My Healing Game

Hearing Han Fei's voice, the fugitive's face changed, and doubts and confusion flashed in his eyes.

But it was just a turn of time, and all his expressions returned to normal.

There was no more communication between the two. Han Fei had already walked to the center of the corridor one step ahead of schedule. He did not stand with the others and kept a certain distance from his wife. "The water won't rise to the second floor in a while, so come with me first." The hotel owner knew that he was dying soon, and motioned the waiter to help him back to his room.

"Is there anything you can't say face to face, you have to carry us behind your back? Are you a black shop here? You are directing and acting from beginning to end?" There was no pity or sympathy in the magician's eyes. Poor, his demeanor gradually became relaxed, as if he was only afraid of the old man among all the people present.

"I'm getting older, and I don't have much time left. I want to tell my family something." The old man urged the waiter to follow him into the room, but he happened to be standing at the door of the boss's room with a manic laugh. He didn't seem to want to get out of the way. Intend.

"The injury on your neck is very serious and needs emergency treatment. I happened to be a doctor and learned some surgical first aid knowledge." Laughing wildly, leaning against the door frame: "I can save you.

"No need." Compared with magicians and fugitives, the old man was more afraid of laughter. As long as he saw the handsome and smiling face of the other party, he couldn't help but let out a cold breath in his heart.

"Is there anything more important than my own life?" The manic laughter still did not let go: "There should be first aid kits in the hotel. If you can't find some clean cloth, let me help you stop the bleeding first."

"You have been guarding us, are you worried about the murderer? Or is there a hidden secret in your room?" The magician also came over, and he looked at some of the portraits hanging on the wall: "According to the According to the information on the back of the deceased's head, everyone in the hotel is a guest, but you call yourself the hotel owner, which is very strange.

"Young Master, this shows that I'm not the murderer." The innkeeper's injury couldn't be dragged on any longer. The blood flowed down his neck, looking very terrifying.

"Maybe you are just the first tourist to enter the hotel. You regard this place as your home. You say that you are the owner of the hotel, but in fact you are a thief! Maybe the murderer who killed the original hotel owner is you!" The magician His voice was not loud, but what he said made others think more.

In this hotel with a heart in its name, every visitor has an apparent identity as well as a real identity.

On the surface, the policeman is a policeman who maintains order and justice, but when he encounters danger, he thinks of killing everyone to save his life. In fact, he may be a fugitive. Not to mention wild laughter, at first glance, he is more cheerful than anyone else, but when you really understand it, you will know how terrifying that cheerfulness is.

The innkeeper, the magician, including Han Fei, everyone is like this.

People only show the side they want others to see, and the deeper darkness and gloom are buried in the bottom of their hearts, and their nature will only be exposed when they are alive and dead.

"Two of us may be murderers. Before the voting is completed, no one should try to get out of everyone's sight." The magician didn't know what the innkeeper wanted to tell the waiter behind his back, and the boss couldn't tell What everyone is going to say, so the best way at this time is to not listen to everyone, and let the secret rot in the heart of the innkeeper, or more accurately, in his corpse.

The wind blew against the window glass, the ceiling of the hotel cracked a finger-width gap, and black rain poured into the house.

The first floor of the hotel has accumulated water, and the black rainwater is sticky and turbid, just like the life of some tourists, which is so dull that it makes people restless.

The inn at the center of the labyrinth was swaying in the storm and could collapse at any time. This house seems to have a special meaning to the whole park, and its collapse will also mark the end of something.

"Go on voting," said the seldom-spoken waiter, who seemed to be trying to reassure the innkeeper.

"No problem, but before voting, I want to say one thing." The middle-aged screenwriter leaned against the aisle wall and sat on the ground. He pointed to the wound on his chest: "I vaguely saw the man who wanted to kill my people."

The murderer was seen, and as soon as he said this, everyone stared at him. "who is it?"

"His face is quite distinctive. Unlike the rest of us, I need them to take off all the masks to make a judgment." The middle-aged screenwriter pointed to Han Fei and the waiter who were wearing masks in the house.

The original focus on the innkeeper was shifted to Han Fei and the waiter.

"This person was the last to come in. He has been wearing a mask, so it's really suspicious." The inn owner wanted to target Han Fei, and the others didn't care who was targeted, as long as it wasn't him.

"Do you want to take off the mask?" Han Fei's hoarse voice came from under the mask; "My face was disfigured. I was afraid of scaring people, so I kept wearing the mask."

"I remember the facial outline of the murderer. As long as I see it, I will definitely recognize him." The screenwriter stood with the manic laugh and the fugitive, and the three of them seemed to be a group. "Facial outline? Then the person you see is definitely not me." Han Fei touched the edge of the mask with both hands, and as his hands slowly exerted force, blood dripped down his chin. When he lifted the mask, several people in the room took a deep breath.

Under the smiling face mask is a **** face. He has no facial features. His cheeks and the mask grow together, and he can't see the outline at all. "The murderer is not me." Han Fei held his mask, which was pure white on one side and completely soaked in blood on the other side.

The screenwriter stared at Han Fei's disfigured face and scrutinized it for a while. He seemed to be engaged in a fierce ideological struggle, and after a long time he shook his head: "The murderer is indeed not him,

Should be another person.

In order to take off the mask, Han Fei tore the wound again. After seeing his tragic state, the waiter seemed to have no reason not to take off the mask.

After a moment of hesitation, the waiter also took off his mask, and that was the person. Mixing into the players, taking over all the resources of Han Fei, possessing the same level and ability as Han Fei, and calling himself F by the player.

Others didn't see anything unusual, only his wife's eyes changed at the scene: "Fu Sheng F avoided Fu Yi's wife's sight, and he acted like a stranger.

"That's right, I saw it clearly! The murderer is him!" The screenwriter pointed, his face was pale, but his tone was very certain.

"Impossible! He's been by my side all the time, and you're slandering him!" The innkeeper himself was dying, but he was still maintaining the waiter. "I can see clearly, it's him!" The middle-aged screenwriter insisted.

"It seems as I guessed, the innkeeper and the waiter are the murderers. They killed the real owner of the inn. These two thieves set up this game." The magician was aggressive: "You two don't pretend to be innocent, tell me Is there any way we can escape?"

Except for the middle-aged woman, everyone else has been unanimous, preparing to let the hotel owner and his family out first. During the whole process, Han Fei didn't speak anymore. He took the mask and turned his head to look at his wife.

If the innkeeper dies, will his wife vote for Fu Sheng or herself?

The coagulated blood scab shattered again, and Han Fei was a little tired. He sat at the entrance of the corridor and looked at the rapidly rising water.

"The waiter has no reason to kill the screenwriter. They are far apart, and there are police officers in the middle. If the murderer is not the waiter, why would the screenwriter frame him?" The biggest possibility is that the glass fragments are actually laughter or the screenwriter stabbed in the chest, they want to attack someone with this. "

Han recalled the tone of the screenwriter, and he felt that the real purpose of Mang Laugh and the screenwriter was to target him, but the screenwriter didn't do exactly what Mang Laugh meant, which led to the focus on F, who also wore a mask.

"When the chandelier fell, he went to the counter to help everyone find the light. There was no time to commit the crime. The murderer was someone else! Don't be deceived!" The innkeeper wanted to make it clear, but no one cared about what he said. It takes someone's death to slow down the lives of others, and they need to find a high-sounding reason to kill.

Looking at everyone's eyes, the inn owner was desperate. After he died, it should be the waiter's turn next.

"Okay, since you don't believe it." The old man grabbed the waiter's arm and said a few words in a low voice in his ear. The waiter's expression changed slightly, as if he had not expected such a thing at all.

While the waiter was still in shock, the innkeeper laboriously began to write the waiter's name in blood, looking at the other passengers as he wrote: "The secret about this choice is now known only to him and me, vote, if I die after I die , he didn't live to the end, all of you will be buried with you!"

"Wei Ban? Is the show good?" Most people didn't believe the innkeeper's words, only Han Fei and Kuang Xiao kept staring at the waiter's face, trying to see something.

"You have a way of life that you can let others live, but don't turn this way of life into a rope around your neck." The innkeeper put his ticket into the black box. He wanted to take advantage of the fact that he was still awake. Vote as soon as possible, and help the waiter last a few more rounds.

The black rain flooded the first floor of the hotel. The third round ended very quickly. No one died. After the police officer died, the fugitive found Mad Laughter. He decided to give his vote to the screenwriter according to the previous proposal of Mad Laughter. Vote for him so all three of them can live. Since there were no dead people, the black rainstorm became even bigger, the cracks on the roof were spreading, and a lot of rainwater flowed directly into the house from the top of the hotel, and the water on the first floor of the hotel was slowly deepening.

"Continue to vote." The old man in the inn insisted on voting. His arms were shaking more and more violently, and the wound on his neck was bleeding so much that he was out of breath.

The time for the fourth round of voting was deliberately lengthened by the magician and screenwriter, who looked at the innkeeper not as if they were looking at a person, but more like they were looking at a sacrifice. The waiter hurriedly stopped the bleeding for the innkeeper, but it was of no use. The old man was already sick.

The fourth round of voting was over, and no one died in the hotel. At this time, the black water had risen to the stairs. The sofas they had sat on in the hall were soaked in black water, and the corpse lying flat on the dining table was also slow. Slowly floating, its arms were washed away, as if standing in **** with open arms, waiting for several other people to come to accompany it.

The torrential rain is wanton and impetuous, destroying the hotel, the building is swaying, and the collapse may be in the next second.

"Continue!" The innkeeper seemed to return to the light. After he wrote the waiter's name and put it in the black box, he staggered against the wall and walked towards the magician. Under everyone's attention, he grabbed the magician's clothes and whispered a few words.

"Don't get me wrong, he didn't tell me anything," the magician explained to those around him, but no one believed what he said. After the old man said those words, it seemed that because of physical exhaustion, he no longer had the ability to walk back.

What surprised Han Fei was that the waiter who was on the same front as the old man did not come to help the old man this time, but was struggling with a pen. He hesitated for a moment when he wrote his name. "has a problem"

At the end of the fifth round of voting, Han Fei had a premonition that something was wrong, so he approached his wife in advance. Strangely, as long as he moved, the half-dead old man had difficulty moving himself. "What does he want to do?"

The seriously ill old man with a cut neck had no pretense, but Han Fei suddenly thought of the hesitation when the waiter wrote his name. The momentary hesitation was captured by Han Fei,

A conjecture popped into his mind.

"Could the old man know that he was going to die, so he deliberately didn't let the waiter write his name? He wanted to use the few seconds of black mist gushing out of his body to kill someone in the house!" Han Fei also said When thinking of this, the dying old man's skin cracked, and mist seeped out of his nose and mouth, rushing towards Han Fei like a monster!

"His target is me?"

The old man seemed to know that his wife was Fu Sheng's mother. Only by killing Han Fei would his wife not hesitate and help Fu Sheng wholeheartedly. He knew in his heart that he would die, but he would use his own death in exchange for a way of life for Fu Sheng.

The black mist devours everything, and it is impossible to get rid of it when touched.

Facing the sudden attack of the old man~www.wuxiaspot.com~ Han Fei was fortunately prepared in advance, and he stepped back at a faster speed.

The old man struggled in the black fog for longer than the police officer. He found that it was hopeless to kill Han Fei, and immediately rushed towards the little girl who couldn't speak.

For Fu Sheng, the best solution is to kill Han Fei and let the mother and son recognize each other; the second is to kill the little girl and force the magician to cooperate with Fu Sheng. The black mist gnawed at the heart, lungs and flesh, and the kind and amiable old man was now like a ferocious devil, his hands eroded by the black mist grabbed the girl.

The terrified child tried desperately to dodge, but she was standing on the edge of the fence. "When you die, more people can live. He is the most suitable choice." The hand in the black mist touched the girl, but in the next moment, something no one expected happened.

Han Fei, who had already avoided him, took the initiative to rush over. When the girl was about to be dealt with by the black mist of the old man, he took the risk of being swallowed by the black mist and dragged the girl aside. In just a few seconds, the old man was completely engulfed by the black mist, he let out an unwilling roar, and disappeared into the black box.

Han Fei hugged the girl with lingering fears. He subconsciously checked that the girl touched Hei Wu's arm, and all this was seen by the middle-aged screenwriter. Many people treat the little girl as a key, only a young building manager has treated her as a real child.

Staring at the **** face, the middle-aged screenwriter already had his own judgment.

"The girl has the same face as Xiao Ba, and is his earliest friend, and he will not sit back and watch the child be killed in front of him.

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