Bizarre Detective Agency

   Chapter 1227 One hundred and sixty-five. Bizarre Syndrome (5)

   The terrifying discovery made me desperate to escape the longhouse that once reassured me.

   I did exactly that. I don't know if they went out temporarily or hid during the day, which gave me a chance to escape. Remaining sanity let me bring the fire with me before I left. I turned on the stove, took out the burning coal, and threw it into the empty oil lamp. I added two new pieces of coal to the lamp, and shone back into the lampshade. Before I could take away the water and the still in the bowl, I clumsily and laboriously climbed up the window sill. I am afraid that I will encounter these monsters slowly.

  The once dangerous streets now represent light and safety, freedom, while the longhouses become dangerous, terrifying, and devoured. Luckily, no nightmarish claws pulled me back into the dark as I scrambled over slowly and awkwardly, no grotesque aliens lurking on the eaves and hoisting me up, I managed to step on the slippery streets, and I didn't even fall over by accident. oil lamp fire--

   This smoothness struck me as unbelievable, standing on the street looking back at the eerie windows and walls, the honeycomb-like dense holes in the walls, floors, and ceilings that I could and couldn't see.

   The sight that would drive the hyperphobia insane confirmed my guess: just last night, just outside, these terrifying monsters were watching me as I was sleeping.

   I got goose bumps on my skin, nothing to do with the cold, just out of fear.

   I was walking very fast, and my unhealed body started to ache again, but I didn’t want to slow down at all, even if I broke a leg. Finally, I got out of Sailors Quarter, and I was confused about where to go next, so I walked towards the port and thought.

  The advantage of the seaside is that there will be no shortage of water, but it may be that the continuous rain in the rainy season will not lack water, but the seaside has another advantage, food. I don't know what the state of the world is now, it's terrible, there's not a single living person in all of Belfast...I think of the church bells I heard two evenings ago, maybe there are still people alive there? Or is there a bunch of monsters like the one staring at me last night? Are the monsters that left traces in the longhouse the aborigines there, or did they follow my traces to the longhouse? Thinking of this, I slowed my pace and looked behind me, and the muddy wet footprints could be seen carefully, and my marks from yesterday must have been more obvious than this, and the first night in the longhouse was fine, maybe they were from the clinic. I'm back...

   Until then, I suddenly remembered that because of fear, I left the silver ring in the longhouse.

  I hesitated. The ring may have been very important to me in the past, but shadows and fears mingle to form a new nightmare.

   They are not interested in rings, I can come back to get them in the future when they leave. I so comforted myself to follow my inner fears and stay away from the longhouse.

   A damp and icy breeze blows, and another rain is brewing. The unhealed body will definitely get sick in the rain again, and I have to find a new shelter before the rain falls.

   The body moved ahead of my mind - continuing down the **** towards the port.

  The only thing I can do is to hide from the mud on the road, not to be the prey that hunters follow along their footprints, and to look after the tinder of the oil lamp.

  Wowla-wowla-

   The distant waves beat on the brown sand beach, and the fishy smell was pushed ashore by the sea breeze.

   I covered my stomach at this moment, it was terrible, my stomach twitched because I smelled the sea breeze.

   Most of the buildings on the coastal streets are taverns or hotels, no matter which one has wine bottles and the original liquid in the bottles.

  I am not an alcoholic person, but when people are in despair and pain, they always need something to ease their emotions.

   Especially for a middle-aged man who has lost a lot of his past.

  When it was raining lightly, I walked into a sturdy brick-and-mortar tavern with a "coal lamp" that was much darker than oil lamps. Disappointingly, there are traces of being looted, tables and chairs are crooked, messy footprints and broken glass bottles are everywhere, and I realize that I may not be able to find an opportunity to drink to relieve my worries.

After walking around the hall on the first floor and the kitchen at the back, I came to the second floor again. The second floor, which was divided into a dozen guest rooms, seemed depressing and uneasy, and I was even more disturbed by the fact that every room whose door was broken open The windows were not sealed.

But to my surprise, I found a ladder to the attic upstairs. The sloping roof structure and stone walls of the spacious attic bring a sense of security far better than that of a wooden house. The small windows that can overlook half of Belfast and the vast sea are also available. Don't feel depressed.

   And the attic wasn't visibly damaged - it was just a vacant attic with a bed and fireplace compared to the downstairs.

  I first put my head into the fireplace to see if the chimney was ventilated, then turned on the hot "coal lamp" and poured it into the clean fireplace, and put the wet wood in the basket next to it to dry.

   Fuel will never run out, every wooden chair piled up in the living room downstairs can burn for half a day, just needs to be dried first.

   I piled the damp, moldy quilt on the bed to surround the fireplace, and I went back downstairs for a while to find everything I could use. I was pleasantly surprised to find the pantry hidden behind a wall flap in the kitchen, as it was only the size of a cabinet and was left by the survivors in the front.

   I found bacon, dried fish, a small bag of wheat, and a salt shaker in it. I ditched the spoiled bacon and dried fish, and brought back the sack of wheat and salt cans to the attic. Then continue to carry wet wood a few times back and forth between the kitchen and attic, bringing back pots and pans by the way.

   Fireplaces burn brighter and warmer rooms than longhouse stoves. I looked at the flames, as if looking at hope, and then I separated the piled up bedding sheets, cut off the dirty and moldy places, and threw them into the fireplace and set them on fire.

   I dreamed of sleeping on a dry and soft bed tonight. I poured out the wheat kernels in front of the campfire, picked out the broken ones and threw them into the fireplace, and put the rest by the fireplace to dry the moisture.

   Gradually heavy rain clouded the window, I left a corner of the moldy sheet, and wiped the dirt on the glass carefully after wetting it. Although the water marks on the right were blurred quickly because of the rain, it has become transparent.

Because the fireplace has not been used for a long time, there is some choking smoke in the attic. At first I ignored it and tried to use the smoke to dry the attic. I paid attention to placing it on the grain of wheat on the plate on the fire until the throat became uncomfortable. I just opened the window to let the rain sound and the sea breeze carry the smoke away.

  I turned my head back while building the windows with wooden sticks, and the attic with the burning fireplace even had a homely warmth.

   But still have to find a way to get food. Once I solved the food problem, I was able to look for clues as to why I lost my memory and why the world became the way it was.

   These almost overwhelmed me, but I gradually became more relaxed when the aroma of the wheat kernels came out.

   Reach out to flip the golden-roasted kernels.

   At least in front of me, I can be carefree for a while.

   (end of this chapter)