I descend into the world of heaven
Chapter 115 Gumantong in the shrine
It was four o'clock in the morning, it was still dark, there was dew, and it was very cold.
An old bicycle is parked outside the old bookstore. There was dim orange light in the window of the bookstore room, and there were figures moving around. I saw an old man wearing a plaid shirt and glasses, with a wrinkled face and disheveled hair. He was probably in his sixties and lying on the floor. In front of the desk, he opened a blank book, holding a pen in his right hand and drawing something at a very fast speed, his eyes were bloodshot as if he was going crazy...
This is a new "Ten Ways to See Hell" book with blank content.
The old man was writing in it the operation method of "Cup Fairy" from the Ten Methods of Hell, and then on another page he drew a scene of six young men and women playing Cup Fairy around a table...
If Dezi and the others were here and saw the painting, they would definitely be able to recognize it at a glance. The painting above shows them playing Cup Fairy. Although it is a simple drawing, each person has all the characteristics of their image and is easy to recognize.
After the old man finished drawing six figures, he pricked his finger with the tip of the pen, dropped the blood into the ink bottle, stirred it a few times, then held the pen bag and sucked it up...
He stared with blood-red eyes and traced the outline of each person from left to right. When he was about to trace Chang Gui, an old and withered hand like a branch stretched out from the side to cover Chang Gui's image: "Ovi De, are you tracing a little too fast..."
The old man slowly exhaled a breath.
Covering the new "Ten Ways to See Ghosts", he said gloomily: "Those young people from abroad, haven't anything happened yet? The book that was taken away by Chang Gui contains the instructions for haunting ghosts that I personally ordered." , there is no reason why nothing happened! Are you really sure that the book your son Changgui took out was my book and not a used one? "
Sitting on the wicker chair next to the desk was an old woman who was about sixty years old. She was none other than Changgui's mother. When she heard the shop owner say this, her face turned ugly: "Ovid, You have been suffering from this disease for twenty years and are still not dead. Use your brain to think about who has helped you for so many years."
When the boss saw her angry, he raised his hands: "Okay, okay, it's boring to talk about this. You helped me survive for twenty years, and I also helped you take the blame thirty years ago. The next thirty years will be , I am disfigured and huddled in a poor place like the countryside with this ugly face, and I don’t even have any descendants, how can you still show my face?”
Changgui's mother reached out and grabbed a few pieces of paper on the desk with simple drawings of several people on them, lit them with a lighter and threw them into the copper basin next to them, burning them to ashes.
Her eyes fell on a small shrine on the bookshelf in the room, with dark red electronic candles and an incense burner enshrining a black lump no more than the size of a palm, with faint traces of a head visible.
She said coldly: "Ovid, you have been raising Gumantong for twenty years. You have used ghosts to absorb the vitality and good luck of those young people. Your ability is getting stronger and stronger. I am afraid it is about to take shape. You are sure Suppress it?
Gumantong is the best as a baby, with complete consciousness and the ability to understand human speech. If you cultivate it from an embryo, no matter how connected you are, it will always be a monster without even a human form..."
The words just fell.
Two flashes of red light appeared on the black hard head in the shrine, as if angered by Changgui's mother's words.
It made an indistinct sound, and Changgui's mother chuckled. She took out a small jar similar to a mini urn from her pocket and opened it. It was filled with crawling insects. She grabbed a handful and put it in her mouth. Chew it a few times and spray it hard towards the shrine...
The boss hurriedly stretched out his hand to stop...
The insect corpses mixed with saliva sprayed on his palm, but a little fell on the Gumantong in the shrine.
Immediately, the shrine trembled crazily as if it had been hurt, and the faint sound of a baby crying could be heard. The skin of the boss's palm was sprayed by the saliva mixed with insect corpses, and it rotted quickly as if it had been sprayed with concentrated sulfuric acid, making him tremble in pain.
He opened the desk drawer and grabbed a handful of powder from a small box and sprinkled it on the wound. The corners of his eyes kept twitching, and he saw a large number of tiny maggots coming out of the wound and falling to the floor. He died after a few moves...
After doing this, come to the shrine.
Cut the palm of your hand with a knife, drop the blood on Gumantong's head, and make a soft voice: "Baby, be good, it doesn't hurt, let's ignore this person... Dad is feeding you something, is it delicious?" , and soon you will be able to completely get rid of this old body and be free..."
The smell of the room is really overpowering.
The corpses of insects, blood, ashes, and the rotten smell of a large number of unknown objects were mixed together, even if a normal person smelled it, they would have to kneel on the ground and vomit.
The boss finally comforted the crying Gumantong.
He turned around, the bloodshot eyes were even more obvious. A few drops of blood had just been dropped on Gumantong, making him look about two or three years older in an instant.
He took out gauze and wrapped it around the injured hand, with cold eyes: "Sister's head-lowering technique is still so powerful. I, my younger brother, can't compare to it, whether it's thirty years ago or thirty years later, but don't do it to me again. Gumantong has taken action. If you and I fall out, it’s really not certain who will die...
It doesn't matter that I am alone, but sister, you still have a precious son who is growing up. You don't want to put your son in a shrine to enshrine him, do you? "
Changgui's mother looked directly into his eyes and said after a while: "Gumantong is a ghost spirit, but if you raise it as a ghost ghost, its current ability is probably comparable to that of the fierce ghost master...
I can pretend I didn't see what you are going to do, but if you attack Changgui, haha! "
The boss didn't seem to hear the next half of the sentence, and a proud smile appeared on his face: "Master Ghost? Are you comparing that kind of thing to my precious Gumantong? It is just an evil spirit sealed in a statue, and My Gumantong will be able to leave its body and move freely..."
Changgui's mother didn't want to continue chatting with him, so she stood up to leave.
The boss chased him to the door and said hoarsely: "Sister, I don't care if you hurt Gumantong, but those young people in your family must get one to enter the underworld as a lure within three days, otherwise my ghost-spelling skills will not be fully utilized. !After this matter is completed, Gumantong is completely formed, and I will not look for you again..."
Changgui’s mother said nothing.
She pushed open the door of the bookstore, got on her bicycle and rode slowly towards home.
As she left the bookstore room, the Gumantong in the shrine let out a deafening cry. The boss's face turned ferocious. He cut the wound again, and the blood freely spilled on the Gumantong's body, with a weird laugh. Mixed with the cry of the baby, this morning adds a touch of ferocity...
They found none.
In the corner outside the bookstore.
There was a young man squatting under the window, it was Chen Chu.
He held the evil-proof charm painted in blood tightly in his hand, trying to minimize his presence. He could clearly hear everything that happened in the room between Changgui's mother and the shop owner.
Chen Chu even heard them mention a familiar name, Master Gui. What surprised him was that Changgui's mother and the bookstore owner were still siblings, and neither of them was a fuel-efficient person.
But he had a little question, why did two people from the Sawadika country use the language of the Flower Country when talking in private? Do you know you're eavesdropping, or is there some other reason?
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