From Prisoner to Si Chen

"This is the secret history we are in."

At this time, Gillan heard the voice of the "director".

He turned his head and was surprised to find that the scene around him had changed at some point.

It was no longer the boundless flower garden of Mahab, the hometown of God.

It was a spacious and huge luxurious theater.

It was very dark around, and thousands of leather seats were empty. Only the "director" wearing a white astronaut uniform and a round helmet sat in the middle of the front row.

It seemed that the entire theater was open only to Him.

"I went back to the past and promoted Alice's death, which led to the development of all future generations."

The "director" said to himself.

The calm urn sound came from under the helmet and echoed in the theater again.

"My dear friend, this is the only solution you gave. Only in this way can we escape the fate of our endless fighting."

"Unfortunately, I failed."

"I was eventually targeted by the world's laws. After returning to the normal timeline, I was instantly targeted by the three major art departments. I can't wait for the day when you travel through time..."

"?!"

Jilan stood there, looking at the "director" sitting in the audience in front of him, not knowing why.

Thump!

Thump thump thump thump! !

At this time.

The silent theater suddenly sounded a dull sound.

Jilan turned his head suddenly and looked.

On the huge stage, twelve red lights suddenly lit up, and the scarlet illuminated the stage.

The huge red curtain slowly opened to both sides.

A spotlight shone in the center.

A man appeared.

The man was wearing a black suit, a small hat, and long black hair to his waist.

His face was hidden in the darkness and could not be seen clearly.

In his left hand, he held a parchment with a poem of praise, and in his right hand, he held a slender baton.

On his hat, there was a white dove.

"Du Wei, the 'white dove poet' of October."

The voice of the "director" came softly into Jilan's ears.

"Huh?" Jilan was startled.

The poet on the stage took a step forward and stood on the cylindrical steps.

He raised his hand.

The baton rose and stood upright.

Ding! !

Another light shone down.

A noble lady in a green evening gown with her hair tied up was sitting upright in a high-backed chair, with a cello between her legs.

She held the bow in her right hand, the neck of the violin in her left hand, and her slender fingers on the fingerboard.

"Cynthia, 'Mrs. Ya', the 'June Hour'."

The "director" revealed the identity of this lady again.

Jilan was shocked again, two Hours? !

Buzz--

The cello was pulled, making a sad whimper, and an extremely depressing atmosphere flowed in the theater.

The poet swung his baton again.

Ting! !

A beam of light fell again.

Two figures, a man and a woman, appeared on the other side of "Mrs. Ya". They each held a violin and played slowly.

The hoarse and melodious tune blended with the cello's whimper, interweaving together, as if the jury was echoing the judge's severe judgment.

Ding Ding Dong Dong...

Further ahead, a middle-aged man in a tuxedo, with his back to the audience, was sitting in front of a piano, his fingers dancing, pressing the keys, and making tinkling music like spring water.

A tall and thin lady in a bright red evening gown stood behind the poet, singing melodiously in a high pitch.

"April Apostles 'Painted World Girl' Avril, 'Triangle Jazz' Pablo, 'Mr. Qin' Gago, 'Nightingale' Belu..."

The voice of the "director" came again.

Gillian couldn't help but take a deep breath. Four more apostles!

The poet's mood became more and more excited. His left hand behind his back was raised, and his arm held the baton high.

Ding! !

The lights fell again.

Illuminating a new stage area.

Three men appeared in the light. One of them had his face covered by an origami bird, one wore a skeleton mask, and one had a black cloth covering his face.

The three of them sang together, with the bass in charge of the chorus, echoing the singing of the red-skirted "Nightingale".

"October Apostles 'Paper Bird' Ander, 'God of Deity' Yasirs, 'Spirit King' Loserxiu..."

The voice of the "director" was still flat.

The poet shook his head and was very intoxicated.

The right hand turned in a circle and pointed again.

Ding! !

The lights fell again.

This time, a dancing couple appeared. The lady wore a black skirt and veil, and the man wore a white shirt and a white hat.

The two danced gorgeously and mesmerizingly.

On the side of the piano stand, there was also a middle-aged man holding a brass pipe, blowing a high-pitched whistle.

"June Apostle 'Black Swan' Siegel, 'White Hat' Pantsi, 'Stonemason' Anthony..."

The "director" said again.

Gillan was numb.

He stared at the stage in a daze.

Two Sichen, ten apostles!

They played together to create this grand performance. And the audience -

was only the "director"!

And this was not over yet!

The poet suddenly touched his chest and bent over, pointing his baton downwards, straight to the ground.

All the music disappeared.

The spotlights converged in the middle.

It illuminated a lady in a black skirt.

The lady held white flowers in her hands, and her black veil covered her face, revealing only her red lips.

“Miss Elegy from April Sichen.”

The “director” sighed.

Jilan's pupils shrank sharply, all the three artistic staffs were present, and his apostles were also not absent!

At this time, I heard "Miss Elegy" say:

"Mr. Clark, it is an honor to perform for you."

"The silk string is the sword, and the drumbeat is the hammer. It directs the direction and kills wherever it goes."

"With my voice, please enter your grave!!!"

After saying that, she opened her red lips slightly and let out the most beautiful singing voice in the world.

As soon as the beautiful melody sounded, the music on the stage appeared.

The baton in the poet's hand draws a beautiful arc.

A grand performance has begun!

The "Director" sat at the front of the empty auditorium, his face blocked by a shiny black helmet.

Gillan, however, felt strong emotions.

“The greatest works in the world are hymns to human art.”

"Director" spoke in a hoarse voice, as if he was in great pain.

"Whether art can be great depends on the precipitation and test of time, and people's familiarity and appreciation. Only art that transcends time is the real art."

"Time is the most severe judge."

"After I die, I believe time will tell you the answer to what is true art..."

boom! ! !

On the stage, the lady sang.

Ji Lan only felt that his vision was distorted.

The fear in my heart reached its peak.

At this moment, he seemed to feel the same as the "director" and was besieged by the joint forces of the three artistic directors.

A sense of déjà vu arises spontaneously.

bite! ! !

Scarlet hints of light shine.

Gilan received the strongest early warning since time travel.

He had a premonition that the next second would happen.

Just the next second.

He will die without a burial place!

'gorgeous! quit! ! ’

Jilan shouted in his heart.

Buzz——

Suddenly everything went dark.

All sounds disappeared and fell into dead silence.

…

…

When Gillan regained consciousness.

He was slumped to the ground, sweating profusely and his brain was tingling.

"snort……"

Jilan groaned in pain and struggled to get up from the ground.

Look at the curtain on the wall again.

The movie seems to have ended.

This time, there is no list of behind-the-scenes personnel on the black screen, only a white message from "Director":

"My dear friend, when you see this real film, I must have fallen. From now on, in this secret history, you are the only one left..."

"Please be wary of art, and do not attract their attention before you are absolutely sure. You, like me, are time travellers, and you will inevitably be eliminated by them."

"If you have the chance, follow the method I told you and travel to other secret histories. Take a walk and take a look. You will definitely gain a lot."

"If you can, please apologize to the other you in 'Secret History A' on my behalf. I failed to fulfill my promise."

"Although I have never met you, I think we will become very good friends..."

"My story ends."

"Next, is your wonderful chapter."

"Miss Alice and I will embrace each other at the end of death and appreciate your art together, my dear friend."

Click.

The projector stopped.

The picture on the curtain disappears.

Jilan sat down on the ground, with cold sweat on his forehead, breathing heavily, and fell into a long silence.

A long while.

"It turns out that 'Director' Mr. Clark has already passed away..."

He murmured in a low voice.

Only now does Gillan understand why the "director's" last film was called "Curtain Call."

Because this is His record of His own death.

In the message, the "director" mentioned that he had a way to convey the "Secret History Journey", but Gillan didn't know about it.

"So, is that method included in "Curtain Call #1"?"

Gillan sighed.

He felt inexplicably depressed.

Maybe it's the death of the "director", maybe it's the exhaustion after knowing all the truths, or maybe it's the horrific performance jointly performed by the "Art Sansi Chen".

In short, Gilan was extremely melancholy.

'Fortunately, I did learn from this movie how to break through the restrictions of the world's laws...'

Gillan took a deep breath.

He rubbed his throbbing temples and got up from the ground.

Then, he took "Curtain Call # Part II" off the projector, thought about it, and put it directly into the "ether bubble".

'It seems that this film cannot be given to the "recording meeting". Whether it is the important secret history contained in it or the scenes about the "grand performance", it is definitely harmful to them. ’

Gillan thought.

Others are not "beautiful" and can quit at any time midway.

It can be said that in this world, anyone other than Gillan will definitely die once he watches "Curtain Call".

There was no chance of survival.

Because it records the death of the "director".

It is the "supreme performance" of the "Three Masters of Art" plus ten apostles.

Even if an ascended person watches "Curtain Call", it will probably be a disaster!

This is a death film.

'It seems that the "director" knows my specialness, which can be seen from the "Pilan" that he has, which is similar to "Bailan". ’

Ji Lan secretly thought.