"Which room do you live in?" Sherlock remembered that this little girl was in a shipwreck with him.
"Room 23..." The little girl seemed happy that someone could help her and said with a smile.
There seem to be only 22 rooms on the ship. Forget it, maybe he remembered it wrong.
"Come with me." After saying that, he took the lead and walked deeper into the corridor. No. 23 should be in the innermost room.
11, 12... walking past the blood-red numbers one after another
"What's your name, kid!"
"My name is Charlotte..."
Charlotte, such a familiar name. I seem to have seen it somewhere just now. Hey, what is my name? Have you lost your memory?
When we reached the end of the corridor, the number 23 was clearly displayed above the door.
It's so strange, why is there no room No. 24 opposite No. 23, even though the room layout is symmetrical on both sides?
"Charlotte, do you know what my name is?" He still couldn't remember his name.
"You, why have you forgotten your own name?"
Charlotte pushed open the door, then turned around and hugged him with a happy face, buried her head on his belly, and rubbed her face affectionately.
How could such a cute girl's body be so cold? This touchless, phantom-like embrace actually made him so cold that his own consciousness was almost frozen.
"You..." The girl raised her head and showed an innocent smile, then continued the previous sentence: "The name is Sherlock, and he is my favorite doll. Now it's time for you to sleep with me."
His eyes slowly turned around, and he saw the dreamy little bed in the room, and a rag doll exactly like him placed on it.
Is my name Sherlock? Charlotte's rag doll?
I am Charlotte’s rag doll…
I'm Charlotte's rag doll!
Sherlock felt that his consciousness was slowly fading away. After all, a rag doll didn't need any consciousness, it just needed to always listen to its owner.
But why did he feel so scared? He had experienced this feeling before.
When was it? I can’t remember.
He only knew that he was afraid at the time, afraid that he would never hear the teacher's voice again, never eat fried pancakes on the 11th again, never laugh or cry again, never again take risks or squander, never again be able to
Go and witness all the wonders and beauty in the world.
Yes, he had so many things, how could he be a rag doll?
He is the first child adopted by the teacher, the owner of No. 11, Sister Tang’s most loyal younger brother, and the companion of Muliuxi, Aigao, Buyi... these people have had adventures together!
…
He remembered, he was Sherlock!
"I'm sorry, little Lolita, I won't play house with you anymore!" Sherlock looked at the pretty face that became crazily distorted because his beloved thing was taken away, and still responded with the kindest attitude.
smile.
"ah……"
As a deafening cry rang out from the girl's mouth, the surrounding scenery quickly dissipated until it turned into nothingness.
Sherlock's consciousness suddenly dropped, and when he opened his eyes again, he was back in his own room. He still maintained the posture when reading the diary, and even his right hand was about to turn the page.
The patter of rain continued to fall, the lights were burning brightly, and Karen was lying on the bed, looking at him with a sneer on her face.
"Is this the real world?"
Hearing this unexpected question, Karen's teasing mood was instantly extinguished, and then she gradually became more serious than ever before.
"no!"
It's not that there is only one word in Common Language, and this word has only one syllable. But in this short syllable, which lasted not even a tenth of a second, Sherlock heard many flavors.
There was a sense of loss, envy, longing, sadness, and helplessness. He seemed to have heard this tone before from the crazy girl he met in the novice village and his demon puppet.
But before he could savor it carefully, Karen returned to his arrogant posture and said: "Where else could it be? I haven't woken up from the dream yet!"
"Did I really just dream?" Sherlock's attention returned to the original question.
He has seen the player log, and the record above shows that it is a spell called Soul Mist, which has the same mechanism of action as his Mind Dream Building spell.
The difference is that even if the Soul Dreaming Technique is not resisted, it will not be really harmed, but this is obviously not the case with the Soul Mist. Karen's next words also indirectly confirmed his guess,
"It's almost the same, except that if you can't escape from this dream, your ending will be the same as in the dream."
This is not alarmist. If he is an NPC in the game and the final spell judgment fails, his self-awareness may really be wiped out and his soul will be imprisoned in that rag doll forever.
When I thought about it deeply, I was really shuddering. My hands shook and I threw out the diary in my hand.
The cause of this encounter was obviously related to the ghost ship they encountered during the day, because the name of the little girl recorded in this diary who was looking for dolls everywhere was Charlotte.
If those ghosts had really boarded their Mist Walker, then he was probably not the only one who encountered this scenario.
Sherlock bent down and picked up the diary, and was about to go out to gather the people on the ship.
When his hand grasped the doorknob as in the dream, an inexplicable fear filled the air again, what if...
All this is a dream!
"Karen, do you think I am a weak person?" This was the first time he really asked himself.
From birth, whether he is an orphan, a poor person or a professional player, he has always been in a disadvantaged position.
On the surface, he accepted this situation calmly, but in his heart he never let go of his obsession with being strong, so he left the teacher who raised him, Sister Tang who led him into the industry, and even left the Third Ring Road.
Physical strength cannot satisfy him, and spiritually he is also unwilling to be cowardly, so he attempts to prove his courage and strength by facing death.
Just proving that he is not afraid of death in a game where he knows he will not die is an impossible proposition. When he met Nick before and Charlotte this time, his performance also proved that he was afraid.
Death, and I was scared to death.
A fool doesn't know that he is a fool, so he is very happy, but now he is like a fool who knows that he is a fool. This feeling is very uncomfortable, and he cannot bear it alone.
The black cat turned its head and looked over with its deep amber eyes.
