Let the whole universe drop SAN together

While talking, a stuffed puppy ran past them bouncingly, wagging its tail as it ran, flinched as it passed Shirley, and seemed to recognize her as its owner right away, and immediately leaned over to stick out its tongue Lie on one side.

However, Shirley noticed that it was only panting. In fact, when it was sticking out its tongue and flapping its nose, there was no sound of air flow.

She glanced at the dog lying at her feet, looked away indifferently, and asked Igor calmly, "Are you real?"

Igor actually couldn't figure out what this woman was thinking.

Once he thought he understood her, but later he realized that what everyone saw was only one side of her.

Shirley's contact in the Red Line Corps, Margarita, said that Shirley didn't use her abilities well.If she knew all the facts, she might change her mind and think that Joyce used his means to manipulate others, including herself, all the time.

"If you think I'm real, then I am." Igor's expression was also very peaceful. At this moment, the sound of the basement had been isolated. They stood in the hall of Joyce's old house, except for those who were running around. Apart from the specimens, all the statues on the pedestals and the portraits of Wendy hanging on both sides stared straight at them, even those works that were not facing outwards, their still eyes turned around one after another, which made the silent The space looked very strange.

A sculpture of a girl maintaining a ballet dance is standing behind Shirley, and she can almost hear the rolling sound of the white plaster statue's eyeballs.The cold fingertips stretched out by the other party were less than fifteen centimeters away from her shoulder.

"..." Shirley didn't speak for a while, and there was no panic expression on her fair face.

On the contrary, all emotions seemed to be drained from her.

"Are you here to avenge me?" She thought for a while, gave up the question of whether Igor was real, changed the subject and asked bluntly, "For yourself or Wendy? I've heard a little about Langman What happened to Griffin, I also met him."

She tidied up the gray-blue dress she was wearing today, it was still a retro British style, and the wide skirt hung down to the toes of her brown boots.This kind of attire is not suitable for escaping, and this Alpha does not seem to intend to escape.

"Some people say that he just couldn't suppress and exposed his true nature, but I know that's not the case." Shirley smiled palely, even without emotion, "He's crazy, it's obvious, I'm familiar with that feeling. Longman has done a lot of things that violate social morality, and he often mocks me for not having a business sense, because it is difficult for me to seize any opportunity that flies by like him, and grab benefits by any means.”

Igor thought for a while: "I don't think this has anything to do with our topic today."

"I'm not talking about good and evil...basic issues." Shirley said to herself, "I'm not good at one hit like Longman, and I can't have his rare keen talent. So I went through It took a long time to learn to cast a long line to catch big fish... just like a spider making a web, it doesn't care whether there is prey or not, and when the prey hits. I just spread the net and wait patiently."

"You or Wendy, I'm not approaching you for an active purpose."

She said.

"You just happen to fall into this net."

Igor didn't look angry: "I heard that the Red Line Corps contacted you as their downline, and they ordered you to do this."

Shirley showed a surprised expression for the first time.

"You know the Red Thread Legion? It shouldn't... No, they exposed themselves. Some time ago, the internal forum of the Holy See was hacked. Is that your person?"

Igor was noncommittal.

Shirley thought for a while: "Yes, this is their order."

"why?"

"Don't you already know? You and your sister have special physiques, especially Wendy. She is a genius who is one in a million. They feel that letting her live outside is to bury this talent."

Without waiting for Igor to speak, Shirley continued, "I knew that you would find out about this sooner or later since you disappeared, but I didn't expect it to be so soon. The people behind you or the influence are very great, they are almost He is fighting against the entire Federation with his own strength."

"Longman Griffin, you should have met him, but you didn't kill him."

"But is this the end? No." Shirley said while thinking, "He has made a lot of efforts to arrange your crime. He can almost be regarded as one of your number one enemies. If I were you, I would never Let him go so easily. But why did he survive?" She carefully observed Igor's expression, "Because the decision is not in your hands, and the people behind you want to keep him alive. It is more beneficial for him to be a lunatic of the card as the owner of the Griffin family than this power update iteration."

Igor was almost amused by her 'speculation'.

Would Azathoth still remember such a person?

He thought of the god's tired expression when facing strangers, with 'Let him go, I don't want to understand or fight' written all over his face, if it wasn't for trouble coming to him every time...or for Igor.

Of course, the trouble was all because of Igor.

His smile was fleeting, and he was a little more apologetic, but he didn't show it in front of Shirley.

Shirley was still slowly expressing her speculation: "You don't get much attention from that existence who doesn't know if it's human?"

Igor didn't know how to explain to a person who had never been in contact with Azathoth, a relatively...salty god, and his different three views from others.

Then he was tainted with the salty fish smell of a god, and he simply gave up his defense.

"Whatever you think, where is Wendy now?"

Shirley said without hesitation: "In the basement of this old house."

"She wasn't having a great time, but it wasn't too bad either."

This is something Igor never thought of... If he had known that Wendy was in this room, he would never have wasted time talking so much with Viscount Joyce.Thinking of this, Igor couldn't bear it anymore, and he raised his feet and was about to walk towards the basement.

The portraits of Wendy hanging on the wall looked at him with burning eyes, as if expecting.

"Wait!" Shirley called after him.

The plaster hand of the girl statue behind her held Shirley's neck silently.

Igor looked back at her: "What else?"

Shirley stood where she was, and that pale hand seemed to hang lightly around her neck, like an overly curious collar.

She lowered her head, and the pupils of the puppy lying on her feet seemed to dilate a little, and she watched this scene excitedly by sticking out her tongue and simulating breathing.

"I killed everyone here." She smiled, clasped her hands in front of her body, her demeanor was cold and elegant, like a young lady walking to a ball, "Sorry, it's all creatures." She said, Shirley glanced at the dog under her feet apologetically, "At first, my father thought that I was too fond of a mere dog and didn't have the heart of the owner, so he ordered me to kill it."

"I felt sorry at first and cried a few times about it."

"But just like what people said about me... I am not a person who has the courage and ability to resist fate," she said to Igor, and she seemed to be talking to herself, "at this time It seems unnecessary to push my sins to fate, or I am not a good person. So after a long time, I began to feel that this kind of life is not bad—I mean the feeling of sitting on a spider web and hunting.”

The smile on Viscount Joyce's face did not change, and the hand on her neck tightened a little bit.

The air gradually moved away, and Xue Li felt that her lungs were struggling to squeeze the last bit of oxygen she needed to survive, and pitch-black snowflakes slowly appeared in front of her eyes.

"Sorry, Igor, I just wanted to tell you what I said to you." She struggled to spit out the last few words from her throat, "As a friend, I feel extremely sympathetic to Wendy and what happened to you."

"But as Shirley Joyce herself...ahem..."

Her left hand ripped off the white lace glove on her right hand.

Igor's pupils shrank.

The manipulator that had just undergone maintenance did not tremble even the slightest bit because the owner was in a desperate situation.The middle finger above it turned over 180 degrees precisely, and pressed hard on the center of the back of the hand.

There's a little switch in there.

"boom--"

In the next second, the violent fireworks caused by the explosion engulfed the statue behind Shirley Joyce and swept her in.

"...being manipulated, that's how I live."

Her last words rolled out from the bottom of her tongue, and the boiling fire instantly illuminated her field of vision. Amid the unbearable burning pain all over her body, Shirley forcefully opened her blue eyes—these eyes were almost the only ones in the fire. Represents something cool.

She saw those dark black vines coming out of nowhere, coming out from the roof of the room, sticking out from behind the statues, coming out from the mouths of the portraits, coiling like snakes on the carved handrails taxi out.

They came to the gray-haired young man along the raging fire ground, and gently wrapped him around, as if forming a delicate and gentle cocoon.Even the blazing flames couldn't stain these tentacles with an iota of warm color. They still looked so cold, sticky and terrifying, full of madness that made people lose their minds.

But Shirley knew that was not the case.

She knew that she was a lunatic, and she naturally understood that there was an irrefutable rationality in the actions of those tentacles—they were protecting.

How incredible.

They are protecting.

Shirley fell to the charred carpet in pain.

Her only free mechanical arm lifted her up and turned her over, facing the soaring ceiling.

Ahead, at a height of several meters, a portrait of Wendy Sullivan, half the size of a human being, was pasted on the wall. The drawing paper was inevitably burned by flames, and the withered yellow edges were about to be swallowed up. Exhausted.

The gray-haired, red-eyed, fair-skinned girl looked down at her. The person in the portrait maintained the posture of raising her hand to stroke the hairpin on her forehead while painting, with a shy smile on her face.

But Shirley knew that Wendy was using her ability to look at her through the portrait, so there was no smile in those red eyes.

They stared at each other in the bright firelight, and neither of them spoke.

The pain was getting deeper and deeper, and she gradually couldn't feel her own body. Shirley lay unconscious in the flames, feeling that she was covered with angel feathers.And Wendy was still looking at her from a distance, and there seemed to be a flash of water in those red eyes that were exactly the same as Igor's.

Shirley Joyce didn't even have the strength to open her eyes.

She allowed her consciousness to be immersed in the darkness of ignorance, recalling that crystal clear tear-like thing, and finally classified them as an impossible illusion.