Alien Hotel

Yu Sheng beat him very carefully.

He first used the mace to carefully beat the cultist's left leg, then his right leg, and then his two arms. In addition to being careful to avoid the restraint shackles installed by the Secret Service, he repeatedly beat each part many times until it was soft and elastic.

The angel cultist was stunned at first, and then began to scream and curse, occasionally making some sounds that were not human. The vague and sharp screams were mixed with some layers of noise, as if there was something else hidden in the seemingly human body. That thing once wanted to struggle out, but was repeatedly beaten back by Yu Sheng.

Then, the cultist began to try to resist or struggle to avoid, but his whole body - even inside his body - was installed or implanted with the Secret Service's suppression device. The restraint rings on his joints prevented him from making too much movement, and the nerve inhibitor in his body made it difficult for him to concentrate on any spells.

Occasionally, the angel's struggle would be too intense, and even faintly break through the control of the restraints and suppression devices. At this time, Irene would take action. Her dark silk threads could even control the terrifying "Wolf Grandma" and the "Hunger" strengthened by the Dark Angel. It was of course even easier to use them to control a weak and bound human.

After an unknown amount of time, Yu Sheng finished the fight. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, took the tetanus stick and walked to the bed next to him and sat down, nodding to Hu Li: "Heal him."

"Yes!"

Hu Li immediately agreed, walked up to the angel, raised her hand and outlined several mysterious and complex spells in the air, and then placed her hand in the air above the other's head - her eyes were glowing with a faint golden-red glow, and the tragic injuries on the cult began to heal rapidly at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Irene watched from the side with her eyes wide open, and couldn't help but exclaimed: "Hey, silly fox, you are really good at this... I didn't believe you when I heard you say you could heal at home, I never saw you use it normally."

"It's not normally used," Hu Li looked up at Yu Sheng, with a bit of resentment in his tone, "Irene doesn't need treatment, benefactor doesn't have time to treat..."

At the same time, the angel cultist who was almost unconscious on the ground finally woke up slowly. This bald man who had a detached attitude before, with calm eyes as if he saw through life and death, was now covered in blood and his clothes were torn. He looked extremely miserable, but he really resisted all the physical pain as Song Cheng said, even now he had no intention of begging for mercy, just staring at Yu Sheng, with a little anger and contempt in his eyes.

Yu Sheng didn't seem to care about the look of the cultist, just walked over with the stick, looking at him calmly.

"Stupid and vulgar," the cultist lying on the ground grinned, blood foam slowly overflowed from the corner of his mouth, and there was even sarcasm in his words, "Do you know how much suffering we have overcome in order to follow the truth? Do you know how much hardship our will can withstand?"

"I don't know," Yu Sheng shook his head, "I'm just playing."

The next second, in the slightly stunned eyes of the cultist, Yu Sheng once again raised the stick high.

This happened three times, and he was healed three times.

The healing glow gradually faded, and the angel cultist who had fainted opened his eyes again.

He saw the mysterious "torturer" sitting on the bed opposite, with the terrifying stick leaning against the side. The "torturer" had a calm and slightly smiling expression on his face as always, looking at this side quietly.

No questions were asked, and no answers were needed.

The angel believer panted violently. Although his body had healed, some "injury" more terrible than the flesh wound seemed to have penetrated the barrier called "reason" and deeply etched in his soul blessed by the "messenger". He stared at the smiling "torturer" and tried desperately to see through the other party's intentions.

The power of spiritual vision granted by the messenger allowed him to see through many things. In theory, it should be like this - he had used these eyes to see through the tricks of every interrogator before, the loopholes of every hypnosis, and even all the illusions and false memories created by the lackeys of the Secret Service in his dreams through nerve stimulation and brain injection. He relied on the power of this blessing to withstand all the interrogations so far.

However, at this moment, he stared at the figure sitting on the bed, but suddenly found that... the figure disappeared.

He only saw a dark hole, pure, empty, deep and boundless, like a death-like hole.

The torn death hole floated in his vision. A mocking smile seemed to emerge in the extreme nothingness. The hole grew bigger and bigger in his vision, getting closer and closer, and finally seemed to occupy the whole world.

Even the whispers from the "Lord" seemed to be squeezed and isolated by the hole.

The angel believer panted more violently. An emotion that he had almost forgotten seemed to be quietly revived in his heart. Questions emerged in his heart and quickly magnified in his consciousness, repeating over and over again:

What does he want? What does this hole want to know? What is his purpose?

The hole answered, answered the question he raised in his consciousness -

He doesn't want anything, and he doesn't need any response.

The hole floated up and approached this side.

The quietly resurrected emotion jumped violently - ah, it turned out to be fear.

The fear was not due to the torture on the flesh, but because of witnessing the ultimate nothingness and desirelessness - the angelic believers suddenly woke up and saw the hollow collapse again into the appearance of the torturer.

He subconsciously drew his neck back,

And within less than a second of shrinking his neck, a warning sign suddenly rose in the cultist's heart: Not good!

But it's too late.

A strange cold feeling suddenly hit him. This cold feeling was no stranger to him. When he tried to struggle before, the weird puppet bound his body with a cold silk thread - but this time, The cold feeling did not come from his limbs, but directly penetrated his consciousness and even his soul.

The cultist raised his head with difficulty, and in a trance he seemed to see "hair" crawling on the floor. Thin black threads spread like wriggling hair and penetrated into his body. The other ends of these "hairs" , is the short doll that looks like some kind of cursed doll - she raised her hands, a smile appeared in her scarlet eyes.

She opened her mouth and mouthed silently: "You're scared."

The next second, the whole world fell into darkness.

The bald cultist fell to the ground and suddenly lost consciousness, as if he suddenly fell into sleep.

Yu Sheng walked over and carefully poked the other party's thigh with the mace to confirm that the other party had no intention of waking up. Then he looked back at Irene who was carefully controlling the black silk thread: "Really give it to him like this 'Dragged in'?"

"That's right, you don't even know who is making the move." The little puppet showed a proud smile, but soon frowned, "But to be honest, it's not easy. I usually force people to It’s not so strenuous in the dream - this guy’s spirit is almost flawless and his determination is extremely tenacious. I don’t know why he suddenly panicked, and then I seized the opportunity.”

"After all, after fighting for so long, it's normal to panic, right?" Yu Sheng looked thoughtfully at the unconscious cultist, and muttered while casually placing the mace against the bed, "But I also It’s quite surprising that this guy is so resistant.”

Having said this, he shook his head and looked at Erin: "Forget it, let's not think about it so much for now. How is the situation? Has your dream erosion stabilized? Can you bring people in?"

Check out the correct version one by one!

"That's almost it." Erin carefully controlled the black threads that spread to the cultists and nodded to the student. "You lie down next to me and I'll send you in, but be careful after you get there. Don't do anything. If there is too much movement, he still doesn't know that he is dreaming. If the sense of violation is too strong, this guy will wake up. "

"Don't worry, I have my own sense of discretion."

As Yu Sheng said that, he lay down on the small bed in the cell and calmed his breathing.

"I'm ready."

Eileen, who was sitting on the edge of the cot, raised her other hand and gently touched Yu Sheng's forehead.

Irene's little hands were soft, with the warmth of a human body - but the next second, there was a sudden cold breath.

The black spider threads instantly submerged into the flesh and blood, dragging Yu Sheng's consciousness into chaos.

In the hazy and illusive chaos, Yu Sheng glimpsed a series of illusions. After many bizarre scenes, he saw an illusory "net" - dark silk threads intertwined with each other, outlining a spider web-like structure, and a person with The blurry shadows of scarlet eyes were crawling in the center of the spider web, carefully weaving dreams...

Yu Sheng's consciousness fell towards the center of the spider web. He saw the shadow with scarlet eyes raising his arm and grabbing two spider threads - one of which extended from Yu Sheng's perspective - the shadow Put the two spider silks together, then quickly tie them together and tie them with a bow.

"...There's no need to tie it up so carefully." Yu Sheng said vaguely.

"Tie a bow to look good." Erin's voice came from the vague shadow.

The next second, Yu Sheng opened his eyes again.

He found himself walking in a dilapidated warehouse, wearing unfamiliar clothes, and everything around him was covered with a vague veil.

The footsteps echoed in the warehouse, sounding hollow and somewhat distorted.

Some vague noises echoed in my ears, as if they were coming directly from my head.

After being stunned for a short time, Yu Sheng reacted instantly——

He is now hiding in a certain memory of that angel cultist.