The found Tuo is three and a half years old

Fyodor's little face collapsed at that moment—although the expressionless face looked the same as before, but after living with him for so long, the subtle changes from the corners of the eyes to the brows were enough to make me feel Conclusion: He is in a bad mood right now.

He curled his fingers and opened the gift box a crack, but he didn't take a look inside, but fixed his eyes on a certain clown who was poking his head.

"If the performer's taste is only funny and weird, the audience won't buy it." Fyodor's eyelashes trembled slightly, and the corners of his lips raised a little calmly: "Besides, with your It would be a bit wasteful to do such an unappealable little trick, wouldn’t it? Clown, Mr. Gogol.”

"Oh, I didn't expect that I could meet such a picky audience here—" The boy named Gogol took off the plush hat on his head, and the smile on his face became more weird under the backlight: "For performers, being picky and harsh is not a bad thing, if the audience can see through the true meaning of the performance."

He raised his hand in the air, and the next moment, like some strange trick, his hand holding the hat suddenly disappeared together with his wrist, and at the same time, the box in Fyodor’s hand also came out. slight noise.

Subconsciously, I raised my hand and rubbed my eyes, and when I looked in Gogol's direction again, I found that Mr. Clown's hand had returned to him perfectly.

Is it an illusion?Or... some special ability?

Fyodor lifted the lid of the box again, only to see the snow-white snow cap lying inside, as if it had never been touched.

"Then—well, let me figure out how to please my picky audience—"

Gogol at the door got out of nowhere a top hat to match his cloak, so he looked like a flamboyant magician about to perform on stage at the moment.

"You guy-"

It wasn't until this moment that Ivan, who had just been pushed aside by me, finally came back to his senses. He raised his hand to block Fyodor's body, and his face was full of guard for a while: "You guy's alien Could it be teleportation? So the disappearance in the town really..."

"Bu——It's a pity that your guess perfectly avoided the correct answer." Gogol glanced at Ivan: "First, my ability is not teleportation, and second, I and you Nor is there any connection to the disappearance in the small town in question."

"Then—then, it's time for a new round of questions! May I ask why I, who came here on the first day, knew about the disappearance in the town?"

"Dear lady over there, do I have the honor to invite you to answer?"

While speaking, Gogol suddenly turned his gaze to me, and at the same time, something seemed to land on my shoulder.

The senses and reactions of ghosts are quite sensitive, so I am sure that until that hand touches my body, there will be no one around me——

What appeared there was only one hand.

"I said you—" I quickly grabbed the hand that fell on my shoulder with my eyes and hands, and I used a little strength: "Don't scare people with such weird ways! Be seen by ordinary people You might feel like you’ve seen a ghost.”

"—But we ghosts don't do such boring things! Don't blame us ghosts casually!"

Gogol's eyebrows twitched slightly, but his overall expression did not change.I could feel the hand I was holding was trying to struggle, but even if Gogol could use his supernatural power to reach out to my side, the thing that was caught could not be taken back so easily.

"That's true, the unexpectedly enthusiastic lady." After a brief hesitation, Gogol suddenly walked towards me, and nonchalantly connected his broken arm and wrist together.

So the distance between me and him was pulled very close in an instant.

The boy's stature is slightly taller than mine, and the shadow that suddenly looms over him even made me feel a little oppressed in an instant——

At such a distance, it was enough for me to clearly feel the dangerous aura on his body, so I finally let go of the hand that was clamping his wrist.

But Gogol didn't intend to back away, but pushed forward instead: "Is this the unique shyness of the orientals in the legend? The performance has just begun, why does the lovely lady back away?"

"You haven't answered my question—"

"If you can't read the rejection in her behavior..." The familiar voice suddenly approached her ears inadvertently, followed by a little warmth from her wrist.

I turned my head, but I saw Fyodor who came over at some point and was holding my wrist, staring at Gogol solemnly: "I'm afraid I'm really going to laugh because of your stupidity."

"I'm really sorry." Gogol met Fyodor's sight without fear: "But this lovely lady is the most watched existence in this room after all, if you can't attract her attention, As a performer, you can’t help but feel overshadowed.”

"That's the performer's own problem, isn't it?" Fyodor lowered his eyes.

"Speaking of which, the question just now—"

When he raised his eyes, his tone seemed a little serious.

"Being able to find this place proves that you have already guessed that I am the one who spread the news about the disappearance in this town in an inconspicuous corner of the Internet world."

"Although the clues left point to the ever-expanding 'Necromancer Society'." The smile on Gogol's face suddenly seemed to freeze, and the bright golden pupils that were exposed showed full enthusiasm in an instant. Sharp: "But no one in the Necromancer Society has the ability to send so much news to me quietly and accurately."

"Even someone who can do this kind of trick can understand the essence of my performance-"

"So you came to the door so unprepared?" Fyodor narrowed his eyes slightly: "Even if you will be used as a scapegoat in that case."

"Well, what's going on—" Gogol dragged out his tone, with some meaning in his tone.

"Then I can probably understand your performance. Although I haven't really enjoyed it yet, I think your performance should be exactly what I want to see—"

Fyodor raised the corners of his lips slightly.

"free."