Chapter 553 Whose Right Hand

Angel looked around blankly and found that he had appeared in darkness without knowing when.

Someone was whispering in his ear.

What was he saying? Angel frowned. He couldn't hear clearly, but he felt that many people were whispering in his ear, and there might even be the roar of animals.

For some reason, he felt that such a scene was extremely familiar, as if he had experienced it not long ago?

But when did he experience it? Angel couldn't remember.

Or rather, his mind was in chaos now, and there was basically no room for thinking and recalling.

He stood up, listening to the rustling sound in his ears, and didn't know what to do now. But when he turned around accidentally and saw a light in the distance, he was stunned, and then subconsciously pursued the only light in the darkness.

The light was far away from him, but it never changed, like a lighthouse in the dark, pointing him in the direction of the road ahead.

The whispering continued, making Angel feel a little irritated. In particular, as he got closer to the light spot, the whispers became louder and louder, different languages, different races, different frequencies, all shouting the same short sound.

After walking for an unknown amount of time, Angel finally arrived at the light spot.

This is a door.

But in Angel's current chaotic thinking, he felt that this "door" was probably a mirror? This strange thinking was because he saw a figure facing him inside the door.

Angel and the person inside the door stood opposite each other. It made him feel like he was looking in the mirror.

Even though he couldn't see the appearance of the person inside the door, his clothes were gorgeous and strange, and his hair was long, and he didn't look like him at all; but he still felt that the person inside the door was probably... himself?

This illogical idea, in his current thinking that was tangled like a ball of yarn, seemed like a truth.

"Are you me?" Angel murmured in a low voice.

There was no answer from the other side.

Angel raised his right hand in doubt and slowly stretched it over, wanting to touch the other person's face.

His right hand passed through the "door".

The person inside the "door" also raised his hand, and stretched out his hand like Angel. The two people's hands met at this time.

"So cold." Angel touched the other person's hand, and the only feeling he had was coldness.

It was like falling into an ice cellar.

This cold touch made Angel feel very familiar. It seemed that he had touched it somewhere not long ago?

"What are you touching?" A low voice came into Angel's ears.

Angel thought that this voice was said by the person inside the door. He was about to answer, but found that in an instant, all the whispers in his ears disappeared, the darkness slowly faded, the light began to expand, and even the "door" in front of him was broken into several pieces.

Then, Angel opened his eyes.

He saw a person who was very familiar to him, wearing a black gentleman's suit... Sanders.

Angel hadn't reacted yet. He was clearly looking at the "mirror", how could he suddenly become Sanders?

At this time, he saw a hint of teasing in Sanders' eyes.

Teasing? Why teasing? Following Sanders' gaze, Angel looked down. He saw his right wrist being pinched by Sanders, and his hand was unconsciously grasping the air.

Angel woke up instantly. Looking back around, he found himself in an unfamiliar room, and under him was a wooden bed.

So he was just dreaming?

Then his wrist was grabbed by Sanders, could it be that he was touching something in his dream? Angel thought of his dream, he did feel something cold, could it be that he touched Sanders?

When Angel thought of this possibility, he felt a chill down his spine. The other party was Sanders, the Southern Territory God of Killing who was serious about his words and smiles. If he was so presumptuous, would Sanders chop off his hand? After all, I am his apprentice, I shouldn't...right?

Angel retracted his hand with embarrassment, then lowered his head and quickly admitted his mistake: "Teacher, I was wrong. I was dreaming just now, and I didn't mean to imitate you..."

Sanders was stunned for a moment, and laughed and scolded: "What mess are you thinking about? I'm asking you, what are you touching?"

"Aren't I touching you?" Seeing Sanders's disgusted face, Angel knew that he had guessed wrong before, and quickly changed his words: "I'm touching the air...right?"

Sanders shook his head, and his face changed from the previous relaxed state to serious: "No, you are thinking."

"I didn't touch anything...No, I seemed to have grabbed someone's hand in my dream." Angel recalled his previous dream.

In the dream, his thinking was chaotic. But he still remembered the general content.

"Whose hand?" Sanders' expression was serious, and his eyes were staring at Angel's right hand.

Angel followed the direction of his eyes and focused his eyes on his right hand.

His eyes froze instantly.

Is this his hand? Starting from the wrist that Sanders had pinched before, the entire palm almost completely changed.

Compared with his left hand, the phalanges of his right hand seemed to have become longer. He took out his left hand and put it tightly against his right hand.

Each finger of his right hand was one knuckle longer than that of his left hand.

And the weirdest thing was that when he moved his right hand, strange lines flashed with green light and swirled around his right hand.

Angel frowned tightly. Is this hand mine?

Angel tried to pinch his palm, and his right hand was under control. He tried to control the green lines floating near his right hand, but those green lines were completely out of control.

The control of the hand was the same as before, but Angel was too unfamiliar with this hand.

His right hand had been with him for nearly sixteen years, so Angel would not make a mistake. This hand was obviously not his, but why could he control it freely?

"Put aside your research first, there will be plenty of time to study it later. Answer me, whose hand did you catch?" Sanders interrupted Angel's thinking and asked again.

Angel shook his head: "I don't know, I can't see clearly... He is in the mirror, no, it's inside the door. I don't know who he is, and I don't even see clearly whether he is a man or a woman."

"Is it a long golden hair?" Sanders asked.

Angel shook his head and nodded: "It's long hair, but I can't see the color. The clothes he wore seemed to be gorgeous, but the color was still unclear." After a pause, Angel looked at Sanders with doubts: "Teacher, how do you know? Did you see him too?"

Sanders didn't answer him immediately, but asked about Angel's entire dream.

When Angel finished telling the scene in his dream, Sanders asked about his experience after entering the witch town.

Angel still didn't hide it, and told him about the strange wooden house and the old witch he encountered. After listening, Sanders was silent for a moment: "You said that you met that person in your dream, and in your chaotic thinking at that time, you thought it was you?"

Angel nodded.

Sanders was silent for a moment and rubbed his temple: "When I found the wooden house you mentioned, I saw two people. One was you, and the other was covered by the fog, but I saw that he had long hair similar to your hair color."

"When I approached, he turned into fog and disappeared."

Angel: "So, the mentor didn't see what that person looked like?"

Sanders nodded: "Although I didn't see what that person looked like, I saw his hand holding your right hand. To be precise, it was merging with your right hand."

"His hand, my hand, merging?" Angel looked at the strange right hand and felt that everything was absurd.

This hand did not belong to him, but to another long-haired person?

It should be the person in the door he dreamed of.

But why did he do this? Where did his own hand go?

He squeezed his right hand hard, and he could feel a strong force contained in it, but no matter how strong it was, it was strange.

Suddenly, Angel's eyes condensed.

He found that when he was pinching, there were signs of blood flowing in his hand, but... he was clearly a soul now, how could there be blood flowing?

"You finally found it?" Sanders raised his eyebrows: "Your right palm has become a physical body."

"The right hand has become a physical body?" Angel was surprised and raised his left hand quickly.

However, the left hand was still in the form of a soul, or in other words, only his right hand was a physical body.

Then, Angel thought of something terrifying.

The right hand in the nightmare world became a physical body, so what about the right hand in reality? Is it his, or that of the long-haired man?

What's more, if he leaves the body in reality, whose right hand should it be in the soul?

The more Angel thought about it, the more he felt cold sweat all over his body.

Sanders said at this time: "I just said that the man's hand merged with your right hand, which may be a little wrong."

"What's wrong?"

"It seems that he is merging with your hand, but it seems that he is pulling your right hand from the wizard world to the nightmare world." Sanders paused: "Maybe both, but we need to wait until we return to the wizard world to confirm it."

"Before that, don't use your right hand." Sanders took a look at the green lines surrounding Angel's right hand, and there was a hint of fear in his eyes. Although the green lines seemed to have no energy, there was always a kind of obscure sense of horror every time he looked at it.

Angel nodded and leaned against the head of the bed in a somewhat depressed manner.

If it is true as Sanders said, he really lost a lot of money this time in the nightmare world and lost his hand.

Seeing this, Sanders thought for a moment and said: "I have a guess, maybe your hand is not lost, this is most likely your hand."

Angel looked over.

Sanders: "Didn't you say that the person you met in your dream was you? Although you were in a state of confusion at the time, perhaps that's why your guess was correct."

"He might be you, but he was projected by the nightmare world."