Journey to another world in the subway

Chapter 149 Charm
Year after year, Homer's Moscow is getting old, declining, and gradually weathered.

Homer wanted to comfort the weather-beaten subway bridge like the girl in Kolomna Station, gently stroking his fiancé who was dying of blood loss.

There were other bridges in his imagination, the corners of factory buildings and isolated beehives on residential buildings, and he wanted to enjoy them all.

Touch them, feel them, put yourself in them, not just in your sleep, and be prepared to say goodbye to them forever.

Visibility is extremely poor, sight is extremely poor, and the silvery moonlight cannot penetrate the thick cloud released by the filter, and Homer has to fumble.It's nothing, he's not used to dreaming into reality.

He completely complied with his own inner world, and his mind was filled with only the legendary stories he was supposed to write, only the enigmatic pad that disturbed his thoughts all the time, and nothing else.

During this trek, Homer behaves like a child:
He often lags behind, looking at the blurred silhouettes of those tall buildings with fascination, shaking his head, and talking to himself.

For the others, it was obvious that the act of crossing the bridge did not bring them any pleasure.

The hunter kept facing forward, stopping only occasionally to look at the noisy river below the bridge.

The rest of the time he kept his eyes fixed on a point ahead, a point that no one else could see.

There the road dropped back into the ground.

The girl was sitting behind Su Mengfan, holding the captured gas mask tightly with both hands for some reason.

It was obvious: she wasn't feeling well.

When they were still walking in the tunnel, the girl looked very tall, but when they stepped on the ground, she seemed to be dead, as if curled up in an invisible shell, even the body that had been removed from the corpse The torn protective suit was also much larger than her size.

None of the views from the bridge appealed to her, and she just stared at the floor in front of her.

There is no artificial coquettishness on her body, she is not that kind of person at all.

It seems that she not only despises lethal weapons, but also despises the arsenal of ordinary women—the gentle expression, the pose, the flickering eyelashes are enough to fan a hurricane, and the half-smile is not only enough to make herself go through fire and water, but also enough to kill others .

Is it because she hasn't mastered these skills and learned to use these weapons?

Either her weapons have no targets at all.

No, there are already.

But it's not the average woman's arsenal that attracts the guy next to her.

It's a charm that belongs only to her.

Let that person fall into it deeply, unable to extricate himself.

And this charm only belongs to her, but it attracts countless people.
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And in such a dead night, the entrance to the tunnel was covered by a darkness that could not be reached.

The fully enclosed protective suit became a complete shackle for Homer, and he himself became a medieval cavalry who accidentally broke into the cave where the dragon inhabited in the fairy tale.

The noise of the city's night stopped at the cave entrance, where the hunter ordered the railcars to be dropped.

Now all they could hear were the four men's timid footsteps and mean conversation among themselves, and the echoes bouncing off the short pipes.

But the tunnel with sound was so unusual that even Homer felt the airtightness of the space, as if they had passed through a bottleneck and entered a glass bottle.

"It's closed." Homer's fears were confirmed by the hunter.

The light of the flashlight was the first to reach the head: further on, the closed airtight door stood there, becoming a wall of silence.

Crystal light flashed from time to time on the broken rails, it was oily light.

There are old boards scattered on the ground, cut and withered subway lines, and unburned pieces of wood, as if someone had just lit a bonfire here.

The gate is clearly activated, but probably inaccessible, as there is neither a bell nor any other means of notifying those inside from this side of the gate.

The hunter glanced at Su Mengfan.

"Has it always been like this here?"

"Sometimes their people come out and come to our side to do business. I think, today..." Sasha seemed to want to prove herself.

She knew that this place was impassable, but was she going to hide this?

The hunter began to slam the door with the back of his machete, as if knocking on a huge lock.

But the door was made of too thick steel, and instead of a loud hum that answered him, it was a limp clang.

To the people on the other side of the wall, there may not be any difference between the two, of course, if there is anyone alive there.

Miracles didn't happen.

They did not wait for a response.

Although Sasha knew in her heart that no one would come to open the door for them, she still dared not tell the three people around her that the entrance to the large subway system was closed.

What if they suddenly decided to go another way, and abandoned her where she had been found?
No one in the entire subway was waiting for them, answering the door for them, and none of the three people could pry open the airtight door.

The hunter scrutinized the door for a weak spot or a hidden secret lock.

But Sasha knew: there was no lock on the door on their side, and the door could only be opened from the opposite side.

"Don't move here. I'll go for reconnaissance, check the sealing valve at the second tunnel entrance, and look for other ventilation shafts."

Hunter finished speaking in one breath, then remained silent for a while, and added puzzlingly: "I will definitely come back."

After speaking, he disappeared from the sight of the other two.

Homer simply gathered the planks scattered around and lit a feeble bonfire.

He sat directly on the sleepers, reached into his backpack, and rummaged through his belongings.

Su Mengfan glanced at Homer and sat next to Homer.

Sasha sat down next to Su Mengfan and secretly observed Homer's behavior.

In her opinion.

Homer didn't know why he was particularly interested in himself, it wasn't as simple as finding inspiration for novels that Hunter said.

Watching him perform a pantomime by himself—maybe for them, maybe just for himself.

After finally pulling out the torn and filthy book from the rucksack, he immediately looked at Su Mengfan cautiously, turned sideways in the other direction, sat a little far away from Su Mengfan, and looked at Su Mengfan with his back bent. stand up.

After a while, he jumped up again with agility beyond his years-to make sure that the hunter had really left.

Satisfied with his recreational precautions, he slid awkwardly to ten paces from the exit of the tunnel, finding nothing suspicious.

He rushed to the direction of the sealed door and sat down, separated himself from Su Mengfan's sight with his rucksack, and immediately immersed himself in reading.

(End of this chapter)