Horror Game: Crazy Boss Slashing At The Beginning

This scene is exactly the same as what Fu Yan experienced just now.

The painter held the painting and looked at the hole that Fu Yan had torn out in the painting with a distressed expression.

Fu Yan stepped forward and snatched the painting from the painter's hand, "It's just you boy, painting this crap is tricking me, isn't it!"

After saying that, Fu Yan raised his hand and tore the painting to pieces.

The drawing paper with ink fluttered all over the room.

The painter stared at the shattered painting, feeling extremely angry.

He rushed up to beat Fu Yan, but Fu Yan kicked him to the ground.

Fu Yan looked at him condescendingly, with a small malicious arc on his mouth, "You really care about these paintings, don't you?"

Hearing the words, the painter felt a bad feeling in his heart, "You...what are you going to do..."

Fu Yan looked at the painter and showed a standard childish smile, "Hey hey..."

Fu Yan smiled, and picked up a painting beside him.

This painting depicts a little girl who was raped by a neighbor.

The neighbor who looked like a dog in the past dragged the girl into his home and tortured her body to pieces.

Just looking at the picture, one can feel the despair and resentment of the girl in the painting.

Fu Yan didn't even bother to take a second look.

He raised his hand and tore the painting to pieces.

The moment the drawing paper was torn, a desperate woman appeared in the carriage out of thin air.

She closed her eyes, scratched her body frantically, and let out a miserable scream, "Go away... don't touch me... ah ah..."

Fu Yan took off his coat and put it on the woman's head.

The dark environment made the woman quiet for a short while.

She wrapped her head in her coat, curled up and hid in a corner.

After Fu Yan tore up this one, he casually picked up another one.

This is a painting in which a father is brutally killed and eaten by a monster in order to save his child.

The hatred and sadness of that child can be felt across the screen.

Fu Yan tore it to pieces.

He sprinkled the torn pieces of paper all over the painter's face.

Then he raised his leg to tear off a second sheet.

At the same time, a young man about twenty years old also appeared in the carriage with tears streaming down his face.

Not long after, the carriage was flooded with shredded paper and players who appeared out of thin air.

When Fu Yan tore up all the paintings, a door engraved with "8" quietly appeared in front of the carriage.

The painter fell to the ground, holding the torn pieces of the painting in his arms, and stared at Fu Yan viciously, "You ruined the art, you will die!"

"That painting is your nightmare, the past you fear and dare not face!"

"I curse you, I curse you to be surrounded by the fear of the past forever, and everyone around me will die..."

Hearing this, Fu Yan was not angry, but laughed out loud, "Whether someone else dies well or not is none of my business."

"As for fear... I can go to hell with you! There is nothing in this world that I am afraid of."

After Fu Yan finished speaking, he stomped on the painter's hand and said, "It's you, do you really understand what art is?"

The painter clutched his severed hand in pain, sweat dripping from his forehead, "You... what do you mean..."

"Why would you trap other people in a painting and let them go through the most painful memories of their lives over and over again?"

After Fu Yan finished speaking, without waiting for the painter to answer, he replied in a self-contained manner: "It's not because your level is too bad, and your paintings have no soul."

"That's why you trap others in your paintings."

"The real art is not your paintings, but these fresh souls."

The painter shook his head and looked at Fu Yan with great resistance, "No...you're lying...these are all art...art created by me..."

Fu Yan: "..."

Time to show real technology.

"Come on, let me tell you what art is."

After Fu Yan finished speaking, he pulled out the painter's heart.

The painter's eyes widened in disbelief, he didn't even feel the pain in his heart.

Fu Yan took the painter's heart and slowly squeezed it to burst in front of the painter.

Blood sprayed the painter's face.

Fu Yan: "I use behavior to express my most sincere thoughts at the moment, and my behavior is art."

"Don't you understand? It's okay, you have plenty of time, think slowly..."

After saying that, Fu Yan opened the painter's mouth and stuffed the broken heart into the painter's mouth.

"Well, it's more artistic that way."

After Fu Yan created the art, he got up and walked to the next carriage.

At this time, the carriage was already full of people he released from the painting.

These people are different from those in the previous compartment.

The people in the previous carriage rushed to the next carriage impatiently.

But the people in this compartment were all... dumbfounded.

Except for a few people who opened the iron door and rushed to the next carriage, the rest of them stayed where they were, looking very confused.

Fu Yan glanced at them roughly, then lifted his foot and went to the next carriage.

A bright light flashed.

Fu Yan appeared in a closed carriage.

The carriage was decorated to look like a condolence hall.

In the center of the carriage, there is a transparent coffin for mourning.

The coffin was surrounded by stools.

Guests who came to express their condolences were sitting sparsely on the stools.

These people looked at the transparent coffin with sad eyes.

A pair of men and women with a large age gap stood around the coffin.

They were wearing matching rings.

Their expressions were very sad.

The woman lay in the man's arms, crying and trembling.

Around the coffin, there are several people who look like family members.

Some of them gathered together to chat.

Some squatted on the ground and burned paper.

Fu Yan looked at the guests, and then at the family members.

He could clearly see that they were two kinds of people.

These family members gave him the same feeling as guards, noble ladies, cornstars, and painters, which were annoying.

And those guests gave him the same feeling as the passengers in the previous carriage.

It's just that the passengers in this carriage seem to be extraordinarily devoted.

From far away, Fu Yan could see the sadness in their eyes.

At this time, the man in the couple saw Fu Yan.

He let go of his young wife, stepped over the paper-burning brazier, and strode to Fu Yan's side, "Sir, you are also here to see the little girl off for the last time, right?"

Fu Yan looked at the crowd crying into sad frogs, and also pursed his mouth as the Romans did, "Well, why not."