Nightmare Apostle

The guy who chanted the Buddha's name not long ago was the ghost monk. Lu Youcheng's writing was flying. He needed to write more as soon as possible to distance himself from the ghost village chief and buy time for him to catch the ghost monk while he was distracted.

At the same time, he also had a vague feeling that there seemed to be a gaze peeping at him from the villagers below. He couldn't be sure. This feeling came and went.

After writing five scriptures in a row, Lu Youcheng finally found time to look for traces of the ghost monk. At this moment, the ghost village chief behind him had just finished writing the third scripture. When he turned to look at the villagers, Lu Youcheng couldn't help but feel... A shudder.

Changed, the position of the villagers changed, and the originally chaotic group of people became slightly more orderly.

I don't know when a formation formed. Although it is not very clear, you can still distinguish it if you look carefully. The villagers in the entire ancestral hall unconsciously formed a huge formation of about 30 columns and nearly 20 rows.

Hundreds of people gathered together, the scene was quite shocking, but at the same time Lu Youcheng thought of an extremely terrifying reality. He had observed this ancestral hall from the outside before coming. According to this arrangement, the interaction between people Considering the spacing, it is impossible to accommodate so many people.

The ancestral hall he was currently in was a twisted and strange space, big inside and small outside, and he became increasingly convinced that the ghost monk was hiding in it.

He closed his eyes and recalled the direction from which the Buddha's name floated. It should be in the northeast corner far away from him. Then he focused on observing that place. Because it was far away, it was darker there. Every villager lowered his head and kept talking. He was chanting sutras while shaking his head. From his position, they were just blurry black outlines. But the next second, Lu Youcheng suddenly raised his eyebrows, and he found an alternative among the many black figures.

This person is not tall and does not stand out among a group of figures, but the strange thing is that he just lowers his head.

The body barely moves.

Lu Youcheng was almost certain that this person was the ghost monk he was looking for. He marked the other person's location in his mind, which was the third column from the left and the seventh row from the bottom, far away from him.

At this moment, the ghost village chief had finished writing the 4th piece. Lu Youcheng also looked away and began to speed up copying scriptures. This time he planned to write more and write the 10th piece as quickly as possible. He needed to buy a lot of time to think about the ghost monk. The purpose and next action plan, judging from Quan Doufeng's feedback, this ghost monk will definitely not sit down until the end, it is the most deadly.

Lu Youcheng's writing was flying. After copying the 8th piece of paper, he hesitated for a moment, worried that the ghost monk was up to something, so he turned his head and glanced, quickly locating the 3rd column and 7th row, but then, Lu Youcheng His expression suddenly changed, and he saw the figure sitting in row 3 and row 7, shaking his head and reciting scriptures.

Why did the ghost monk start chanting sutras? This was Lu Youcheng's first thought, but soon he realized something was wrong. The person in this position was not the previous ghost monk at all. The difference in their stature was very obvious. , you can tell if you take a closer look.

The ghost monk...disappeared!

Lu Youcheng's most feared situation finally happened. What's more terrifying than seeing a ghost? It's that the ghost he saw suddenly disappeared.

A chill quickly climbed up along the soles of Lu Youcheng's feet, and soon spread to Tianling Gai. He didn't dare to look back at all, for fear of facing the ghost monk's face.

Forcing himself to calm down, he centered his gaze on the intersection of 3 rows and 7 columns and looked around. To Lu Youcheng's surprise, he quickly found the familiar figure. The figure was the same as before, almost motionless.

This time the location is row 4, column 9 from the bottom.

A little closer to me.

Before he could think deeply, there was a sudden sound of turning paper behind him, which instantly attracted Lu Youcheng's attention. If it wasn't for anything else, the ghost village chief's speed seemed to be much faster. He clearly remembered that the ghost village chief had just turned the page not long ago. One page.

After regaining consciousness, Lu Youcheng looked for the ghost monk again, but the figure disappeared again, this time appearing in the 11th row from the bottom of the fifth row.

Lu Youcheng, who realized something, immediately looked away and didn't dare to look again. His heart was beating violently. Something was wrong with this ghost. It was getting closer and closer to him. Every time he glanced at it, it moved a little closer to him. According to this trend, Go down, look at it for at most 5 more times, and you’ll be right in front of you!

And once the ghost monk gets close, the consequences are self-evident.

Lu Youcheng even admired Quan Doufeng now. This kid didn't seem to have any good intentions or smartness, but he didn't expect that he still had a few brushes and actually escaped unscathed. Although he was a bit more like a wolf and fox, he was still a wolf after all. Survived.

But there was one thing that Lu Youcheng didn't quite understand. How did Quan Doufeng do it? Also, the pens, inks, paper and inkstones on the table were very clean, with no signs of being used at all, and no old scriptures that had been copied were found nearby. Text, where did Quan Doufeng sit and copy scriptures? Where did the scriptures he copied go?

But now is not the time to think about this. Lu Youcheng obviously found that the ghost village chief copied much faster. Although it was not as fast as him, it was at least twice as fast as before. This was not a good sign. The house leaked and it rained all night. , soon, Lu Youcheng stopped writing, he encountered the most terrible trouble.

There is no ink in the inkstone.

To be precise, there was no water for grinding ink. There were inkstones and ink sticks, but they were useless without water. Lu Youcheng rummaged through the table and under the table, but there was really not a drop of water.

At this moment, Lu Youcheng looked at the short dagger. He finally understood the use of the dagger. There was not enough ink in the inkstone. If he wanted to grind the ink, he could only use his own blood.

Will copying the scriptures with blood break the precepts? Lu Youcheng was sure that it would not, because there was a red mark on the last word of the first page. Now it seems that it is not red ink, but blood. This is a hint, and everything can be traced.

Time is running out. Lu Youcheng grabbed the dagger and cut his fingertips with the sharp tip of the knife. He didn't care about anything else and wrote directly with blood. He heard the ghost village chief behind him turning the page again. His speed was getting faster and faster. What's more terrifying is that when he cut his finger with the tip of the knife, he vaguely heard a friction sound, which came from the villagers below, as if someone was moving his body.

But Lu Youcheng didn't dare to care at all, and he couldn't care. He squeezed his fingers hard, trying to make more blood flow out, until half of his fingers were squeezed white.

No, this is far from enough. Lu Youcheng decisively cut a knife on his left forearm this time, and blood immediately flowed out. This time Lu Youcheng heard it clearly. At the moment he cut his arm, the friction sound of moving the body sounded again, getting closer and closer to him.

He had no time to care about it. He had already entered a state of madness. He could only continue to dip his blood and continue to write. The speed of the ghost village chief behind him was faster than he thought, and he was about to catch up with his speed. Fortunately, he had a lot of manuscripts in his previous storage, so he could still cope with it. But if it took too long, he would be caught up by the ghost village chief sooner or later. You know, he is a human after all, and humans will get tired, but the ghost village chief will not.

The wound on his forearm gradually turned white. No matter how Lu Youcheng squeezed, there was no longer enough blood to flow out. He didn't expect that the blood used for copying scriptures would be so much. This might be the limitation imposed by the ancestral hall. Lu Youcheng could only find a new place to start. This time he cut open his left arm. The knife was very deep, and blood gushed out.

"Great, more, more!!" Lu Youcheng's eyes were bloodshot, like a gambler who lost red eyes, and the blood in front of him was his chip to survive.