili market. Howard stopped in front of a room with a concealed door. The number 8 was written in chalk on the door, but the writing character was not very good. The upper and lower ends of the 8 were flat, like a child's masterpiece.

There was a pharaoh hound squatting at the door of the house. This kind of dog has noble blood, and their appearance appeared 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 opened the door and went in. There was a long and narrow aisle with a voice-activated light on the top, but it didn't seem to be very bright. It turned on for a while and turned off. There are many murals on both sides of the aisle, all imitating ancient Egyptian murals, which look very mysterious under the dim light. Howard had the illusion of walking into the ancient pharaoh's tomb.

The passage is a bit long, and there is a curve that is not very perceptible. After going forward for a while, a door appeared. The door was a room, then stairs, and after going up the stairs, there was a curved passage, and then he arrived at his destination—the secret stronghold of Dreams in Cairo.

Howard left Amsterdam at the same time as Huang Liang, Huang Liang went to North America, and he came to Cairo. He doesn't know what mission Huang Liang has to go to North America. Anyway, the second leader will make specific arrangements. This Chinese will be a very important member of the organization in the future. Howard was very happy that his former subordinates could be favored by the second leader. He does not worry that Huang Liang will pass himself, because the organization still has strict discipline and system~www.readwn.com~ He is the veteran and backbone of the organization, like today's important gathering, only a few people can come. .

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

Howard removed his cloak and greeted the others who had arrived. He knew most of these people, and they were the heads of the organization in various regions. He didn't see the second leader, and he felt a little strange. It is reasonable to say that the second leader must be there when the ancestor summoned him.

Before long, the side door of the room slammed open, and a person walked out of it. The man wore a dark cloaked windbreaker like Howard, folded his hands on his chest to form a crossed X, and the wide cloak covered his entire face. He walked slowly into the room, his feet light and silent. However, the air in the room seemed to freeze instantly, which made people feel suffocated.

Howard felt like he was strangling his throat, unable to breathe, and unable to struggle. This made him feel like he hadn't been in for a long time. Yes, he hasn't been haunted by nightmares for a long time. He was sure that the person in front of him was the ancestor, and besides the ancestor, who could have such a powerful spiritual power!

The ancestor stood in front of them, lowered his head, and slowly stretched out his hands, fingers like dry branches. He flipped his hands back gently and lifted the cloak on his head.

Howard saw the face of the ancestor-it was a zombie-like skinny face, you can clearly see the tight muscle fibers, but on its surface there is a thin layer of translucent newborn skin, densely covered with spiders. Silky red capillaries. His cheeks were sunken in, and his eye sockets were misty, sometimes like two deep black holes, and sometimes a little white of his eyes appeared.

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