Midnight Bookstore Chapter 220 – the art of Death!

This place was originally “Purgatory,”but now, there was something more called the original flavor.

Just like some of the imitations of major international brands, the difference in quality was really very small. Some imitations were even better in quality than the real thing, but in the eyes of consumers, the real thing had a kind of atmosphere that belonged to him, a purity that belonged to him.

At this moment..,

the Real Devil had descended,

all beings were equal,

in front of hell..,

the collective..,

trembled!

At this moment, all the instruments in the various laboratories were vibrating, as if they had sensed a magnetic field and a call. The weapons and tools that had previously killed people seemed to have their own consciousness at this moment.

They began to cheer, they began to be active, and they were even more impatient, waiting for a new round of food that belonged to the devil.

There was the sound of chains rubbing against each other, the sound of scalpels and surgical forceps clashing, the creaking of stretchers, the rustling of doors and windows, and even the cremation workshop used to cremate corpses,

there were also ashes,

they flew everywhere.

The sounds, high or low, neat or messy, were perfectly integrated at this time, forming a passionate rhythm. It was just like Beethoven's Symphony of fate, which was slowly opening at this time, it was heading towards the high… tide.

This was a kind of aura, and also a kind of rendering. It was truly gloomy and truly terrifying. It was a bit like the candlelight on the table. It would not bring any change in the taste of the dishes,

but this sense of form..,

was indispensable.

Zhou Ze, who had lost half of his arm, walked in this research institute. He walked very, very slowly

He watched himself 80 years ago carrying out his own judgment, his own killing,

for the first time,

zhou ze truly realized,

that death,

was really a kind of art.

With its own unique rhythm,

containing its unique charm,

like a fine wine that had been stored for many years, and had been intoxicated by this wine fragrance before he drank it, but now, as he slowly tasted it, the wine fragrance entered his mouth, flowed to the tip of his nose, and finally fell into his stomach, the fiery taste instantly spread throughout his entire body.

It was so comfortable and satisfying that one almost could not help but want to moan!

The white coats were like headless flies in the research institute. They kept running back and forth, screaming, crying, and roaring. When the identities of the Devil and passerby were swapped, reality proved that there was no one who was more noble than anyone else, in the same position and situation, everyone was the same.

In the past, when they faced the struggles and wails of the prisoners in the experimental field, they might still be able to laugh and chat, and they might even be able to discuss which of the nearby comfort stations was more hospitable.

At that time, they were outside, while others were inside. But now, they were inside, and they no longer had the leisure and leisure that they used to have when they were outside.

They encountered the most terrifying ‘ghostly wall'. They knew that they had to run, but they couldn't escape at all.

It was like a lab rat being kept in a container. Their fate was already determined.

Because of Zhou Ze's special instructions..,

therefore, the death scene that followed was not as straightforward as it was at the beginning. Previously, it was the blooming of the Epiphyllum, but now, it was for you to bloom from the bud to the end, and then to completely bloom and then to wither.

Every process could not be missing, every link could not be missing,

from the cultivation of fear, to the initial repression, the details in the middle, the extension of pain in the later stage, the flower of life, such a delicate flower, was slowly burned by countless methods.

Death would not let you die easily, and it would not let you die simply. It would drain every bit of your fear, release your final pain, and even your soul would not be spared.

Don't think that the end of the physical body is freedom,

true Life and death can not begin until the end of your physical body.

One must know that the soul is more sensitive than the physical body. Most of the punishments in Hell are directed at the soul.

If the physical body is compared to a bag, then the soul is the head hiding in it,

who is more sensitive,

everyone knows.

The Art of killing,

the nest of death,

it was constantly noisy, constantly wandering, and constantly crisscrossing.

Zhou ze lowered his head,

he saw that the blood on the ground seemed to have come to life. It was like a master of landscape painting, constantly changing its appearance.

Sinister, mysterious, and ghostly drawing. It was like the stars were embellishing the night sky, carrying a kind of ridicule and ridicule that did not need to be concealed at all.

Puddles of blood continued to stretch over, turning into blood-colored lotuses by Zhou Ze's feet. On each petal was a pained face. It was the spirit of the white coats who had just died. This was their imprisonment, this was their terrifying feast.

It was like watching the scenes on a black-and-white television when they were young. The lines were left blank, and the lines were very messy. The White was also not that white. Under the chaotic changes, it made people dizzy, nauseous, and disgusting.

Zhou ze bent down,

he used his remaining hand to cover his chest,

he felt a little nauseous.

It was not sympathy, nor pity. It was just pure surprise,

his self from eighty years ago,

compared to his current self,

he seemed to be even more ruthless.

That mutilated body was still walking,

he was slowly appreciating his own masterpiece,

at a certain point..,

he would appear in front of a white coat that was still alive and use it as a side dish. He would throw it into the passionate symphony and turn it into a musical note, or he would squeeze out fresh blood to supplement the blood-colored romantic watercolor.

He did not smile grimly,

in fact, other than when he opened his eyes to look at Zhou Ze at the beginning, he had actually closed his eyes.

He looked a little careless,

but he was like the artist who pursued perfection the most, the conductor of the band. He did his duty and did everything to the best of his ability, so that the audience… would be satisfied.

Oh, no,

in fact, it was to make himself satisfied.

A dream that crossed eighty years of time and distance,

each of them was at two ends of time,

what exactly was a dream,

what was a false part of a dream that could be changed,

zhou Ze did not understand, nor did he understand.

But roughly..,

his self from eighty years ago woke up here, began to kill here, and began to purify himself. This should be true.

As for whether he saw his current self eighty years later, whether because he accepted his commission, he made this killing, which was supposed to be very simple for him, more complicated, more tiring, more prolonged, and more enjoyable,

that was unknown.

If he wanted to know the truth,

he could only wait for the secret underground to be dug out,

to leave this dream,

in reality,

to look at the traces left behind eighty years ago,

so as to obtain the most correct judgment.

However,

all of a sudden,

everything seemed to speed up the process,

zhou ze suddenly found that the blood on the ground, which had originally been changing patterns, began to boil,

one by one, the white coats and gendarmes who had been waiting to participate in the feast were all thrown into the various laboratories. The experiments in the laboratories began to continue, and the tools and instruments began to operate on their own, all kinds of experiments began again. Even the notebooks and pens that recorded them began to dance and record their own records.

However, the raw materials were no longer as big as the road they used to talk about. Instead, they became themselves.

However, the change in the melody made Zhou Ze a little shocked. When he looked at the broken figure again, he found that the figure had already appeared in front of him.

He grabbed half of his head with both hands,

it seemed to be very painful,

his body was shaking,

it was as if he could not control himself.

Everything around him was his work, his death art, everything was changing according to his state of mind, and when he began to lose his mind and lose control, everything around him began to extend to the brutal aesthetics of violence.

Screams,

wails,

some of them were alive,

some of them were dead,

they were in even greater pain.

Suddenly,

the broken figure opened his eyes. His eyes were blood red. For a moment, Zhou Ze was stunned.

He was shouting at himself,

he was saying something to himself,

but damn it,

why couldn't he hear a single word!

“I can't hear what you're saying!”

Zhou ze shouted at him. He knew that what the other party was saying was very important. This could even be a message left behind by him eighty years ago.

Through..

The form of a dream.

But he couldn't hear anything. He really couldn't hear anything. In addition, the other party was on the verge of losing control and shouting. Even if Zhou Ze knew lip language, he wouldn't be able to analyze what he was saying.

“Boom!”

“Boom!”

A series of explosions sounded,

this was the sound of several exits being blown up.

The Japanese people on top no longer dared to go down. They planned to seal this place up.

And at this time..,

that broken figure seemed to be getting crazier and crazier,

the blood on the ground kept rising and slowly covered up. At first, it only reached Zhou Ze's feet. Then, it slowly reached Zhou Ze's knees. In the end, it went past his waist.

Zhou Ze really wanted to shout at that figure again. He really wanted to know what he had said just now, but Zhou Ze didn't have time to ask or do anything else because the blood had already drowned him.

Gulp..

His body..,

seemed to have fallen into the depths of the ocean,

around him..,

was a loneliness that caused despair in one's heart,

and below him..,

there was a figure with a broken figure,

it seemed to be looking up as well. However, the distance between the two of them was increasing at a speed that could be seen with the naked eye.

The buoyancy began to increase, and Zhou ze began to rise faster and faster. The suffocating sense of panic also became stronger and stronger.

“Pu…”

When Zhou Ze surfaced from the surface of the water,

he sat up straight from the sofa.

“Huff… huff… Huff… Huff…”

Zhou ze was drenched in sweat and his entire body was drenched,

bai Yingying was still in a deep sleep, but her hair had already returned to the black of a young girl. Even her skin had become more tensed and elastic, as if water could come out from a pinch.

It was like a fresh stamen that had been well nourished by the morning dew.

Zhou ze reached out to cover his forehead,

he was still in a daze,

the scene from before was too crazy and too scary, especially the artistic feeling of the massacre. It made people feel like they were in the center of the symphony orchestra,

no, it was the center of the tsunami!

At this moment,

zhou Ze's phone rang,

he glanced at the screen,

it was actually Zhang Yanfeng's phone.

After picking up the phone, he said weakly, “Hello.”.

On the other end of the phone, Zhang Yanfeng seemed very excited. There was also a loud rumbling sound of machinery beside him. He shouted loudly,

“Hello, the higher-ups have agreed. They're going to dig, they're going to dig…”

They're going to dig?

Zhou Ze was still a little confused,

dig What?

But very soon..,

zhou Ze suddenly came to his senses,

he immediately pointed his phone at his mouth and roared:

“You can't dig, you can't dig now,

you absolutely can't dig it out! ! !”

—— —

PS: It's a new month. Everyone, vote for the dragon.

Don't panic,

hold the dragon tightly!

Chapter end