All Worlds Madhouse

(I'm sorry, the new plot took a while to compile, so I posted it a bit late. Also, it's the middle of the month, where are your tickets!)

Suddenly, John coughed several times.

He took out something like a sprayer commonly used by asthma patients from his pocket and sprayed it into his mouth.

Due to his physical condition, Jigsaw cannot exist outside the eternal coffin for too long. Fortunately, Shirley, Quinn, and even Hannibal in the hospital can give him some temporary suppression of physical collapse. Bad medicine, so with the help of this spray, Jigsaw was able to move around in the outside world for a while.

After a while, he looked at the clock on the wall of the bar. The time already pointed to five forty-five.

He stood up and slowly walked out of the bar door.

This bar is right on Cheers Avenue and not far from the bus station, which is why Jigsaw comes here to take shelter from the rain.

Soon, John arrived at the bus stop. The rain curtain above blocked the rain. He looked at his watch and saw that the time was about to reach 6 o'clock, less than a minute away. However, the entire street was sparsely populated. Looking along the straight road, there was not a single car.

"Is it late?" John said, looking down at the rain spreading to his feet.

But just as his thoughts reached this point, a bus slowly stopped in front of him.

John was slightly startled. He raised his head and saw that the bus was painted gray and black, which was not the same color as the invitation in his hand. Moreover, it also had the word "Dream" written on it in white fonts.

Okay, it seems that this bus is here to pick me up as mentioned in the invitation, but there was no one in the whole street just now. Where did this bus come from?

He was confused, but he didn't pay too much attention. Maybe it was because the rain was too heavy just now and he couldn't see clearly.

With this thought in mind, he boarded the bus

There is nothing special about the interior of the bus. Except for the fact that the color of the seats is still gray and black, and there is no one except the driver and myself, it is just like any other bus.

So, he walked back for a while and then sat down.

There was a sudden feeling of weightlessness.

John felt a little dizzy. He slowly opened his eyes, and then he was extremely shocked to find that what he saw in front of him was the lights of a huge city under the cover of night. These lights were all like fireflies, curled up at his feet. At the same time, he keeps moving away from himself.

"Am I flying?" This was John's first momentary thought.

And then, he realized that he was not flying, but standing on an elevator. Directly in front of him was a piece of transparent glass, allowing the scenery outside the window to come into view, and he was rising rapidly with the elevator. .

"Where is this? Why am I here?" This was his second thought.

Immediately, he turned his head and saw a closed elevator door behind him. Next to the door, there was a row of floor buttons. It was actually a row, which was a bit inaccurate, because there was only one button on the entire key board. There is a wine glass painted on that button.

"What is this?" John said to himself as he looked at the strangely designed buttons.

It was only then that John finally realized a problem that was more serious than all the above questions.

"Who am I?"

Well, he was John, but there was no other information in this man's mind other than that simple name. It wasn't until he saw the wrinkles on his hands and touched his face that he finally remembered that he seemed to be an old man over fifty years old.

With a "ding", the sound of the elevator brought John back to his thoughts.

The elevator door in front of him slowly opened, and immediately, a bar appeared in front of John.

John was confused and walked out of the elevator.

This is a bar with a retro decoration. There are no men and women twisting their waists and hips crazily on the dance floor, and there are no glamorously dressed women laughing and joking among the men. In fact, there are almost no people here, only gentle people. Music echoed between the deserted walls.

Directly in front of the elevator door was a bar with some chairs in front of it. Behind the bar was a wine rack with colorful bottles that John couldn't even name.

In front of the bar, there was a man wearing a shabby long military coat sitting. Although he was not very burly and not too tall, judging from the extremely short hair, this was undoubtedly a man.

Behind the bar, stood a man wearing a bartender's shirt. He looked very ordinary, or rather, a little too ordinary. That ordinary face made it almost impossible for John to tell his age, although his hair was It's black, but as long as it is dyed white, the other person will immediately change from a young man in his 20s to an old man about the same age as John. At this moment, he is wiping a wine glass with a handkerchief.

And these two people, plus myself, are all the people in this bar.

John was puzzled, walked to the bar, and walked down unexpectedly.

"What would you like to drink?" the bartender asked, his eyes narrowed together with a smile, forming a curved gap, and the pupils could not be seen clearly.

John did not answer his question, but asked: "Where is this?"

"Haha, I guess your next question must be 'Who am I?'" the bartender said with a smile.

John found this atmosphere very strange, but his mood did not fluctuate much, as if he had no fear of this strange anger.

"Yeah, who am I?" he asked following the bartender's words.

"A good question, but there will be several guests coming in a while, so I hope you can wait a moment. When you are all here, I will answer it for you one by one. This can save a lot of time. ." The bartender still maintained his smiling face and explained to John: "So, what would you like to drink?" He asked again.

John hesitated for a moment, then turned to look at the short-haired young man beside him. He noticed that this man's right hand was always wearing a black glove, and the strong smell of wine was wafting from the wine glass he was holding. As he could imagine, It was definitely a glass of extremely spicy liquor, but the young man drank it as if nothing had happened. He didn't seem to feel anything strange at all. At the same time, he didn't even look at himself, as if he didn't care about him at all.

"A cup of hot milk." John finally said what he wanted to drink.

The bartender was stunned for a moment. He seemed to have thought of something interesting.

"Do you need more sugar?" he asked.