The Master of the Strange Realm

He suddenly felt that he was playing a rogue.

"I mean, last night was beautiful, yes, it was beautiful."

Jenkins had never experienced anything like this before, so he didn't know what to say naturally at this moment. But his clumsy performance is itself a kind of "natural" performance. Hathaway was not angry, but laughed:

"To be honest, I really didn't expect you to be so bold yesterday. I thought I would have to wait a long, long time before you do this, yes, a long, long time."

Her left hand unconsciously played with the ends of her hair, and then she kissed his cheek gently.

It was Jenkins who took the initiative yesterday. He suspected that Hathaway had added [Witch's Kiss] to the meal, but that was impossible. That kind of thing could not affect him.

"I figured something out and I think this is the right thing to do."

The two of them have done similar things in the dream world, so last night was not actually the first time, but it was also the first time... Jenkins couldn't explain it all very well, and he couldn't explain it accurately in a few words. Narrate his feelings.

The lady threw her arms around Jenkins' neck again;

"You are indeed different. Although I knew you liked us in the past, I can also feel that you are rejecting us and you are rejecting everyone. You are different now. I am very happy, Jenkins. You don't need to tell me Explain what happened to you, but I'm really happy."

Chapter 1182 Chapter 1162 Burrow

"I'm happy about that, too, Hathaway."

Jenkins, who was lying on his side, felt that his throat was a little hoarse now. This may be an illusion, it may be because of being too nervous, or it may be because of the strange feeling of fear caused by the cat's claws scratching the back of his neck.

"Speaking of which, at this moment, are there any necessary rituals that I need to do, such as making a bowl of red bean soup?"

"Oh, Jenkins, what are you talking about?"

Hathaway asked doubtfully, but then laughed again:

"Look, I know that I must be the first one. Even if there are many girls around you, I will definitely be the first one. There is nothing wrong with that."

What happened last night was definitely a big deal for Jenkins, but when he woke up in the morning, he didn't feel the sense of solemn ceremony, so he felt a little inexplicable.

After getting up, the two had breakfast together. They planned to spend the day with Hathaway, but she drove them away.

"We are not married, do you understand? Sometimes your clumsiness is a bit too much, just go do your own thing."

Before leaving, Hathaway arranged Jenkins' clothes and stood on tiptoes to kiss him gently. There seemed to be nothing abnormal about the elegant red-haired girl, and Jenkins could only feel the joy in her heart.

"In this way, you will really become my lover."

Hathaway also said this when the two kissed goodbye. Seeing the astonishment on Jenkins' face, she patiently arranged his collar for him:

"Everything will be fine, Jenkins. Before the end of the summer, our affairs will have a perfect ending. Oh, sir, please be serious. I am waiting for you to ask me to hang out next time. Do you want me to take the initiative?"

"Next time...yes, next time. Miss Hesha, when can you have time? I can always..."

All in all, it was a wonderful night that made Jenkins grow a lot. On the way to Dad's antique store, I kept thinking about last night's experience. The girl was as enthusiastic as the red hair she had, and Jenkins now concluded that she usually didn't have any metal brackets under her clothes to flatter her figure. And her perfume smells great.

Ding dong~

The door of the antique store was pushed open, and Dad looked up at Jenkins, who looked serious, and then at the cat who was obviously angry.

"What are you thinking about so early? The theory of man and nature or the death of all things?"

Dad asked casually, his eyes returning to the newspaper.

“All things multiply.”

Jenkins has the answer.

The father was stunned, touched his chin and looked at Jenkins in surprise, wondering whether this was a real person. After thinking for a long time, I still couldn't figure out how to answer this sentence, so I simply gave up the topic and said:

"I brought the things you left in the church for you. You can take them home directly in the evening. Now that the angel thing is over, you should settle down and continue studying. Don't run around all day. It won't do you any good. benefit."

After a short "grounding", Jenkins was allowed to go home and live, and his personal belongings, including the lost butterfly, had to be taken back.

Jenkins listened absently to his father's words and looked at the counter in a daze. A small suitcase contained his change of clothes, while his cane and glass bottle were placed beside the alley.

"Meow~"

The cat with a strange expression on its face walked up to the glass bottle, then with a vengeful expression, stretched out its front paws, and the bottle fell directly from the counter, falling to the ground with a crisp cracking sound.

Because he was absent-minded, Jenkins' first reaction to the dropped object was to reach out to catch it, and then by coincidence, he happened to bump into the lost butterfly that had just regained freedom.

The butterfly was fluttering in the dry room. The cat jumping down from above and the man holding out his hand next to it touched its wings simultaneously, one on the left and the other on the right.

Without any abnormality, the man and the cat disappeared out of thin air, leaving only the dumbfounded father holding the newspaper, watching in surprise as the butterflies continued to fly.

"this......"

Seeing the butterfly flying towards him, the old man jumped up from the rocking chair in front of the fireplace, grabbed his coat and retreated to the door, then carefully opened the door to let the cold wind in, and quickly slipped out.

He shut the door of the store heavily, looked through the glass of the window into the empty store. The glass fragments in front of the counter flickered like noble works of art under the light of the gas lamp, and the butterfly resting on the chocolate mat was still shaking its wings.

The thousands of words in the old man's heart finally converged into a complaint containing the essence of the Nolan dialect. After locking the door, he put his hands behind his back, without even an umbrella or a coat, and walked towards the church in the morning drizzle.

(Finnie is praying...)

Jenkins couldn't understand what was going on very well. When he realized that he had touched the lost butterfly, it was too late.

The uncomfortable space transfer occurred immediately, and the dizziness and the illusion in front of him made him lose the ability to think. Jenkins still cannot understand the mystery of space, and he cannot observe the strange scene in the space transformation seriously.

All he can do is hold his cat tightly, and when he sees the huge claws stretching out in the mottled color block, he splits the claws in half with a sword.

The last time he touched the lost butterfly, he was lucky enough that the location he was transferred to was actually in the same city. But this time, luck did not favor Jenkins again. When he came to his senses, he fell into the snow.

He sat up on the snow surface, looking around, there was an endless snowfield, and in the distance, he could vaguely see the towering snow-capped mountains that seemed to be connected to the sky.

"No matter where this is, this can't be Nolan, this is not even the west coast of the continent... Hey, what is this?"

He pinched the soft cat in his hand, confirmed that it was fine, and looked up to see a wooden sign standing not far away. Without bothering to blame the cat who wanted to attack the butterfly again, Jenkins shook off the snow on his head and shoulders, walked over and saw the words on the wooden sign:

[Don't come over! 】

Although the three kingdoms use the same writing, their languages ​​are different. Due to the differences in habits in different places, there will be slight differences in the writing of letters in the same region. The person who wrote on the sign obviously did not know how to write the letters in standard way. Jenkins almost did not recognize the cursive letters.

"Huh? What does this mean?"

The foot was empty. Because of the weight of the man and the cat, the hole under the wooden sign was exposed and welcomed them warmly.

The hole was originally covered with dead branches and straw to prevent people from not seeing the hole here in the white sky. In order to prevent falling, someone even put up a sign. Unfortunately, the heavy snow covered everything, and the wooden sign attracted Jenkins instead.

Chapter 1183 Chapter 1163 Lonely Studio

There were no traps or animal traps under the cave where Jenkins fell, only a round hole emitting white light. At the moment of entering the strange world, Jenkins was not surprised, but felt that this was a natural thing.

"I am so hard!"

After experiencing two space transfers in a row, Jenkins now barely managed not to vomit. He lay on his side on the cold marble floor. In addition to feeling the cat on his chest constantly squirming and trying to escape, he could only see the strange red world and yellow moon outside the huge French window in front of him.

He now knew that the strange world came from the world of the masters, so the shadow outside meant that when the master who owned this place achieved himself, the night sky of the material world might only have the most primitive yellow moon.

"Are you okay?"

Jenkins was not ready to sit up, and a pair of big hands supported his arms. Looking back, he saw that two companions were waiting here. The one who helped him sit up was a sturdy middle-aged man wearing a heavy cotton coat. He had dark skin and a noticeable teardrop mole at the corner of his left eye; not far away, looking around, was a young woman in a mink coat, taller than Jenkins and the strange man.

Judging from her clothes, she looked like a lady, and even more so from her temperament.

"Where is this? Is it the custom here that nobles have to personally participate in the strange world exploration?"

Jenkins couldn't figure it out, but he felt his head clearer, so he opened his mouth to thank the man who helped him up. But his face was still ugly, and the sequelae of space movement had not completely disappeared.

Then the three of them briefly introduced themselves. The two strangers were companions, and they also set up warning signs there to warn passers-by not to be curious. Out of caution, the three did not introduce their real identities too much, but just talked about their abilities.

No one said their names. The strangers called themselves Mr. Stone and Ms. Glasses. Jenkins called himself Mr. Cat because he really had a cat with him.

Then, they were ready to face this adventure.

From the surrounding environment, this room with huge floor-to-ceiling windows is obviously a studio. Drawing boards and oil paintings can be seen everywhere here, and easels are irregularly arranged around the room, leaving only the position near the window empty.

All the easels have drawing boards and canvases, but most of them are blank; the few canvases with content mostly depict some weird and strange scenes or creatures.

These paintings cannot be looked at often, otherwise there will be an illusion that the things in the paintings have walked out of the canvas and an inexplicable feeling of panic. This reminded Jenkins of the first artifact he destroyed, the painting that reflected his inner desires.

Now that I think about it, that was already more than half a year ago.

In addition to Jenkins and the two strangers, at the other end of the open space in front of the window, a young painter with his back to the three people was holding a palette in his left hand. His thumb passed through the hole in the palette, and the other hand held a Draw on the blank canvas in front of you with a paintbrush.

He was wearing an exaggerated red dress with intricate tassels and lace decorations on the back, a fluffy beret on his head, and a pair of brown lace-up leather boots. He looked like a painter indeed.

Because the distance was very close, the three of them could clearly see what he drew. It was the three people in front of the window, and even the cat with its head sticking out from between the buttons was drawn by him. The painter's brush is always on the canvas, but he can apply the color he wants at will.

Not paying attention to the cat's eyes looking at the yellow moon outside the window, Jenkins looked at his companions and saw that they were unwilling to take the initiative to speak, so he coughed and said:

"Sir, I'm sorry to interrupt your serious creation. I would like to ask, how can we get out of here?"

The sound echoed in the huge and empty studio, and the echo made people subconsciously uneasy.

"You can leave after you draw three paintings. It doesn't matter whether it's one per person or another distribution plan, as long as you can draw it and make it complete."

The painter said with his back to the three of them, his voice was tired and cold, and he was dissatisfied with being interrupted by Jenkins.

Jenkins nodded and looked around but didn't find what he was looking for, so he looked at Mr. Stone. This time it was his turn to ask.

The middle-aged man did not shirk. He understood what Jenkins meant, so he said:

"Then, if it's convenient, could you lend us some paints and brushes."

"The paintings here don't require paint or brushes. What they need is emotion! It's memories! Those of you without talent won't understand."

All three of them felt that they were despised, but they could not beat up the painter who had his back turned to them.

But at least the general situation has been clarified now. Different from the anticlimactic doomsday ambiguity that Jenkins experienced last time, the rules of this ambiguity are obviously much simpler.

The three people who had temporarily become companions moved slightly away from the painter who was unwilling to look back, and then began to discuss strategies in a low voice. Jenkins was glad that none of his companions had entered the treacherous realm for the first time, so no one wanted to force others to try it first.

"Instead of wasting time, it would be better to make it simpler. We will sort out the order by drawing lots..."

The woman suggested this, and then looked at Jenkins:

"You make the lots and we draw them."

This sounds fair, but the abilities of the Givers have always been weird, and Jenkins is not sure whether the other party has the ability to control the draw. But at least the result was good for him, because he was drawn third, with Miss Glasses second and Mr. Stone first.

"[Stage of Destiny] is a passive ability, and there is nothing I can do about it."

He apologized quietly to his companions in his heart. Mr. Stone couldn't hear what Jenkins was saying. He could only sigh while looking at the note with 1 written on it in his hand, but he had no regrets.

There are a lot of blank canvases around, so there are a lot of options. Mr. Shitou looked around and chose the outermost one on the left because it was the one closest to the three of them.

He looked back at the woman and wanted to say something, but she closed her mouth as soon as she opened it. He shook his head, walked to the canvas alone, looked at his free hand, and then, under the gaze of the two people behind him, stretched out his right index finger and pointed at the center of the canvas.

The man's body shook suddenly, and then centered on that finger, the thick oil color spread like a liquid.

At the same time, the same uneven traces of oil appeared on the walls of the studio. As those colorful colors spread, the space of the studio gradually became blurred.

Chapter 1184 Chapter 1164 The Spider of the Abyss

The studio space disappeared before his eyes, and the cave environment occupied the space around the three people. Before the spreading darkness enveloped them, Jenkins took out his own candle and illuminated the surroundings.

"Watch out for spiders!"

Mr. Shitou's words seemed to come from a very far away place. Before Jenkins could speak, he heard a rustling sound coming from the cracks in the cave wall.

The glasses lady screamed and then immediately covered her mouth. Although Jenkins is not very afraid of spiders, he couldn't help but shudder when he saw the hairy spiders all over the wall.

But these are not threats. There is something bigger that is attracted by the light of the candle in Jenkins' hand. At this moment, Mr. Shitou disappeared, and there was a vibrating sound from further in the cave.

With a sharp sound breaking through the air, a ball of sticky white spider silk as big as two heads, somewhere between liquid and solid, shot from the depths of the cave, but hit Jenkins' wall of fire head-on. The flames burned the white spider silk quickly, and even the dense black poisonous spiders squirming on the wall moved away from Jenkins in a panic like a tide.

"Here are his memories. I heard him talk about this adventure. It was seven years ago."

The glasses lady prompted, looking behind the two of them vigilantly to prevent unknown enemies from appearing from there.

Jenkins nodded, and had a preliminary understanding of the routine of this strange place. The spider silk flying from the depths of the cave had been burned clean. He hesitated for a moment, and then led Miss Eyes to the direction where the spider silk flew.

Both of them now knew that they might have entered the painting, but they didn't know how to escape from here. So moving towards the place where there are clues, although there will definitely be danger, there will definitely be no mistakes. Jenkins just hopes that his cat will not pretend to be afraid again. He knows that Chocolate is never afraid of such little bugs.

Even with candle lighting, it is difficult for light to penetrate the ink-like darkness in the cave. The passage in front is a straight road without any forks. But less than five minutes later, Jenkins noticed that the darkness not far ahead could not be illuminated.

Even if you continue to move forward with the light source, the light cannot enter there, as if there is a barrier there that can completely absorb the light.

"This..."