Apostle of Cthulhu

Si Wei took off his windbreaker and hung it on the floor-standing clothes rack in his room. After combing his hair, which was messy due to the strong wind during his escape, he left his room and prepared to climb the duplex stairs to the attic.

Fury, who was sitting on the first floor, was still smoking his cigarette, enjoying the silence tonight. It was hard for Si Wei to imagine what kind of preferences he could have in such an environment, so he also had a kind of admiration for this lonely old man.

At the end of the duplex staircase is a door with some peeling paint. The milky white paint is broken, revealing the original color of the wood. It can be seen that it has been weathered.

Si Wei flexed his fingers, gently knocked on the door with the back and knuckles of his hands, and asked, "Hello, may I interrupt you?"

There was no response from the room. Si Wei hesitated for a moment, then thought of a better reason, and said, "When I stayed here last night, I heard the music you played. I thought it was very wonderful. Excuse me." Can I listen to your music again?"

This time, there was a sound in the room, which seemed to be the sound of something heavy falling to the ground. Si Wei waited quietly behind the door until the door was gently opened a crack.

"Hello, sir." Even though the other party couldn't see him, Si Wei still bowed and saluted, "Nice to meet you. My name is Si Wei, and I am an academic professor. I heard your performance last night and I am very touched by you. interest."

Through the gap, Si Wei could only see a little bit of faint candlelight swaying in it, and even the eyes of the attic residents couldn't see it.

Because the other party was mute, Si Wei was not prepared to receive a verbal response, so he continued: "Can you play another song? I think your music is very beautiful."

Little did they know, these words were like a slender silver needle pricking the heart of the attic resident. He slammed the door shut, and the whole hotel seemed to tremble under his force, letting out a wail of pain.

"Don't waste your efforts. He hates people praising his music." Fury also heard the movement upstairs and gave his warm reminder as an afterthought.

If possible, could you say this earlier?

At this point, Si Wei could only lament and left his last words behind the door, "I'm sorry, sir. If my words have irritated you, then it's my fault. I didn't mean to do it. Please forgive."

After he finished saying this, a note came out from the crack under the door and was handed to Si Wei.

Si Wei picked it up and saw the words on it.

The words written on it are very simple and the meaning is very clear.

"roll".

The other party was obviously greatly stimulated, and Si Wei's apology was completely ineffective. He could only choose to give in and let the musician calm down for a while, and then ask again later or tomorrow.

"Young man, come down here for a moment. I have something to say to you." Fury downstairs suddenly said, "Ahem... I have to explain something to you. I don't want any conflicts between my tenants. "

Si Wei had no room to refuse, so he quickly went downstairs and came to Fury, "Is there anything I need to explain?"

"As you can see, that guy hates other people praising his music." Fury said while blowing smoke rings. "You try to avoid compliments when talking to him. Of course, slandering him is also unacceptable. , so if you can talk less about music, just try to talk as little as possible, understand?”

Si Wei nodded seriously.

"Also, he only plays when he wants to. He gets furious if anyone forces him to play. You have to be aware of that, too."

"Okay." Si Wei behaved like a primary school student who listened carefully to the teacher's lectures.

In fact, these two points were the most important things that Fury wanted to explain. The rest were just the habitual remarks of the elderly, but Si Wei still listened to everything out of politeness.

After saying good night to Fury, Si Wei returned to his room on the second floor. Today's sleepiness came later than last night, and the effect was not as strong. At least Si Wei still maintained his clear mind and ability to analyze.

Just as he was about to end his second night on Osins Street, a rustling sound came from behind the door, and a piece of paper with a yellowish color was stuffed through the gap under the door.

Si Wei had just gone to bed at this time. After seeing the page, he lifted the quilt again, came to the door of the room, and picked up the page.

The handwriting on it was very familiar to Si Wei. It was exactly the same as the handwriting on the page handed to him by the attic resident.

"My name is William Oleff, and I am an incompetent violinist. I don't want you to like my music last night, because it was terrible, and if you like it, you are also a terrible guy. But If what you like is not the music itself, but the pleasant notes in it, then I think I can play it for you tomorrow night."

The font at the beginning is exactly the same as the word "Go", but as you go to the back, it becomes more erratic and ferocious, as if the owner wrote the font in a painful and panic situation, with teeth and claws showing, and each one looks like a demon crawling out of hell.

Getting this kind of response was completely beyond Si Wei's expectation. In his mind, it was basically impossible for him to see the attic door opened again. But now that the other party gave a positive response, it was a good thing. It at least meant that Si Wei's clues had not been completely broken yet.

There was no movement behind the door, and Si Wei thought that the other party had returned to his attic. He did not choose to continue to disturb the other party. After folding the note and placing it on the spotless desk, he returned to bed again, ready to welcome the arrival of the next day.

——

The night on Osins Street is intoxicating.

The past scene seems to still stay in front of me, the colorful streets, the bustling festivals... Unfortunately, it is gone forever.

My name is Frey Rex, and I am considered a resident of Osins Street. I run a popular hotel here, and my life is pretty good, but unfortunately I have never married.

I thought this quiet and peaceful life would continue, but I still remember the day when everything ended.

The sea water passed over the coastal city and invaded the fragile Osins Street as if it was teleported by some force. We are like Atlantis, helplessly embraced by the sea, and then dragged into the bottomless abyss.

Everyone can hear a voice echoing in their minds, but we cannot distinguish that language. That language transcends the universe and does not belong to any species known to humans.

The meteor streaked across the sky, carrying the Balem slab to the world, bringing new knowledge to the world.

And we, like sacrifices, were dragged into hell as the price of exchanging knowledge.

But I did not die. I suspected that I was crazy, but I was not crazy.

No one will remember my existence, and no one will remember the former glory of Osins Street.

However, I still hope to accompany this street that has carried my years and spend the rest of my life together.

This is the truth I am looking for.