The Master of the Strange Realm

Even without checking the calendar, Jenkins knew that today must be the 31st. It was snowing outside the window, but the yard was not completely covered. All this showed that this was the third 31st.

"What on earth is going on?"

Standing up, he found the spring water of the Fountain of Wisdom that was supposed to be sacrificed.

"Does the sage know about this?"

He wondered, this power to reverse time was too terrible, but why?

"The 31st of the cycle, the 31st forever... Wait, have I heard of something similar somewhere?"

Maybe before coming to this world, things like time reversal often appeared in literary works. But for this era, this is still a very fresh theme...

"Mr. Bote's Cyclic 31st!"

He finally remembered that the opera he listened to at the opera house was this kind of story theme.

"Will it be just a coincidence?"

He asked himself, after all, it was just an opera, but the time when the two overlapped: 31st, he couldn't help but think about more things.

"Chocolate!"

He shouted, and the cat immediately stood up.

The clock at home showed that the current time was 1 a.m. on the 31st. Jenkins was not sleepy at all. He raised his hand to greet his cat, then took the metal block encapsulating divinity and stepped into the snow in the moonlight.

The Silver Jasmine Opera Troupe would not stay in Nolan City for a long time, but because the pirate king Fermixiu was seen in the dock area, the ships going out to sea were no longer safe, so they were forced to stay for a while longer.

According to their plan, the troupe will leave Nolan next month, that is, tomorrow, and go to Elderon to start a new round of performances. The troupe's residence is in a hotel in the city.

In order to prevent crazy worshipers from causing trouble, the address of the hotel is kept secret. But last month, in order to investigate the extraordinary harmonica related to the troupe, Jenkins saw the address of this group of people when reading the materials.

The cat turned pure white, and Jenkins also summoned the black robe in the spirituality. High-end hotels naturally have high-end guards, but they are just a group of ordinary people.

After some effort, Jenkins finally came to the inside of the hotel. Being a bad guy, he threatened the girl at the front desk with a knife to take out the accommodation registration book, and only came to the third floor after gently knocking her unconscious.

"301, the room of the theater owner."

He stood behind the armor at the corner, the gas lamp with a faint flame on his left, and his body was just blocked by the silhouette of the huge oil painting.

The soul escaped from the body and passed through the wall, and the room was dark. It took less than ten seconds to check it quickly, and there was no one.

"That's great!"

The body with closed eyes trembled a little, and Chocolate immediately retracted the tail that was brushing against the man's face, pretending to be seriously alert.

The door locks of this kind of high-end hotel are all special shapes, and Jenkins took a long time to pry them open. But fortunately, it is midnight now, just be careful not to make too much noise with the lock.

The current scene is very undignified, especially the action of him half-crouching and bending over to pry the lock with wire, but he is not doing it to steal or commit other evil deeds, so he does not feel that his reputation will be damaged.

PS: The extra chapter is over! There is another chapter in the evening normally!

I've tried so hard, please vote!

Chapter 324 Chapter 319 Snowy Night

Chocolate wagged his tail, pretending to be alert and watching both sides of the corridor for Jenkins, and got in through the crack of the door the moment he turned the lock with a click.

He turned around and closed the door, then quickly searched the room.

The script of "Mr. Pott's Forever 31st" was easy to find, right next to the pillow on the bed. It can be seen that this thin stack of paper is often read by people. Jenkins glanced at the content and found that it was indeed the script.

"But why..."

He turned back to the cover, and the moonlight illuminated the name of the author of the script: Mason Pisco.

This name is quite familiar. Last week, a scriptwriter living in Nolan City visited Dad's Antique Store and bought an antique with a story, and asked Jenkins to deliver the antique to his home on the 31st of this month. Therefore, Jenkins knew his address.

"Everything is a coincidence, how can such a thing happen?"

He smiled helplessly. If the possibility of the script being related to this matter was one in ten before seeing the name, it was still nine in ten now.

He picked up the cat on the bed and looked down from the window. After confirming that no one was nearby, he used his ability to climb the heating pipe wrapped in insulation cotton and jumped into the yard.

He didn't plan to sleep again tonight. After leaving the hotel where the Silver Jasmine Opera Troupe stayed, he and the cat rushed to the home of the scriptwriter Mason Pisco in the snow.

Although the weather was very bad, there were still patrolmen and the Orthodox Church combat team disguised as patrolmen patrolling the streets. In the rush across half of the city, Jenkins had to try his best to avoid these people.

He was originally planning to take a carriage, but for some reason, there was no vacant carriage tonight.

Because the temperature was already very low, the snow that started in the middle of the night had completely covered the ground in silver. A string of footprints extended from behind Jenkins, and anyone who was interested could deduce his trajectory based on the footprints in the snow. But Jenkins knew that the snow would last for a long time, and the footprints would be covered again before dawn.

"right here."

He stood at the corner of the street and saw a three-story apartment building in the distance. Through the heavy snow, he could see the gilt door number reflecting the bright moonlight, and the words 21-A were very clear. Mr. Pisco does not have his own place but, like most people in the city, lives in a rented apartment.

Nobles and gentry acquired local houses through inheritance, but due to excessively high housing prices and wide income disparity, other people generally did not own their own houses. The price of the house and land that Jenkins originally bought was so low because of the rumors of being haunted. If it were based on normal prices, it would probably be several times higher. Horizontal comparison, for example, John Watson, who has the same profession as Jenkins, and his friend Sherlock Holmes, before the former became a well-known writer and the latter's detective career really blossomed, the two had to share a house if they wanted to live in London. In an apartment building.

Therefore, except for a few lucky people who can inherit a house (such as Mr. Goodman), most middle-class people in Nolan rent their homes for three, five, or seven years. Houses in metropolitan areas are narrow, and because land is expensive, they are often multi-story houses, which results in one house being used by multiple families at the same time.

The falling snow drifted past the window, and the window on the second floor facing the street was Jenkins' target. If the snow were replaced by rain, the scene would be exactly the same as when Jenkins broke into the apartment and shot the art school student on a rainy night.

"Ha~"

He exhaled into his hands and pinched his ears, feeling slightly warmer. The coldness of the night was far beyond his expectation. His body was warmed by the flames, but his exposed ears already hurt from the cold.

"After this matter is over, we should prepare clothes for winter travel."

He said this to himself, pressed some pressure on his bulging chest, and the cat squirmed to show that he was in good condition. Then he hid behind the mailbox and continued to observe the apartment.

A layer of snow had accumulated on top of the mailbox, covering its rusty surface. Jenkins stretched out his hand and inserted it into the cold snow to smooth it out for easier observation. But at this moment, he unexpectedly found a person standing in front of the second-floor window.

This was no illusion. The gas light soon came on in the apartment on the second floor. Mr. Pisco, who was wearing pajamas, a coat, and holding a tea cup, shrank his head, opened his window, trembled, and then walked towards Jenkins waved.

Jenkins was stunned for a moment and looked around. He was indeed the only one nearby.

Before he could decide whether he should escape immediately or rush in boldly, the door to the building was opened. Mr. Pisco and the very impatient middle-aged landlady stood in the hall. The gas lamp was still flickering because it had just been turned on.

"Mr. Willamt, come in quickly, it's so damn cold!"

The middle-aged man walked to the stone steps of the door in slippers, waved to Jenkins quickly, and then immediately retreated into the room. Although there was a canopy above, there was still a layer of snow on the steps because of the wind.

Seeing Jenkins looking like he wanted to retreat, he shouted loudly: "Sir, I know why you are here and what you want to know. You can retreat and leave, but I promise, you want to The answer can only be found here."

This time it seemed that he had found the right target. Seeing that he had no other choice, Jenkins walked out from the corner generously, holding the pistol with one hand in his pocket. Before entering the foyer, he brushed off the snow on his body and smiled sheepishly at the landlady.

The latter ignored Jenkins completely. She was wearing pajamas and a hairnet, complaining loudly to Mr. Pisco that there were visitors at such a late hour.

Jenkins sneered and followed Mr. Pisco up the stairs. The landlady was downstairs, closing the door behind Feng Xue.

He looked at Pisco's back suspiciously. This gentleman had obviously been waiting for Jenkins to arrive. Upon entering the apartment, he saw the tea set he had prepared on the table, which further proved his point.

Compared to the Jenkins' house, Pisco's apartment seemed a bit small. But the living room unexpectedly had its own independent fireplace. After closing the door, Pisco bent down and flicked the fire a few times with a poker to make the flame bigger, and then sat in the armchair opposite Jenkins.

Chapter 325 Chapter 320 Everything is destined

The interior is a bit messy, as this is a typical apartment for a man living alone. In addition to the chairs occupied by two people in front of the fireplace, there were some messy manuscripts on the yellow wooden floor. On the wall near the window, there is a brown wooden bookshelf. On the shelves were various novels and story books, and Jenkins even saw his own book.

The coat and hat were hung on the hangers at the door. Now that Pisco called out his real name, he also took off his disguise. Now Jenkins was wearing a dark blue sweater with a black velvet vest. Chocolate lay on Jenkins' lap and let him ruffle the hair on her back.

At first, neither of them spoke, and the firelight illuminated half of the two men's faces. The swaying shadows climbed over his face, and Jenkins always felt that the middle-aged writer opposite him looked pale, as if he was about to die soon.

"I'm sorry to meet you in this way."

Pisco was the first to speak. Without waiting for Jenkins to ask, he showed an apologetic expression and said proactively: "In fact, the time loop you have experienced in the past few days was indeed led by me. I went to the antique store that day to stay. Please leave the address, but don’t worry, I will pay the remaining balance.”

He kept using honorifics, which made Jenkins uneasy.

"I know who you are."

As if he saw what Jenkins was thinking, he immediately explained. Before Jenkins could ask any questions, he stood up and pulled over a red copper box placed on the fireplace.

There is also a picture frame next to the box, which contains a black and white photo of Pisco himself. The background is also the house, but the fireplace is sealed. Compared with today's middle-aged people, the young man with a bright smile in the old photo looks much healthier.

"Yes, I know everything."

He nodded seriously at Jenkins, who still had a confused expression on his guard:

"Does he know who I am? The false god? The twin demons? The man in black robe who collects weird things? Mr. Candle?"

"Meow~"

The cat lying on Jenkins' lap shook its body and asked Jenkins to take his hands away. Then he slowly stood up, meowed at the man as if in demonstration, and then lay down again.

It took a long time to wait for Jenkins' hand to come back, and it pawed at its pants impatiently.

The box itself had no aura, but when it was opened, the dazzling white aura almost blinded Jenkins. He immediately covered his eyes, feeling like tears were about to flow.

"Are you okay?"

Pisco asked immediately, handing him a towel. After rubbing his cheek a little, Jenkins didn't dare to use the Eye of Truth anymore this time.

In the box is a rolled paper tube, carefully tied with a red ribbon. At first glance, I didn’t think there was anything special about it, but the more I looked at it, the more I felt that my breathing was becoming unsmooth.

The beating sound of the heart is getting stronger and stronger, and all the blood in the body is being supplied to the head. A thin and seductive voice could be heard faintly in his ears, and the fire flames in his sight curled into a weird vortex.

Everything around him was distorted, and as the time he stayed in his gaze grew, the distortion became stronger and stronger.

Jenkins took a sharp breath and turned his head to the side. When he exhaled this long breath, except for a slight dizziness and a stinging pain in the back of his head, there was nothing serious.

"As expected of you, you are not affected by it at all!"

When Mr. Pisco saw that Jenkins was no longer looking at it, he placed the box on the small wooden table between them. There were two teacups and a teapot there, but Jenkins didn't touch the cups.

"Oh, I forgot to introduce, sorry."

He then remembered and said quickly: "This piece of paper is part of C-07-0-0001, [The Epic of Time]. To be precise, it is just a blank page. I rely on it to turn back time. William Mr. Te, I know you still have many things to ask, but I’m very sorry that I can’t answer them yet.”

Mr. Pisco nodded slightly, with a serious face: "Please listen, on the 31st, today, the beginning of something that can cause the destruction of one-third of the continent will occur in our city. This is a correct prediction. , it was this piece of paper that gave me inspiration. And the only way out is for you to solve it. I keep looping for 31 days, just to ask you to find out what happened that caused the beginning of the destruction."

Seeing that Jenkins didn't reply, he added: "Please listen, this piece of paper, a page of the epic of time, has been in my body since I was born. Yes, I have been the giver since I was born, and I rely on Its power climbed to level 8 in just forty years with almost no difficulty."

He put two fingers of his right hand on his forehead. When Jenkins looked over again, the light spot had appeared.

"This piece of paper has helped me do many things, such as hiding my identity as a benefactor. Sometimes, I even wonder whether I am the owner of this page, or whether I am just a soul born from this piece of paper. "

Although he said this, there was no distress at all on the middle-aged man's face. He held the handle of the teapot and poured himself a cup of tea. A wisp of smoke rose slowly and then dissipated in the air.

He looked at Jenkins, who shook his head hesitantly, and the man put the pot down again.

What this man named Pisco said is too unbelievable, but what is certain is that this page is indeed the culprit of everything. At that moment of flashback, he had vaguely seen a book, and this page gave Jenkins the same feeling as that book.

He thought about it and felt that there was no logical flaw in what the man just said, but it was still difficult to accept:

"In other words, you use the power of this piece of paper to reverse time to give me a chance to save the world? Sir, this is a bit ridiculous."

The corners of Mr. Pixar's mouth curved up, showing some smile:

"But it is true. I have been wondering for a long time whether there is any special purpose for fate to let this piece of paper appear in my hands, to make my life so smooth, and to make me become a level 8 gifter at an astonishing speed. It was not until last year, the night before I wrote the script, that I suddenly realized: I came to this world and lived such a life, just to sit here and talk to you on this day. Everything is destined."

He stretched out his hand, and the paper roll in the box automatically rose into the air. With a gentle push, it slowly flew towards Jenkins.

Chocolate jumped up at once, but was held down by Jenkins. He hesitated for a moment and held the roll of paper, untied the knot of the ribbon and presented the contents.

Chapter 326 Chapter 321 The World Savior

This was originally a blank piece of paper, which was well preserved. There was no stain on the light yellow paper, and the touch did not feel so smooth. At the top, two sentences were written in the common language of cursive script with a rare feather pen dipped in dark blue ink: Go back to the early morning of the 31st.

These two sentences led to two events going against the flow, and if nothing unexpected happens, this kind of thing will happen again.

Jenkins rolled up the paper again, tied a bow carefully and put it back into the box. This explanation made sense at present, but there were still many questions.

He comforted the dissatisfied cat, licked his dry lips, and asked a seemingly insignificant question first:

"Mr. Pisco, if what you just said is true. Then, do you think your life is deliberately arranged?"

The middle-aged man shook his head again, and the furry stubble on his face was particularly clear under the firelight:

"I sighed when I was young, but it doesn't matter now. What is arrangement? What is freedom? I live happily, and all my decisions are made out of my own will. Moreover, compared to those poor people who curled up in the corner of the alley to spend the winter, I can hold a teacup and talk to you about these things, so what qualifications do I have to complain?"

Jenkins accepted this answer. He just wanted to judge whether the things about the epic of years were true or false.

"What is the epic of years?"

He asked again. This phrase contains the word "years", and the security level is 0, so the special status can be imagined.