I founded Tantric Buddhism in London

Murray Hanks, a former orderly of the 5th Berkshire Fusiliers.

Nowadays, the fool and useless person in the eyes of everyone - who will throw himself into the tragic battlefield just for the childish reason of protecting the country - has now changed from a strong runner to a limp.

However, recently, no one dared to call Murray a cripple in front of his face anymore - that group of idle and lazy people who spoke out loud hanged themselves collectively in the crooked-neck tree outside the village entrance in the early morning of a certain day. The death situation is not particularly terrible, but dozens of long nails were stuffed into the mouth, as if he died by swallowing nails.

Murray Hanks, who had settled his grudges, ended his vacation in the group and returned to the secret headquarters of the order, where he held his arms around his shoulders and raised his neck to drink with other old comrades/new members who were also smiling happily.

They worked hard for a long time in dark corners where no one could see them, making many powerful weapons and committing murders one after another - under the guidance of Mr. Nello, they did not use any clanging weapons at all. The power of the blade.

Rather, it was like tying up one's own hands and feet, just using the power of a mortal.

Therefore, those stupid detectives only thought that this murder was just a fight between gangs, and did not realize that these disputes and killings were actually their rituals to worship the code of the blade - they had learned from death and chaos. With enough power of conflict, the blade in the soul body becomes sharper and sharper.

Mr. Nello has great magical powers, and from time to time he will take out a new and advanced firearm blueprint for them to forge - participating in this revolution and innovation in the weapons industry will naturally make the casting in their bodies burn brightly.

Moreover, there is an almost constant supply of diluted vitality potions for these retired soldiers to use, and even their hearts are pulsing vigorously.

Such an extremely high-speed promotion that transcends common sense and cognition should have distorted the thinking and cognition of this group of mortals, disintegrated their rational super-ego, and caused their insanity to go out of control.

But the seductive whispers that keep echoing in their minds are as worthless as the low-priced words of insurance sales for this group of tough-minded soldiers who have experienced the suffering of war and the glare of others.

It cannot influence their thinking at all, and it cannot extinguish their fanatical passion for revolution!

Murray had just finished a carnival party with his church members last night - they were celebrating today's revolutionary achievements at the banquet! Plans to celebrate the House of Lords riot are complete! They are also paying tribute to the seven faithful believers who sacrificed fearlessly with generous war songs! ! !

The banquet last night was really drunk!

The whiskey was obviously as strong as industrial high-strength alcohol, and even their group of secret messengers, whose bodies had been strengthened by the power of the three phases of Blade and Heart, were drunk.

But now I think about it after waking up from the dream. When the amber wine flows into my mouth, it tastes mellow and sweet like a virgin's blood. I can't help but smack my tongue in retrospect. I feel like I can still recall that alluring smell when I press my tongue against the roof of my mouth. fragrance.

Murray couldn't help but swallowed deeply and pushed away the four white thighs lying across his body.

The tired and haggard prostitute was still asleep in her dream. She didn't realize that she had rolled under the bed. She just moaned slightly and didn't even open her eyes.

Murray shook his head vigorously, only to feel that his head was extremely dizzy, and every shake seemed to cause strange clicking sounds to ripple inside his skull.

"The wine last night... was really strong!"

"I don't know whether it is Mr. Nello's private collection or the restaurant's own special supply of wine. The taste is really unforgettable. It's like drinking a glass of wine and you can leave all the suffering and troubles in the world behind. ...Next time I have a vacation, I must invite all my good brothers to go there again and drink him all night long——"

Murray suddenly stopped washing his face, raised his head with confusion, and thought to himself: "Wait a minute, which pub did we go to party last night?"

"Is it the Rules restaurant in the North District?"

"It looks like the Simpsons Tavern again?"

“Or the Dorchester on the South Side, or the Black Crow on the East Side?”

"Hiss..." Murray hammered his head hard, and the crisp sound of gold and iron suddenly burst out, and the buzzing of the ancient bell reverberated in his skull.

"Which restaurant is this from? Why can't we get up for the meeting now?"

At this moment, when the hungover Murray was racking his brains to recall last night's experience, he was shocked to find that his memory seemed to have many memories overlapping in confusion.

For example, at one point, Murray Hanks would recall that he had arrived at the Dorchester Restaurant in a stagecoach.

But after the next moment of trance, he suddenly recalled that he stopped a taxi and came to the Rules restaurant. Wait, that doesn’t seem right. I remember that I seemed to be with my brothers directly after leaving the military factory. Simpson's Tavern within walking distance? ? ?

Murray Hanks instinctively began to trace back to earlier memories, trying to dig out his real memories in the chaotic and complex brain.

But when he recalled it seriously, the shock and horror in his heart not only did not ease, but became more intense. The confusion in his heart was like a hazy and dark fog. When Murray Hanks was in the dark As he walked forward, he suddenly looked back and saw that the road he had just taken had changed into something else, and the newly recalled past memories no longer corresponded to them at all.

His memory has become fragmented and complicated. Every day before and after seems to have a completely different and completely disconnected life. The day before, he was studying Mr. Nello's new drawings with his church members at the main factory, planning to officially start the official business tomorrow. Mass production begins.

But the memory of the next day had already turned into them carrying freshly baked goods to the hands of radicals. Even for a moment, the memory of this day changed to him rushing onto a ship with his brothers one night carrying The valuable merchant ships returning from plundering from the far east snatched away ancient cultural relics that had been stolen from other places.

Murray angrily slit the throats of the two prostitutes who were in the way. He sat in a pool of blood with a ferocious face and kept beating his head, and his head kept making muffled sounds.

"Fake!!! What on earth is going on?!!!"

"What's wrong with my memory?!!!"

“Why is every day filled with memories of different routes?!!!”

Murray Hanks knocked his head until it felt like it was bruised and swollen, and his forehead was bulging with veins that were as winding as snakes.

He finally discovered the origin of his abnormal memory.

The fragmented and mottled memories actually only occupy a very small part of his life memories. His childhood, youth, service, and retirement are all normal memories.

The abnormal memory started after receiving the letter from the gathering of comrades.

It was as if from the day he received the letter, his memory had extended out many branches like a leafy tree. The branches of these memories had very similar details, but not all were the same.

Now, he can't even remember where he reunited with his old comrades that day.

The only detail that is certain is that Mr. Nello stood at the front of the table as chairman that night and delivered an impassioned speech. Even Johnny, who was about to run away from the battlefield, changed his mind and resolutely joined our revolutionary ranks.

And their group of 'waste soldiers', who had suffered countless looks and indifference, also gained a new lease of life that night!

"Are these chaotic memories the work of Mr. Nero?"

"Is this move to prevent us from leaking the secrets of the Order?"

"But why didn't I discover such an anomaly until today? Could it be that it was actually at the celebration banquet last night that Mr. Nero performed such an unimaginable secret technique???"

Murray Hanks pinched his calf, which was as strong as steel, feeling the power flowing in his blood vessels that even he found terrifying, and suddenly felt that so what if his memory was confused? !

As long as you don't recall these memories, they won't affect your life. Even the multiple memories created by overlapping chaos can expand the breadth of your life a lot - each memory is not exactly the same. Symbolizing different killings, different forgings, different sports.

It was as if he had lived through the time of seven different experiences.

"Murray, it's time to leave."

"The thugs from the Anti-Suppression Bureau have already followed the bread crumbs."

Familiar words rang in Murray Hanks’ head again.

This faint sound was neither his auditory hallucination nor his soliloquy.

Rather, they were the real words that resounded in his head - the speaker was an insect parasitic on the surface of his brain.

An ancient zerg that can help him awaken the true face of flesh and blood.

A psychic zerg that helps church members communicate with each other remotely.

Murray immediately woke up from his stupor. He asked anxiously in his heart: "You came to the door so soon? What about the other church members? Have they been transferred smoothly?"

"..." The zerg inside the skull did not answer his question.

And Murray had begun to have an incredible premonition of danger in his heart. He immediately climbed out of the hotel window and recited the scriptures of the Secret of the Blade in his heart.

The claws he carried with him also became hard and sharp, and inserting into the cement-filled wall was as easy as inserting tofu. He crawled on the wall like a flexible lizard, and easily jumped onto the roof of the neighboring building, following the mottled The escape plan that was exactly the same in his memory was put into action.

Under the cover of the darkest sky before dawn, the former orderly escaped into the gray shadows and disappeared into the dirty, damp darkness of this cold city.

But other soldiers of the Fifth Fusiliers of the old Berkshire Brigade who were indirectly involved in the riots are still sleeping in a drunken dream, waiting for the fate of Cangdang being imprisoned.

Charlotte Holmes looked at the open window. The silk curtains stained with blood were rustling in the cold wind. The two female corpses with cut throats on the handmade carpet had dried up their blood. Their thin faces were full of despair and struggle. .

The newly rising sun sheds light golden light, reflecting the traces of nails on the exterior wall of the hotel.

The female detective's eyes also followed the stabbing marks, calculating in her mind the end point of the other party's escape.

“Is it the Upper Norwood area?”

………………

It's a new day.

Although there are basically only two or three mental patients left in the dormitory building in Area 1.

Although the white corridor of the hospital complex still retains a faint smell of blood.

Although the jagged forest trees outside the window still have shocking traces.

But the slightly sweet and fishy air that was breathed into the nostrils smelled so refreshing, and the cool area that came into view was so quiet and comfortable.

The noisy patients in the past finally disappeared, and John Watson was alone in the huge library in the hospital.

He listened to the footsteps gradually approaching and gently closed the book in the book, but in fact the knowledge in the book had already been copied and stored in another library deep in his mind.

The female nurse who rushed over looked at the man with a hideous scar on his face, but she felt unprecedented peace in her heart - when Mr. John gently knocked on the safety door and whispered to save her from the nightmare of panic incontinence, the other party's resolute back that was moving forward to a higher level had been deeply engraved in the heart of this middle-aged woman.

My God! If I still have the youthful beauty and good figure of the 19-year-old, then I must express my love to Mr. John no matter what! ! !

But the old nurse had obviously lost such courage. She could only look at Mr. John, who was not handsome but had a strong charm, with a sweet and disgusting look like Casu Marzu cheese dancing with live maggots.

"Mr. John, Dr. George, please come and ask you to go to his office. He said that the vice president is waiting to discuss discharge with you."

John Watson nodded slightly and thanked him, put the book back to its original position, and then left alone.

The nurse looked at the back that was still as straight as a gun, and her eyes were slightly moist. She murmured in a voice that only she could hear: "Mr. John, why are you leaving so soon... I haven't had time to express my love to you..."

Knock knock knock---Even though he had seen the situation in the room clearly through the left eye, John Watson still knocked on the door in a polite manner.

After getting permission, he pushed the door open and entered. As soon as he entered, he saw that in addition to Dr. George, there was also an elderly man with white hair and beard standing in the room. His face was covered with long scars that were more terrifying than John Watson's.

During the time when Dean Isaac was temporarily away, the deputy dean who was also responsible for the security of Area 3 took charge of the management of the entire Woolsthorpe Mental Hospital.

Although he was only the deputy dean in name, he actually commanded the security team of the entire Woolsthorpe Mental Hospital. The guards who were responsible for guarding Area 3 were all elite soldiers who had served in the extermination force.

Chalamet looked at John Watson who came in, and his slightly narrowed eyes burst out with a sharp edge that seemed to be condensed into substance.

He looked up and down at the hero who saved Area 1 in front of him, and was also examining this mental patient with amnesia.

Then he smiled meaningfully and stretched out his hand to shake hands with John Watson.

"Captain Watson, long time no see."