Chapter 250 Backlund Great Smog

How should I put it? Maybe it's like Adam writing a script, he can't help but use the real creator as an all-purpose wonderful tool.

Although the Fool has been used up and the wool should not be grabbed by a sheep, Gu Meng still can't help but use the Fool as the initial observation coordinate when writing dreams.

…

A certain desperate lady who is a puppet has no expression on her face, like a puppet, she walked out of the alley and entered the street.

Her steps are very slow, as if she is wandering in the sea of ​​fog.

Wherever she passes, the fog is imperceptibly thicker, stained with a little iron black color, and the distance is quietly reduced.

After she left the street, a homeless man wearing an old jacket and a sallow face suddenly coughed, coughing violently, and fell to the ground.

The two poor people who were very close to the homeless man retreated in fear, and then covered their throats, making hoarse sounds, as if they had a serious lung disease or bronchitis and were already out of breath. At the same time, there were traces of burns on their bodies.

If Audrey saw it, she would probably feel familiar, it was the crazy fire she had seen in her dream.

The iron-black and light-yellow smog descended on the East District, the dock area, and the factory area that was spewing smoke, and continued to spread to the entire Backlund, and the black flames in the fog also spread.

Various scenes in the distance were submerged, and even the towering clock tower was left with only a light-colored shadow. One by one, the workers and the poor felt uncomfortable. The homeless people who struggled to fight the cold and hardship surrounded the route of the puppet, and fell ill one after another. Human life was as fragile as the foam when washing clothes.

Ms. Despair's expression became more and more empty, as if she was completing a work of art. Of course, all of this was an oil painting. Backlund was about to be pulled into a dream by Gu Meng's divine power. People had entered the story and turned into words in the wash of time.

The history of the Kingdom of Loen will remember this day: the Backlund smog/fire incident.

…

The dark valley has been completely covered by the dark and illusory water surface. In the valley, Gu Meng's body walking in the water suppressed Adam in the Book of Chaos with one hand, and held "0-08" in the other hand. His writing did not stop.

The pen tip frantically arranged absurd, ridiculous, thrilling and terrifying stories wherever it could be written:

"Klein... Ms. Despair... Mr. A... Flame... The story in the dream, the history in the prophecy, the real illusion, overlap here, and will open the door to the overlap of reality and illusion..."

… …

On a street deep in the East District.

Old Kohler hurried back to the rented apartment holding the ham in the paper bag.

He looked around warily, afraid that those hungry guys with wolf-like eyes would pounce on him and snatch his food. When he was still in the countryside, he had seen wolves before, but he didn't expect to feel that familiar feeling in Backlund.

He is now an employee of the Phoenix Order's drug factory, and his life is better than most workers. After all, Gu Meng is not short of money and is not interested in money. To be honest, the salary he gives is a bit of a violation of the rules, but Gu Meng is not afraid of those troubles.

"Thank you Mr. Malfoy and Master Snape... Did I spend too much money? Buy less next time... This is enough for me to eat during the New Year holiday. I can have two, three, no, at least five slices of ham for every meal. I can also cut some and stew soup with potatoes, and I don't even need to add salt..."

Thinking of this, Old Kohler looked at the ham in his arms, looking at the red meat mixed with a lot of white, and his throat couldn't help but move a little, and swallowed a mouthful of saliva.

As he walked, he felt that the fog around him was much thicker. The church bell tower that was still clear in the distance was gradually swallowed up by the mixture of light yellow and iron black. The pedestrians around him were only vague shadows if they were more than ten steps away.

Although the fog was too outrageous, since it was Backlund, it was understandable.

What was really hard to understand was why there was a black flame in the shadow? What was that?

Old Kohler instantly felt like he was in a dream and raised his palm to cover his mouth and nose.

"Something is wrong, am I dazzled? And why is the fog so bad today?"

He was a little panicked and quickened his pace.

One step, two steps, three steps, Old Kohler felt his face was getting hot and his forehead seemed to be burning.

His chest was tight, his throat was uncomfortable, and he soon had symptoms of difficulty breathing.

"Are you sick? It seems that the flame is an illusion of my fever. Damn it, I still want to have a wonderful New Year. Now I can only send my savings to the clinic and the hospital... No, maybe I will be fine after a good sleep, just cover myself with my quilt and have a good sleep!" Old Kohler muttered silently to himself, his head getting hotter and hotter, and more and more confused.

Hehe, hehe, hehe, he heard his own difficult breathing, his hands softened, and the paper bag containing ham fell heavily to the ground.

Old Kohler subconsciously squatted to pick it up, but fell there.

He pressed the bag of ham and tried to put it in his arms.

At this moment, he thought that thick phlegm was surging and blocking his throat, so he struggled hard and made a sound like a bellows.

Plop! Old Kohler's blurred vision saw someone falling a few steps away.

Suddenly, he had an epiphany and knew that he was about to die.

This reminded him of his wife and children, who were also like this, suddenly infected with the plague and died soon.

This reminded him of the time when he was hospitalized for illness. The patients in the same room were still laughing and chatting that night, but by early morning they had been sent to the morgue.

This reminded him of the friends he met when he was a homeless man. After a winter, many of them disappeared, and were eventually found stiff under bridges or in street corners sheltered from the wind. A small number of them died from sudden access to food.

Emperor Russell was right when he said that things are fickle. I thought that time would turn around and I would be lucky enough to become a non-unemployed worker again, and my salary would be greatly improved, but fate always catches people off guard.

This reminded him of Backlund's harsh environment over the years, including working and living conditions.

Yes, over the years, neighbors on the block have also died so suddenly. Some of them died of headaches and convulsions, some accidentally fell into the molten steel just out of the furnace, some had bone pain and swelling all over their bodies, and some died of swelling. Some even fell silently into the factory, batch after batch.

This reminded him of what he once heard a drunkard say in a bar. He said:

"People like us are like straw in the field. When the wind blows, we will fall down. Even if there is no wind, we may fall down..."

The wind is coming... Old Kohler suddenly had this thought.

While hugging the paper bag containing the ham tightly, he reached for the pocket of his old jacket, trying to take out the crumpled cigarette that he had been reluctant to smoke.

What he couldn't understand was why he, who was healthy, would suddenly become sick. He had never experienced such a thick fog before.

What he couldn't understand was that his life had just gotten on the right track and was developing in a good enough direction. He had a stable job and a kind boss. He bought a piece of ham that he had been thinking about for a long time to welcome the New Year and was looking forward to tasting it. It was so delicious, why did it suddenly fall down?

Old Kohler took out the crumpled cigarette, but he could no longer lift his arm and hit the ground hard.

He used his last strength to shout out the words he had accumulated in his heart, but he could only let the weak words linger around his mouth, unable to come out.

He seemed to hallucinate his last words.

He heard himself asking:

"Why?"

If it were a world without demons, the reason for this would be the industrial revolution, capitalism, and extreme pursuit of profit. These real factors. Since this is a world with high demons, these things could have been avoided. The reason is naturally that these are necessary sacrifices. .

Just when he was dying, he saw that the flame in the shadow had burned onto his body. He even had a vision of a girl holding a flame on the street. Although she was a girl, she also looked like a goddess.

He inexplicably thought of Emperor Russell's famous fairy tale "The Little Match Girl". There will be illusions in the flames. Am I dreaming?

Must be part of it an illusion, right? Which ones are true and which ones are false?

Am I about to starve to death in the process of being homeless and unemployed, and my experiences during this period are all imaginary? That's right, what factory would give such good treatment...

Everything becomes blurry.

…………

In an apartment on the edge of the East End.

Liv, who had been helped by Xiao Ke, who was transformed into the Black Emperor, hung up the last piece of washed clothing and waited to dry.

She looked at the sky outside, and was a little confused by the fog that had become thicker at some point.

"Anyway, it's still very early, and our washing work has been completed..." Liv's expression gradually became heavy.

Finishing work too early is not a good thing. It does not mean that you can rest. It only means that there is insufficient work and insufficient income.

Liv took a breath, turned around and said to her eldest daughter Freya, who was wiping her hands and looking straight at the vocabulary book in the next room:

"It's almost the New Year, and most of our employers have left Backlund to go on vacation elsewhere. We can't continue like this and have to find new jobs."

Just as Liv opened the door, she suddenly stumbled and fell to the ground.

Cough cough cough! She coughed violently, her face turned red, and every joint in her body ached unbearably.

Freya ran over in panic and squatted down:

"Mom, what's wrong with you? Mom, what's wrong with you?"

"No, cough, I have no problem." Liv's breathing gradually became difficult.

"No, you are sick, you are sick! I will take you to the hospital immediately!" Freya tried her best to help her mother up.

"It's too expensive, it's too expensive, cough, go to Charity Hospital, Charity Hospital, I can wait, no, it's not a big problem." Liv replied breathlessly.

Freya shed tears and her vision quickly blurred.

At this moment, she felt her body burning up, and her body collapsed, causing Liv to fall to the ground again.

"Am I sick too?" As soon as she thought this, she realized that was not the case.

"Freya, what's wrong with you? Why is there fire on you? Ahem, hurry up, go to the water tank outside."

Liv shouted anxiously, "Unfortunately, this flame is not an ordinary fire and cannot be extinguished by water."

But surprisingly, although Freya was speechless, she didn't feel that she was suffering. The flame didn't hurt when it burned?

Her body suddenly twitched.

Liv's coughing stopped suddenly, and her body was ignited with flames. She remained motionless, as if she was dead or in a dream.

…

In the East District, the docks, and the factory district, those who were old or had hidden illnesses fell one after another in the fog like felled trees, and those who came into contact with them were infected with the plague and died quickly.

In their eyes, the yellowish and iron-black fog was like the coming of the god of death.

The real history should be called the Backlund Great Smog.

But in another dimension, it was the same plot, but it was not. These fallen people did not die in the fog, but fell into eternal sleep in the flames.

The pictures from two angles appeared at the same time, and the truth ushered in a choice.

………

……

Destiny, time, and history are like a long river that flows endlessly. Rivers always flow into the sea, but this river will never end.

"Are these enough as sacrifices——"

Gu Meng dispersed the destiny and the collected time and space power in his palm, and let it impact freely in his special dream dungeon, in the unfinished level.

There is no purpose, only power to drive.

Sure enough, there was no result. They were distorted under Gu Meng's authority, but in the end they could not make any changes in the real history and would only merge into the torrent.

Gu Meng could feel that these powers that carried his pollution did not disappear, nor did they return just like that, because the system woven by Gu Meng was unique and had no precedent. This world with strict rules gave birth to such a bug-like power that exceeded the rules, which was the fruit of immortality and difficult to eliminate by itself.

So these powers were taken back into Gu Meng's palm again and used again. They were squeezed into the tip of 0-08's pen and turned into ink. They were used in the form of writing stories on their own secret devices. 0-08 began to tremble, but Gu Meng did not hesitate to use it. After all, it was not his own thing.

Now using this pen is just a makeshift, as long as the Book of Chaos is fine. As for the characteristics, they can be recycled anyway. Even if Gu Meng wants to destroy it now, he cannot destroy the characteristics of Sequence 1. The immortality of extraordinary characteristics is not a theorem that he can distort now.

Compared to throwing it with bare hands, writing is indeed different. Gu Meng's power has long reversed cause and effect under the blessing of the source of chaos, pulling Backland into his dream. In the interweaving of reality and illusion, through the choice of observation, time and space have the opportunity to be dislocated.

The bug of Gu Meng's armor is that even if it is just a fabricated ability, it has the possibility of becoming a reality under the blessing of deep blue. If the last time he wore armor, the ability to travel through time and space and transfer spirit particles was purely fictional, it was all a dream. Any similarity is purely coincidental. It is not a parallel world. It is just a relatively real dream formed by ability and subconsciousness. But when he walked up the long steps to ascend to the gods and successfully added points, this time it was completely different...

The strict space-time barrier had a crack, which could accommodate some tiny insects to drill in.