Chapter 72

Watson naturally didn't know that the gentle and elegant middle-aged man in front of him was the suspicious person the female detective was investigating.

He also stretched out his right palm and shook it with the other party. His sense of touch, which became more and more acute due to his secret practice, seemed to be able to sense the faint smell of disinfectant that the other party had tried hard to clean but still remained in the flesh and blood at the moment of shaking hands.

"Hello, Mr. Morgan, just call me John."

"Hello, Mr. John."

Winfreys nodded and then began to introduce the girl in the wheelchair, "This is my dear daughter Anna... Anna, can you say hello to Mr. John?"

Anna was still unable to move. She could only blink her long eyelashes and gently tap the armrest of the wheelchair with her fingers - Hello.

Even a cold-blooded and ruthless person like Watson would pretend to be gentle and friendly in the face of such a fragile and beautiful thing. He showed a kind smile and waved to the sick and unable to move girl.

"Hello, beautiful Miss Anna."

Anna's beautiful eyes flashed a few times, as if to thank Mr. John for his compliments.

Watson had roughly deduced that this delicate girl probably suffered from amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, which is the famous ALS in later generations. Even in the 21st century, it is an incurable disease.

In the current era, it might be called Charcot disease, which originated from Martin Charcot, a neurologist who first discovered the case in France.

He would not foolishly ask to verify the accuracy of his inference, which would undoubtedly provoke the thorn in the heart of the miserable father in front of him.

They suddenly fell into silence, without talking again, but just tacitly enjoying the rare sunshine... until the sun was covered by the returning dark clouds, and the colorful garden was once again covered with a layer of dead gray color, and the same was true in Anna's eyes.

Anna's eyes were dim again, and even the tall treetops as green as spring could not relieve her sorrow.

Watson's education told him that he should try to make the girl happy at this moment, but his empathy for the day had been exhausted. The British joke library in his mind, which was mainly based on sarcasm and self-mockery, was obviously not suitable for the little girl in front of him. It was difficult to cheer up a girl who was about to die with words. She was in her youth and should be blooming like a flower, but her life had entered the sunset and was about to set in the west, sinking into the cold and dark underground.

Winfreys seemed to be unable to bear to see his daughter continue to be sad. He said sorry and let's talk next time, and turned the wheelchair to push the girl back to the inpatient building.

Watson looked at the lonely backs of the father and daughter as they gradually went away. The moth in his head flapped its wings secretly. He suddenly had some kind of hallucination. In a trance, he seemed to hear the rhythm of the drum, the sound of thunder, and he seemed to witness a hairy monster dancing on the sea. The monster with lightning flashing between its hair was pushing the heavy iceberg that was almost broken while dancing passionately, chasing the direction of the sun setting far away from the sea level.

When he came to his senses, the backs of the father and daughter had disappeared, but Watson couldn't help frowning slightly... It was the secret transmitter again, that was the heart principle and winter principle mentioned by little Victor.

But he could sense that the girl Anna who couldn't move didn't seem to be a simple secret practitioner. The powerful winter phase in her body... seemed to have gone out of control. Rather than being a secret phase, it was more like a scar or illness left by a winter secret transmitter.

"Could it be that the so-called ALS... is actually that mortals are unable to withstand the influence of high-level winter, and their bodies are invaded and corroded by the silent power, resulting in neuronal damage and muscle weakness and atrophy."

"So, this father named Winfreys intends to use the power of the heart principle to cure his daughter's illness?"

"But the forbidden knowledge passed down by Si Chen... is it such a kind power!"

Watson shook his head and decided not to think about it. He also returned to his ward with a cane, and when night fell, he pulled out a hair again and escaped into his dream.

This time, he crossed the dream path and came to the vicinity of the jagged boulder.

He looked at the boulder in front of him, which was as tall as a mountain and as rugged as a church, and still did not rashly move forward to touch it. He always hid his figure in the shadow of the forest, following the ancient trees that stood like a wall like a soldier guarding the border. He tried to bypass the jagged boulder and go directly to a farther place.

I don't know how long I walked, and the boulder finally stopped blocking me.

Watson was also able to glimpse the scene behind the jagged boulders. It was a deep and dark light curtain. The light curtain was tall and magnificent, reaching straight to the sky, like a solid wall defending the unknown land inside the forest.

Inside the light curtain, there was a strange cobalt blue glow, just like the colorful aurora in the night sky of cold regions. It was a brilliant color that was difficult to describe in words and difficult to depict with a brush.

Watson seemed to have reached the real boundary of the forest.

He suddenly felt a kind of bone-chilling coldness, and his soul couldn't help shivering, as if there was an icy breath passing through his body.

The moth in his skull flapped its wings violently, and his pupils flashed a more fluorescent green glow than before. The world in front of him became particularly clear, and he saw an almost transparent gray-white figure wandering in the ancient iron-colored woods.

The figure roughly maintained the outline of a human figure, and even wore neat clothes. It didn't look like a person in a dream at all, and his steps were shaky when he moved, as if his legs and feet were inconvenient.

With a vigilant attitude, Watson slowly moved in front of the figure exuding a cold aura. He vaguely saw an aging face, saw a pair of cloudy and lifeless eyes, and heard the other person's unconscious words. Whisper.

"I...I don't want to die yet...I haven't lived enough yet..."

It turned out to be a dead soul!

Watson felt as if he had come into contact with the core secret of Mansu... It turned out that not only the secret messengers could enter Mansu, but even the souls of the dead would be dragged into this illusory world.

But another question arose in his heart, whether these dead souls... still had the consciousness of their lifetimes. If the other party could still think and talk, wouldn't many suspense cases in reality be easily solved? It looks like Holmes and the other detectives are going to be out of a job.

He first took a few steps back, picked up a stone on the ground, and threw it towards the lingering shadow of the undead - the stone passed through easily, and the illusory body did not even have a ripple. It seems to be just a mirage projected from a distance. It does not exist at all. It will not be touched by this sudden attack. It is still indulged in the memories of its lifetime.

While he was still thinking about how to communicate with the dead soul, a figure approached behind him silently. It was so quiet that even his five senses, which were now far beyond ordinary people, could not detect any footsteps.

"There is no need to try. The souls of the mortal dead have extinguished the light in their skulls and lost their minds long before they entered Mansu."

Ten days have passed since William's death, and I feel itchy and restless... I'm addicted to the blade.