I Became a God in a Horror Game

From now on, this strange guest, or the "god" he thought would come every night.

On the second night, the guest still brought the same set of clothes and books, but the difference was that this time he also wore a pair of contact lenses, or beauty contact lenses?

He hesitated to open the contact lens box that the guest handed him with a smile—a pair of silver-blue contact lenses was inside.

"I was in a hurry last night, so I forgot to bring this." The guest asked politely, "I haven't used this before. Buy the safest pair. Would you mind wearing it?"

Of course he didn't mind.

After changing into the worn-out orphanage clothes behind the curtain, and the pair of silver-blue contact lenses, he sat there and flipped through the book. Under the gaze of the guest, his scalp was covered with hair for a moment. hemp.

——The eyes are different from last night, after he put on this contact lens.

The way the guest looked at him became very focused, or... miss him, as if he had been in this hazy silence countless times, guarding such a statue that could not speak, would not look at him, would only The silver-blue glasses sculpture of flipping books and reading, so quietly spent thousands of millions of years.

Seemingly aware of his tenseness, the guest said with a chuckle, "Does my gaze make you uncomfortable?"

After hesitating for a while, he shook his head honestly: "No."

——Although this guest looked at him intently, his eyes were different from those of those guests.

There was no desire in the eyes he looked at him, just pure and calm watching - like watching a character in a TV show, or an NPC in a game.

The guests looked at him and didn't take him as a human being.

But he always felt that in the eyes of this guest, he was much more like a person than in the eyes of other guests.

After the two of them got along silently for a while in this silence, he said tentatively: "Do you... like this child I play?"

The guest pondered for a while, he seemed to be thinking about his question, and then chuckled lightly: "I don't really understand what you guys say about liking."

"I'm just used to His company, even though He never responded to me."

"Is this child your heir?" he replied subconsciously, "then if he wants to leave, you can absolutely not let him go."

——Every man in the inner circle treats their children like this. They can arrange their children whatever they want.

Business cards, successors, jobs - everything will be arranged.

Like him, as long as these children were born in the families of men in the inner circle, they would never be able to leave the control of the inner circle and the Holy See. The trajectory of their life has been clearly planned from the moment of birth, and there is no deviation possible.

So he was a little confused in the face of this situation - a man who was powerful enough to clear the men from the inner circle was actually hurting himself because his child was about to leave him.

This is so bizarre.

"When He has no soul and is just a sculpture, I can easily keep Him by my side." The guest replied with a chuckle, "But not after He has a soul."

"He will endlessly resist my bondage and retention of him for the things he yearns for, for the people he wants to protect, and for the moment he gave birth to his soul."

The guest looked at him with nostalgia and some kind of deep emotion that he couldn't understand: "He understands that he likes and has a soul."

"He is no longer my kind, and we can no longer sit under the stars and get along so quietly."

"You can take me to the sea." He said awkwardly, "You should be like a god, right? Can't you keep this child?"

The guest replied with a smile: "Even if it is a god, it cannot leave a person with a soul."

He straightened his back slowly, and he repeated the guest's words in confusion and with some kind of uncontrollable yearning: "A person with a soul?"

Her words rang in her ears again: [Leave here, leave the city in the sky. 】

【There is a wider stage waiting for you. 】

"Thank you for your company tonight." The guest got up, he put on his cloak and thanked him with a smile, "Do you have anything you want?"

His mind was in a mess, he said a lot at random, and all the guests were accepted.

"You, can you take me out of this island tonight?" The last request, he said cautiously, "Just go to the sea like last night."

"Going to the sea..." The guest laughed, "If it's just an outlying island, do you like the sky?"

He was stunned.

The guest extended his leather-gloved hand to him and smiled warmly: "I'll take you to see the universe, where I was born, go?"

His eyes lit up, and he put his hand on it without hesitation: "Go!"

That night, when the guests sent him back to the island, his mind was blank, and the vast silver and blue stars were still circulating. He jumped up, slammed into the air frantically, then fell backwards, rolled back and forth in the duvet, hugged the pillow, and kicked his legs.

Too beautiful.

The world is so big.

As she said, it's so vast.

He slowly and cherishly took out the photo from the clothes in his heart, and very quickly covered the dog man on the top of the photo, only looking at the sunny her, and then slowly stuck her treasure to his heart , and then slowly curled up into a ball, huddled in the quilt, and fell asleep with a smile on his face.

The starry sky outside the island is brilliant.

During that time, the guests came almost every night, he took him to see the most borderline scenery, and he responded to all his requests.

Sitting on the ocean and watching the merman swim by, watching those ancient animals that congealed under the ice of Antarctica, and huddling on the train with people coming and going.

"That passenger's mirror is going to explode one day," guests would sometimes tell him jokingly.

He would ask suspiciously, "Why?"

Guests would laugh and say, "I designed it to explode because I thought it was funny."

In short, it's the kind of words he doesn't understand at all, but it doesn't prevent him from having a good time.

No one ever showed him how to play, and he seemed to have the friend she said.

But he knew that the guest would leave one day, but he didn't know why, just like escaping, he was unwilling to face the fact that the guest was leaving.

But one day, the guest mentioned it himself, he looked at him who was flipping the book, and suddenly said, "I won't be here tomorrow night."

"Where do you want to go tonight?"

The guest spoke in such a light-hearted tone as to say goodbye to an after-dinner TV show, as if he had no idea how cruel it was to him.

His hand trembled as he flipped through the book, raised his head in disbelief, and then quickly calmed down, he asked, "Is that only tomorrow?"

"No." The guest replied with a smile, "I won't come again in the future."

He sat there for a long time, turned his face away, controlled his emotions, made himself look as cold as possible, and then suddenly jumped up from the spot as if he had thought of something, and ran hastily said: "Wait. Let me go!"

"Then wait for me first!"

His tears still fell, and while wiping away his tears, he dug out the gauze from a cupboard he hid under the duvet bed—the gauze from which he danced in "Salome."

[There will be a lot of people who really watch dance in this world who appreciate your beauty - they exist, I have seen them. 】

He took a deep breath, put on this gauze, and walked out with almost trembling shoulders.

"Can I do a dance for you?" he asked in a trembling voice.

The guest said softly, "Yes."

Under the candlelight, beside the flannel, he had danced this dance countless times. Those people stared at him with the eyes he hated and hated the most through the candlelight and the flannel -- as if they had watched him once. She is the same.

But not this time, not this time from start to finish.

The guest sat there quietly, without jumping halfway up, stroking his feet on the ground, or implicitly uttering some flirtatious sentence that he now understood but disgusted.

After he finished dancing, he turned in a circle, with purple eyes full of tears, his hands tightly clutching the skirt, and asked the guest very lightly, "Does it look good?"

"It's beautiful." The guest replied with a smile, "your soul is as beautiful as dance."

He finally laughed, tears rolled down his face, he took two steps back very reservedly, lifted his skirt and bowed his head slightly, and made the curtain call of her dance drama that he had watched thousands of times in the video tape:

"Thanks for watching."

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