After being dressed as a human, everyone regards me as a god

The pure black curtains hung down, the dark color covering the light from the window, not letting a ray of sunlight pass.

The creases of the curtain like the cloak of death rolled up the corners, and some small cracks climbed up the white walls next to each other. The cracks and lines spread wildly around, like spider legs in a premeditated hunt, extending to A nail was hammered into the center of the wall, and a portrait with a pure black frame was hung on the edge, as if the square was not squared, and the portrait was slightly oblique on the wall.

Most of the paintings on the wall are black paint, and the bright pure white paint collides with the colors. The background of the painting is in a dark room, and there is a mysterious man in black robe standing inside.

The person in the painting is wearing a white mask painted with silver lacquer, his true face cannot be seen clearly, he looks like a wizard, with a gloved right hand holding a pointed handle at the mouth of the tiger crutch.It can be seen that his shoulders are very broad, and his figure should be that of a man. He is wearing a dark robe that does not reveal an inch of skin, and even his neck is covered by soft black silk cotton. Huge curved beak.

The oil lamp holders on the wall were all broken, and the wax oil in the lamp slid down the wall. There was a lamp in the room that was like lightning jumping, flickering and dimming.In the dimly lit room, the walls and floor were pasted with pieces of dazzling cracked square stone bricks. On the bricks, there were many hospital beds that had collapsed, and the broken table legs and bed boards were being lowered from the ceiling. One side after another is divided by pure white curtains.

Aside from the oddly shaped machines that looked like they were still working, there was still a piece of cardboard that had been hammered open and filled with words on the floor tiles.As if it had been soaked in water and half of it was hammered to pieces, the writing on the cardboard was much blurred, and it was only vaguely recognizable. It seemed that the number 019 was written wildly in red letters.

The total internal space of this room is not too large, avoiding those curtains and panels, there is a black hospital bed in the middle, surrounded by many people.

The rectangular black bed was not wide, and it was matched with black sheets of the same color. At this time, there was a patient lying on the hospital bed. He was dressed in pure white clothes, and his hands and feet were bound by black ropes like a mummy.

The person on the bed was a young male, his face was pale, and his expression at this time was a little crazy.The bloodshot eyes seem to be talking about something, the cracked lips are noisy, screaming and trying to cry and laugh, and want to wave their limbs, struggling desperately on the bed like a madman, trying to escape .

Facing the head of the bed, there stood a doctor in a black robe. The cuffs of the doctor's black robe were covered with bandages. He was wearing a half black mask, protective lenses, and a long black cloak. Surrounding him, covering every inch of his body as tightly as possible, holding a golden wooden hammer in his gloved right hand, and holding a sharp steel weapon with a conical tip in his left hand.

'Woo...uuuuuuuuuuu! '

The patient was still trying to struggle, his eyes were clearly weeping, but the corners of his dry mouth were raised.

'Snapped! '

Several other doctors who also wore black robes surrounded them vigilantly. They held wooden boards or ropes in their hands, and mercilessly pressed and tied these things on the patient's body, stopping the patient's movement. To move, to stop his struggling.

"He doesn't believe in a pure, good and supreme great god..."

The doctor holding a wooden hammer and a sharp weapon suddenly spoke. His voice came out through the black mask, as cold and ruthless as a poisonous snake. It was not until he called the gods that he was slightly full of respect.

"He has been possessed by the evil devil and has lost the consciousness of self-thinking... He is guilty and sick. This is the punishment given to him by the gods, and this is also the test given by the gods. Fortunately, the benevolent god is still alive Grant me the power to heal this evil."

He raised his head slightly, his eyes were hidden under the transparent lenses, his eyes shifted from the patients on the bed, slowly, maintaining the same speed and time, and his eyes successively looked at the game participants standing behind the group of doctors.

'Woo!Woo! '

The patient was lying flat on the bed, with his chin raised, exposing his fragile and straight throat, nestling the back of his neck, and looking back hard.Until he saw that the doctor didn't look at him, he immediately uttered a cry with difficulty, and tried to straighten his knees to bump against the wooden boards that were pressing hard on him.

'Quiet! '

'Boom! '

Seeing that the patient began to struggle even harder, the doctor withdrew his gaze, raised his right arm and then lowered it, and precisely hit the patient's forehead heavily with the hammer.

His movements are proficient, as if he has beaten it many times, even his expression has not changed, and his voice repeats the words again indifferently as before: "He is guilty, yes, he is guilty, yes... Now we To banish, banish the devil that was hiding in his head."

Repeatedly muttering in low voices, as if hinting at himself.

'Ah! '

The forehead that had been struck hard by the wooden hammer immediately began to turn red, but the crumpled rags blocked his mouth. The patient felt angry because of the pain, stopped his absurd smile, and was unable to vent his anger with words, so The whimpering and crying grew more irritable.

As if they knew that the patient would respond, when the gavel fell, the black-robed doctors at the side immediately pressed harder.

One of them pressed the most fiercely and roughly, he snorted coldly, and echoed the words: "It must be, Bishop Gravell, you are really a great physician."

While saying words of approval, he pressed harder with his hands, his eyes covered by the glasses showed no trace of humanity, and he pretended to sing in an ugly voice, flattering him: "Look, he is also very happy." , it must be because he heard the holy voice, oh... what a beautiful and holy voice."

"You're quite right, Brother Kluve."

The doctor holding the wooden hammer nodded in satisfaction, and then, as if he suddenly thought of something, he suddenly turned around without warning, and looked at the doctor from joy to indifference through the transparent lens on the bridge of his nose. The group of players standing behind him and the other black-robed doctors asked, "What do you think?"

The sudden question brought a moment of silence. More than a dozen players who had entered the dark game world for the first time or had entered the dark game world many times looked at each other.

Standing behind the doctor and in front of the player is a woman with a small sword hanging from her waist.She glanced sideways at the patient on the black hospital bed, then at the wooden hammer in the black robe doctor's hand, carefully clenched her sweaty palm, nodded slowly and hesitantly, imitating what she just heard Said, "Yes, Bishop Gravell, you are right, I think he is indeed ill."

The black-and-white room is cold and depressing, making people even lower their voices.

Except for the group of NPCs like Grevel, all the players have just entered the game. They didn't receive any prompts, and they saw this weird scene when they opened their eyes. No one knew the winning rules of this game. Everything has to be explored by oneself first.

Death in the game means death in real life. Everyone is cautious and rational. When the first daring person speaks, and the punishment has not yet been triggered, the people behind are also cautiously echoing.

"Yes, he is sick."

"Then why else would he be tied to that bed."

"He is very ill."

"He must have been very guilty."

A bit of indifference faded from the eyes behind the glasses. Gravell raised the hammer in his right hand while clenching the awl in his left hand, pursing his thin lips, and praised everyone in a dull voice through the mask: " You are all great."

Then he turned his head, looked at the first female player who spoke, and asked in a low voice: "Especially you...by the way, what's your name?"

"Malinka!"

The female player put her right hand on her left chest with a slightly happy expression, "Bishop Grevel, my name is Molinka."

"Okay, I know."

Grevel nodded slightly, then turned around, and looked at the group of players who echoed louder one by one.

As for why the patient was tied to the bed, what crime he had committed, and what illness he had, no one knew.Not to mention that no one has noticed that every time someone agrees with what the bishop said, the corners of his mouth will rise even more and his eyes will be filled with tears for the patient lying on that bed.

"He is possessed by the devil, he is guilty... It seems that everyone feels so."

When Dominic finished receiving the new body and memory, endured the pain of soul travel, and opened his eyes a little sleepily, the eyes of the black-robed doctor happened to fall on him.

"What about you?"

The sight through the lens is still cold, and the voice through the mask is equally cold.

Before Dominic could react, following his words, he subconsciously turned his head to look at the struggling patient on the bed, his dark and moist eyes were full of doubts.Because the soul has not yet fully fused, he seemed very tired. With a pale complexion, he stretched out his hand and rubbed his forehead. He still tried his best to straighten his waist, standing gracefully on the cracked stone brick, facing the eyes of everyone, and slowly walked out. He replied, "I don't know."

It has become a habit to sing and pray when serving the gods all the year round. This is the memory and glory imprinted in the soul, making every opening of Dominique's mouth like a hymn of the gods and an angel's aria, which makes people feel like being washed by holy water. sense of sanctity.

The only different answer appeared in the successive voices of approval, which made the mouth of the patient on the bed pause. The black-robed bishop stopped talking and looked at Dominic quietly. After a few seconds, he suddenly turned around without saying a word.

Gravell was still standing at the head of the bed, with a wooden hammer in his left hand and an awl in his right.He looked down at the patient who had stopped struggling on the bed, opened his lips and teeth hidden behind the mask, and chanted as if in a prayer ceremony: "He is guilty, he is sick, he betrayed the gods, and his soul was taken over by the devil... ..."

"Yes, he is sinful, ungodly, possessed by the devil."

The rest of the doctors in black robes surrounding the bed lowered their eyes at the same time, increased the strength of their hands again, and used all their strength to press the wooden board on the patient's body.

The skin and flesh were squeezed parallel, the person strangled by the rope was short of breath, the patient in the white robe turned his head forcefully, and looked at the pale but handsome Dominic with eyes full of tears.

The first player who made a sound thought he had passed the level by luck, and slowly breathed a sigh of relief. The eyes of the others drifted, and some of them also fell on Dominic. However, some people's eyes were full of malice, and some people's eyes were full of malice. Like sympathy but hidden gloat.

"Now, we're going to start treating him."

Grevel moved a little closer to the hospital bed, his voice was not dull before, and became a little more relaxed.

Everyone's eyes turned to Gravel's movements in silence.

The waist of the black-robed doctor was slightly bent downwards, and his hands were slightly raised and lowered at the same time. Then he put the tip of the awl in his left hand close to the patient's forehead, and at the same time pressed the wooden hammer in his right hand against the end of the awl, and paused word by word. Gradually increased his voice: "First...we're going to crack open his skull."

The author has something to say:

This book is too big, and I have been afraid to open it. I wanted to open another one to buffer it, but I couldn't help but open this one. I hope you will like it.