Chapter 142 Green mountains block the road of mortals
(The original chapter was deleted due to operation error, and now it is reissued as a free chapter. By the way, please kindly ask some kindhearted people to come back and build the barrage_(:_』∠)_)
In the winter of 1963, it was snowing heavily in Leningrad.
Whenever the cold winter reigns over this white land again, in the vast white world, only the thick black color of the factory chimneys not far away cuts through the sky, looking into the distance in the wind and snow.
As the door of the bus opened, Kondelmir Kanukov was wrapped in a heavy woolen coat and his felt hat was covered with snowflakes. He came to an old building and pushed open the door made of fir trees.
, lift the heavy curtain, the snowflakes melt into water and unknowingly wet the brim of the hat.
There are many historic buildings like this in Leningrad, but most of them have been properly repaired and maintained. Only the sanatorium in front of us still maintains its old appearance. Even the bullet holes in the outer wall have not been repaired.
good.
It was a testimony to the tragic history that had been staged in the city below us decades ago. The German army besieged the city for 872 days. The Soviets survived, but 640,000 people died of hunger and cold.
More than 20,000 people died in German air raids and fighting.
This building on Nevsky Prospekt was also used as the ward center of the Leningrad Hospital during that period of history. It was not until the smoke completely dissipated that it was transformed into the current nursing home for veterans.
"Davarish, I'm here to see Dr. Leonid Rodtsov."
The waitress at the front desk didn't seem to have a good hearing. Kangjiemir spoke twice before picking up the phone at the front desk and confirming the visitor's information with the person opposite.
"In the second office on the third floor in front, bring this guest list."
After saying this vaguely, the short-haired waitress fell into silence for a long time, looking at the dark stairs leading to the second floor at the end of the corridor.
Nowadays, this building coexists the luxury of the Tsarist Russia period and the current dilapidation, which makes Kanjimir suddenly have some exaggerated hallucinations. It seems that many old ladies shaking feather fans and holding up the hems of gauze skirts may come out of the building at any time.
As they walked down the stairs, the heavy foundation could not cover the signs of aging, and the ruts of the times rolled over them mercilessly.
"Please come in."
Dr. Rodtsov was much younger than Kandelmir expected, so he hesitated for a few seconds after knocking on the door before saying hello to the doctor in front of him.
Dr. Rodtsov did not raise his head, but took out a medical record card from the drawer and confirmed the other party's identity again in a long tone.
"Are you - Kondemiel Kanukov, the grandson of Comrade Kardy Kanukov, Soviet combat hero and recipient of the Order of the Patriotic War? We have some relics of the old man to be handed over to you."
Kangjiemir took off his woolen coat and put it on the crook of his hand, and slowly sat in the chair opposite the doctor - under the sharp gaze of the other party, he always felt that the doctor in front of him was examining and diagnosing him.
"Doctor, my name is Kondemiel Kanukov. I came here after receiving your call this morning. I wonder what makes you so nervous?"
Conjemir looked at the other party in confusion, staring at the Red Banner of Labor medal on the chest of the white robe.
"Besides, my grandfather has passed away many years ago, and I have never received a notice. Maybe you can consider taking care of it on your own..."
But Dr. Rodtsov didn't listen.
This doctor, who is about to enter middle age, has a face as sharp as marble cutting, and his eyes are shining with sparks of will and quality. With just one glance, Conjemir can tell that this doctor has never been like other people in the city.
, eroded by alcohol and tobacco.
A black box was moved out from under the table. The numerous seal marks were obvious, and the box was covered with wear and scratches.
"Maybe I can answer your doubts. Due to his special status, all the relics of the old man after his death had to be reviewed by the Internal Affairs Committee. Later, the security function was taken over by the Security Committee, and the two sides had, um, some disputes over the transfer...
"
Some of what the doctor said slowly was enough to make Conjemir shudder.
The rm committee of the internal affairs is generally called the internal affairs department, and the safety committee is also called the kgb. I believe that no one here wants to have anything to do with these two departments.
"Doctor Rodtsov, I think it's better for you to keep the contents here..."
Kandelmir is still trying to convince the other party to accept his point of view. After all, he is just an ordinary college student at Leningrad State University. While majoring in economics, he is trying to study history and occasionally studies the history of some Far Eastern countries.
The black box was placed on the table, and Dr. Rodtsov also sat back and said in a calm tone: "Don't think too much, the contents inside have been thoroughly reviewed - now it is more
The minds and eyes of most people on this street are much safer."
As the box opened, sheets of yellowed manuscript paper were revealed. The ink color on them did not fade over time, but was so shiny that it was eye-catching.
"In the final analysis, these are just the wild thoughts of some old people in their twilight years, and the recorded things have no meaning. If I could have arrived at this sanatorium a few years earlier, I would have definitely suggested that Mr. Cardi undergo a mental evaluation to avoid his long
Hallucinations and delusions that may occur during the convalescing life.”
Kangjiemir took a piece of manuscript paper doubtfully and examined the familiar and unfamiliar handwriting on it. In the last few years of his grandfather's life, the only contact he had with his family was through letters.
This piece of paper contains a story with no beginning or end written in slightly scrawled handwriting. It seems to describe a fierce battle. The white bandits surrounded the troops from all directions, while the heroic political commissar led his men to ambush in the Gobi, waiting with bated breath.
With the scarlet moonlight shining on the desert, that will be the moment when the counterattack comes.
Dr. Rodtsov said from a professional perspective: "I guess Mr. Cardi wanted to write an autobiography, but the severe mental hallucinations have affected his memory, so that there are many records in it that deviate from reality."
This chapter is not over yet, please click on the next page to continue reading! Kangjimier picked up another piece of manuscript paper, which was blacked out for a long time, and some scrawled messages were added in small characters.
What is very strange is that sometimes the text above is not in Russian, but in a language that seems to be Tibetan.
"You may not know that your grandfather was once a political commissar of the secret operations department. Although these operational information has passed the confidentiality period, it will be censored and sealed for various reasons. Therefore, even if these manuscripts are just nonsense, they are not
It may be published as a memoir and can only be left to the family as an emotional sustenance."
Dr. Rodtsov seemed to be trying to persuade the young man in front of him to take away these materials, so he continued, "The old man once said before his death that he hoped to give these story manuscripts to his family, and the director of the sanatorium always remembered him.
will."
Seeing the wind and snow outside the window getting more and more violent, it was definitely not a good choice to leave at this time.
Kangjimeier fell silent, staring at the manuscript in front of him carefully and lost in thought. There was a brief silence in the doctor's office.
"Doctor, what is this collection number 3394?"
Kangjimeier read the manuscript carefully and suddenly pointed to the place where the signature was written and said.
Dr. Rodtsov took the manuscript, glanced sideways at the quiet phone next to him, and whispered: "What your grandfather was talking about should be the skull specimen of the 'Black Monk', which is now secretly preserved in a Peter the Great palace in Leningrad."
In the building. Your grandfather made many requests to inspect the collection before his death, but the Ministry of Internal Affairs rejected all his requests."
Kangjimeier continued to read along this manuscript. He had read records in Eastern literature. In 1912, at the junction of Mongolia and Russia, a bandit known as the "Black Monk" suddenly appeared. He led hundreds of herdsmen without invitation.
Since then, he has occupied the mountains in the Black Gobi and became the king.
In August 1912, the Black Monk survived after launching the famous siege of Khovd City. It is said that after the fierce fighting, the Black Monk took out a handful of deformed warheads from his clothes, and there were also a total of 10 warheads on his coat.
There were 28 bullet holes, but he was unscathed.
The strange thing is that in 1924, this famous figure suddenly disappeared. No one can tell his whereabouts. His large number of people and the huge wealth he accumulated also disappeared.
According to Grandpa Cardi's records, the disappearance of this mysterious "black monk" was directly related to him.
The manuscript states that in 1924, the mongo military police and the Soviet Union formed an expeditionary force, in which the Soviet war hero Kaldi Kanukov served as the instructor of the special operations team, and agent Nanzdebar served as the main executor.
Interior Minister Baldandorji personally led 100 elite soldiers to carry out the cross-border assassination mission.
Along the way, the operating troops encountered an unprecedented black storm, and the livestock they carried became manic and irritable to varying degrees. Ominous phantoms were often seen wandering around, as if the black Gobi land was resisting these outsiders.
.
All kinds of difficulties and obstacles on the road caused panic in the operating troops. Baldandorji, Minister of Interior of Mongolia, told them the stories spread here more than once.
The locals respectfully refer to elders and eminent monks as "monks". In fact, the "black monk" Tenbi Gyaltsen has never studied Tantric Buddhism at all, and he is not an elder or eminent monk.
In the spring of 1912, Burdukov, a businessman from Bayit Banner, confirmed that the black monk had told him that he did not have any occult skills. What he relied on was that he had been to many places, especially in the Yamen of Yonghe Temple.
Worked for one of the six great monks.
This statement has been confirmed in many aspects. Therefore, even though Denbi Gyaltsen was honored as Hutuktu by the local leader Jeb Zumba, the people still called him the "black monk", and the black monk was a fake monk.
mean.
It is known that he often kills everyone except the mongo people, and even hunts down Soviet soldiers stranded in the Gobi - it is often said that this is the source of his magic power.
At this point, Kaldi's records suddenly became extremely rich and detailed.
In view of the sleepiness and nervousness of the personnel and the attacks by bandits along the way, they decided to abandon their previous attack plan and disguise themselves as specially sent envoys, while a large force lurked outside the fortress on standby.
Agent Nanzdebal and two agents disguised as monks arrived at Bunker Mountain first. They told the sentry that they came from the Deribu monks in Cullen and wanted to meet with the Danbi monks. They also said that the Cullen government needed his cooperation and asked him to serve.
Minister Plenipotentiary.
In this way, they successfully entered the fortress, and the black monk came out to meet them, but the bodyguards stayed around all day long. It was obvious that the black monk did not believe these people, and while dealing with the black monk, another bold plan began to be implemented.
Nanzdebal did not get up for two days in a row and seemed to be dying. He asked for Hutuktu's blessing before he died. After receiving the request from Kulun's guest, the battle-experienced black monk actually relaxed his guard and came alone.
In the guest room, he leaned over and touched the top of the dying "patient". At this moment, Nanzdebal took the opportunity to attack the black monk, then held the black monk's head and shouted to the black monk's subordinates that he was dead.
As the siege outside the castle began, the Black Monk's men finally chose to surrender. In order to prevent the Black Monk from reincarnating, they took Tenbi Gyaltsen's head back to the Soviet Union and kept it in an anthropology museum with the number 3394.
……………
"Before your grandfather passed away, he kept telling this story to the medical staff over and over again."
Dr. Rodtsov seemed to have judged something from his expression, and suddenly said, "But as he went on, he added many horrifying details to his description. For example, Agent Nanzdebar's visit to Stalingrad in 1938
I once told him that when my knife penetrated the opponent's abdomen, many wriggling tentacles flowed out along with the blood, and the black monk's face became hideous and terrifying, with a lot of black water flowing from his mouth."
This chapter is not finished yet, please click the next page to continue reading the exciting content! "Agent Nanzdebar was afraid that he would attract the guards, so he immediately cut his trachea and continued to stab the tentacles trying to wrap around him with a knife. He heard
The noise like a bellows in the black monk's chest lasted for a long time. Someone outside the door killed the agent guarding the door and broke in, but they all fell to their knees."
Kangjimeier listened to this story with dumbfounded eyes, and sure enough, he found traces of additions to these stories from the scrawled writing on the manuscript paper that had been scrawled and deleted.
These handwritings seem to be a helpless mess, with words here and there. If you don't know the outline of the story in advance, you will never be able to piece together effective information from it.
"Doctor, do you think this story is true?"
Dr. Rodtsov tapped the paper with his pen.
"If it were me, I would think it was a nervous hallucination and some kind of special intestinal parasite. But these are not important, because the subsequent story is completely absurd, which is enough to prove that this is the old man's mental hallucination - what he said
Agent Nanzdebar, who had been executed as early as 1936 during the purge movement, would never have appeared in Stalingrad in 1938."
But Kangjimeier raised a new question: "But doctor, there is something I can't figure out. Why is my grandfather's memory about the agents confused?"
After the words fell, Dr. Rodtsov also frowned deeply and rubbed the center of his eyebrows.
"This may have some religious factors. It is common for humans to be affected by certain mysterious atmospheres of witchcraft. As a monk with extraordinary magical power, it has always been believed that physical death is not the end of life, so there must be other
The end of the way.”
Congemir murmured to himself, rubbing the manuscript paper unconsciously with his hands: "The death of the physical body is not the end of life. In eternity, even death will be annihilated..."
"Davarish, what are you talking about?"
Dr. Rodtsov waved his hand in front of his eyes and said to himself, "About this, according to Mr. Kaldi, Nanzdebar once told him that the Black Monk's men rushed into the room at that time, cold and cold.
The muzzle of the knife was already pressed against his head, but only one of the black monk's attendants picked up the knife and stabbed it into the black monk's chest full of tattoos in full view of the public - he looked like he couldn't wait to take out something, it was simply
Terrified the battle-hardened agent Nanzdebar.”
"The mongo people in the room turned a blind eye, and then suddenly recited strange chants, and long sighs buzzed in the small room, making people feel trance-like. Nanzdebal seemed to see the mutilated body of the black monk
He sat up again, leaned over and appeared in the crowd's shadow, his mouth with four smashed teeth open, and he also chanted sutras together piously and evilly."
"According to Nanzdebal's description, under the influence of some obscure influence in the air, he suddenly realized the source of everything. He began to struggle desperately, and seemed to have knocked something to the ground, and his ears were full of
Noisy shouts, noises, gunshots, his hands waving around, trying to grab everything within reach - until everything fell silent, only the blood stains all over the room and the stunned crowd..."
"Your grandfather also mentioned that after that, Nanzdebal, who suffered some kind of mental trauma, often talked to himself, faced the direction next door and fell into deep thought, and even disappeared from the house for two days inexplicably before leaving on his own.
came back - these later became evidence that he was engaged in secret assassinations during the counter-revolutionary movement."
Kangjimir suddenly stood up, clenching his fists inexplicably, and looked at the doctor with piercing eyes: "I know, according to the local legend of reincarnation, a guy like that who is called Hutuktu,
They all enjoy special authority!”
Rodtsov signaled the other party to calm down, and after the two sat back in their seats, they continued to face the confrontation.
"I thought that a college student like you would not be fooled by these supernatural and illogical remarks. But in this case, you should be able to understand why the people of the Security Committee have been reviewing it for so many years, right?"
Kanjimir was speechless for a moment.
He just unconsciously put himself into that environment and came to a seemingly "most reasonable" conclusion. However, all of this seemed to be attributed to the fanatical and irrational religious atmosphere of the group and the absurd associations it produced.
.
"Sorry doctor, I'm just a little curious. So what grandpa wrote can no longer be verified. The only thing left is this skull numbered 3394."
Kangjimir felt a little stuffy in his chest due to the heat in the room, and there was also a vague strange smell wafting from the radiator. This made him always want to open the window at all costs and let the cold wave coming from Siberia give him some clarity.
Rodtsov said: "You don't need to think too much, everything you can think of has been investigated. Just a few years before your grandfather died, the geologist Professor Obruchev also visited him for his autobiography.
I passed him and wanted to find out some details."
"Oh! Is that the famous professor?!"
"As you know, the famous Professor Vladimir Afanasyevich Obruchev."
"Oh? Does he believe what his grandfather said?"
"In fact, he didn't believe it at all. Professor Obruchev was also conducting archaeological excavations near the Black Gobi during that time in 1924. When he heard the news that the Black Monks had been annihilated, he rushed to the bunker as soon as possible. Therefore, it was also
One of the witnesses of the incident - I just missed your grandfather and failed to meet him."
Dr. Rodtsov spoke slowly, and took out a hard-covered book from the bookshelf, with "The Desert of Central Asia" written in gilded letters on it.
"This is the book that the professor gave as a gift after his visit. But the history he recorded is completely opposite to the whole story."
Opening the book, in the book "Deserts of Central Asia", another ending of the Black Monk is written:
This chapter is not finished yet, please click the next page to continue reading the exciting content! [The protagonist returned to Tacheng from the archaeological work of Ejina Black City and happened to pass by the liberated Black Gobi. He made a special trip to visit the fortress of Mazong Mountain because he left
At that time, the black monks asked them to buy some grain for themselves in the agricultural area of the Ejina River, and the grain was carried on the backs of camels.]
[The Black Monk once asked him for a book to relieve his boredom, and he also found this book among the cultural relics in the Black City.]
[Knocking on the door of the fortress, an old man told them: Not long ago, the black monks robbed a caravan and got a large sum of money. They dismissed the tribe and took four friends to the Lama Temple to rescue their relatives. The camels at home
, sheep, and goats are all left by the black monk. Apparently he thinks that the black monk will have to return to the Black Gobi sooner or later and continue to be a hero in the forest.】
[The protagonist listened to what the old man said, left the food, stayed for one night, and left early the next morning. The story of Black Gobi came to an end.]
"Doctor, is there something wrong with this story? There should be no doubt that the black monk was killed by my grandfather's team, right?"
Kangjimeier said in confusion.
Dr. Rodtsov was silent for a while, slowly closed the book of memories, and said with the same puzzlement: "Originally, specimen No. 3394 has explained everything, but Professor Obruchev is very sure that the Black Monk
He is not dead, and there is absolutely no cause and effect of the Black Monk's death in his memoirs. He asked around to find your grandfather, just to find clues from the witnesses who are still alive - or to expose the lies of some deceivers."
"When leaving the sanatorium, Professor Obruchev angrily called your grandfather a liar, and he would write a letter to report it to the Supreme Council. But your grandfather was angry and silent, and his heart rate once soared to three times that of a normal person, almost to the point of
Enter the rescue room. From that day on, your grandfather began to write down his memories repeatedly, as if he wanted to find gold in the sandcastle that was on the verge of collapse in front of the waves."
"I also discussed this matter with Professor Obruchev when he visited again - of course without telling your grandfather - the professor happily told me that he had found someone to return to the Black Gobi.
The residents there told him that the black monk actually asked his adjutant to pretend to be him when he was assassinated that day, and he escaped on a fast horse, and then lived a nomadic life in the southern foothills of the Tianshan Mountains. There was also an old herdsman from Mazong Mountain, Bianba, who also said that in
During the 1950s, there was an old homeless man who was begging for food everywhere. Everyone said he was the black monk..."
"Oh, by the way, the actions of the Black Monk's men who cut off the face and dug out the heart made Professor Obruchev even more convinced that this was a coincidence and a lie for the sake of fame and fortune..."
Hearing this, Kangjimir finally couldn't help but stand up and said to the doctor angrily: "No wonder my grandfather has been thinking about the collection of black monk skull specimens numbered 3394! Because that is the only thing that can prove his merits and honors!
He is a fighting hero and should not be slandered like this before he dies!"
Dr. Rodtsov spread his hands helplessly and looked at the phone at hand again, as if expecting and wary of a call that shouldn't come.
"You have to know that Professor Obruchev is an academician of the Soviet Academy of Sciences and the honorary president of the Soviet Geographical Society. He has been awarded the Order of Lenin five times and provided the committee with a number of precious cultural relics, including a collection of cultural relics from the Black City of Ejina.
Stuff. He was pretty sure the Black Monk had been there too and taken something - so the National Commission had to continue the search, which lasted ten years."
The gilded books on the table were extremely heavy, like a boulder pressing on Kangjiemir's chest. He wanted to ask, but when he opened his mouth, he could not speak.
Rodtsov's resolute face looked calm: "I believe in your grandfather, and I also believe that he killed the 'Black Monk' who was omnipotent in the eyes of the locals. But such a serious historical deviation is enough for everyone to be vigilant.
Be careful of things that shouldn’t be mixed in.”
"But...but..."
Conjemir also wanted to say something else.
"I'm sorry, I'm too nervous today. Even two years ago, I had never been so nervous when I performed appendix surgery on myself during the Antarctic scientific expedition team."
Perhaps in order to lighten the atmosphere, Dr. Rodtsov exhaled and said to Conjemir with a hint of joking, "You have to know that Antarctic scientific expeditions are not a pleasant memory. The explorers that have been swallowed there are...
There are enough to build a human ladder out of hell..."
The smell of the heating in the room became more and more obvious, and there was the sound of rattling carts passing by in the corridor outside the door, which reminded Kanjimir of the cold mortuary corpse truck--during the most tragic days of the Leningrad war, this
The ancient building has never stopped hearing such sounds.
There was a faint smell of antiseptic potion in the air, and some kind of fear was clenching his heart. Even though the wind and snow in Leningrad outside the window became more violent and swept in, covering the sky and the sun, Kangjimir was incomparable.
I strongly want to leave here.
He seemed to have spent only five minutes here, and it seemed as if he had spent an entire day and night.
"Doctor, if nothing is wrong... I have to leave first."
Kangjiemir looked at his watch nervously, packed up the woolen coat in his hand, decided to leave, and his eyes fell on the coat rack by the door.
Dr. Rodtsov didn't mean to stop him. He put the manuscript into a black box and sealed it. He sighed slowly and said, "Be careful on the road. Students like you are the future of the Soviet Union. When I see you today, let me
Thinking of my relatives on the island..."
Kandelmir asked in confusion: "Do you live on Kronstadt Island?"
This small island is at the eastern end of the Gulf of Finland, only 29 kilometers east of Leningrad. It has been built as an important port fortress and satellite city. "Isn't that a place for the fleet?"
Dr. Rodtsov shook his head: "No, they are on a farther island. I haven't been back home for many years."
Kondelmir fell silent in confusion, because he found that Dr. Rodtsov had opened the box that had been sealed just now, and was about to put another brown envelope with the wax seal opened.
"Doctor, what is that in your hand?"
"A souvenir. In addition to handing over cultural relics, Professor Obruchev also gave me a small oriental gift. I plan to give it to you as a small effort to resolve the conflict between your two families. He happened to tell me what was inside
story."
Dr. Rodtsov opened the envelope and revealed a very finely printed photo. Through the hazy black and white tones, you can also tell that there is a strange oriental statue on it. The Buddha from ancient India has two bodies in one body, but with a head on his head.
The two heads sharing a neck looked at each other silently, their lips tightly closed into a line, and their gestures seemed quiet and profound.
"This is an ancient statue. Legend has it that this is the peculiar appearance that Buddha Sakyamuni showed when he came to Sarnath to explain Buddhism to the five followers sent by the king's father after his enlightenment and was transformed into a monk for the first time."
"Five followers asked the Buddha what the world would be like after enlightenment. The Buddha told the five people that when he was enlightened, he really opened his eyes and took a look into the depths of infinite darkness. But it was like this, half-seeing but not seeing.
, the chaotic abyss of the entire universe has already submerged him. At first glance, he was dead, but at second glance, he came back to life, standing here to teach them the Dharma."
"In order to persuade five monks to become monks, the Buddha revealed his twin heads for the first time. One side turned into crystal clear white bones, symbolizing the clean soul, and the other side showed the tragic appearance of a caesarean section, symbolizing that he could be healed at any time.
Abandoned body.”
"The five followers went crazy on the spot and recovered immediately. The Buddha took out an extremely precious orb from his belly, threw it into the air, and said to the five monks who were the only ones in the world..."
"Remember, this is a treasure that all monks must live up to in the past, present and future."
"Monk Treasure..."
Kangjimeier looked at the doctor in a daze, and a strange oriental word came out of his mouth. He seemed to hear the implication of the doctor's words, so he stood at the door holding the box, thinking about continuing to ask some questions, but also hesitatingly thinking
Leave immediately.
"The treasure that everyone wants must be something very precious..."
Kangjimir finally asked.
Dr. Rodtsov showed a mysterious smile and took out another photo.
"The treasure has disappeared. Professor Obruchev found an opened stone box in the Black City of Ejina, which was supposed to contain the treasure left by the Buddha. But the complicated history is as insignificant as the yellow sand in the sky.
He could only follow the traces one by one. It might be the black monks, it might be the Mongols, it might be the Uighurs, or it might be the Chinese who have radiated there through the ages."
Dr. Rodtsov took off his white coat and put on casual clothes that seemed to be prepared for off work. "In the Black City of Ejina, Professor Obruchev found a deliberately left name. He suspected that the other party was from the 18th century.
The ruler of this land at the beginning was Amursana, or someone of his contemporaries."
"What's interesting is that this stone box was not supposed to exist here originally. The other party deliberately put the stone box into this ancient city just to tell the treasure hunters that the treasure had been lost long ago and there was no hope of finding it again.
"
Kangjimeier asked in confusion: "Who is the other party? Why did he do this?"
Rodtsov shook his head and placed the photo in front of him.
"Even if all this makes no sense at all, this stone box is consistent with the chemical dating of the inscriptions in the Black City. What is left on it is not the Arabic letters on the Silk Road, nor the Slavs text of the early Tsarist Russian expedition, but a string of sharp objects carved on it.
Weird Latin letters.”
"Professor Obruchev has studied it for a long time and can only guess that this is a personal name. There is no other meaning or clue."
Kangjimeier looked at the old and dim photo. With his English foundation in economics studies, he quickly identified the strange string of characters. They were the copperplate fonts that were supposed to be in vogue in Europe in the mid-eighteenth century.
——tyrael.
Kangjiemir was still speechless. He stared at the photo with his eyes blankly, and clenched his fists unconsciously. A kind of pain that alternated between confusion and suddenness overwhelmed him, giving him the illusion of suffocation.
The answer seemed to be right in front of him, but he couldn't figure it out no matter what.
Rodtsov sat in his seat and seemed to have thought for a long time before speaking softly.
"Besides, those involved in this trivial conflict may have missed the point."
"The point?"
"Yes, that's the point."
Rodtsov nodded heavily and placed his fingers heavily on the footer of the manuscript paper just now.
"Have you ever thought carefully about the fact that compared to the tactical goal of killing a specific person, your grandfather, as a soldier, has actually accomplished the strategic goal - the Black Monk, whether he is dead or alive, in these decades
It never caused any waves again.”
Kangjiemir's confused eyes finally showed some understanding, and he said hesitantly.
"So that's it? Does everyone actually know it?"
"That's how it should be."
Rodtsov continued: "The reason why it caused another stir is just because this 'ghost' who has been dead for decades has caused some minor disturbing phenomena and attracted everyone's attention. If you think about it carefully,
The Black Monk's head was made into a specimen, and such high-level treatment was really just to prevent his 'reincarnation'?"
Rodtsov continued pointedly, "You must know that throughout the 1920s, the Soviet Union only permanently preserved the remains of two people. One was the head of the Black Monk, and the other..."
The doctor suddenly stopped talking.
But his and Kangjiemir's sights both appeared ripples, and finally slowly and carefully landed on the portrait high on the side wall of the room, their lips pursed so tightly that there was no trace of blood.
This chapter is not over yet, please click on the next page to continue reading the exciting content! "You have to know that this is absolutely impossible! No matter in every sense!"
Kangjiemir gritted his teeth and said with a weak but firm voice, "Not only is this absolutely impossible, but this possibility is also not allowed to happen!"
Rodtsov spread his hand again and looked at the unusually quiet phone on the table - there was still nothing strange.
"God is dead. Tell me, who will allow it now? Who will carry it? Who will decide whether it exists or not?"
Dr. Rodtsov's expression became more and more mysterious, and the clicking sound of the clock in the room continued one after another, as if it was going faster and faster, and was about to overturn the boat carrying them in time, and quickly fall into the chaotic and disorderly ocean bottom.
The vague fear of ghosts became more and more prominent in Kangjimir's mind, and a series of indescribable and terrifying questions emerged in his mind.
From an artistic point of view, if the spiritual body projected by the human mind is grotesquely distorted, then how can we use a clear narrative to express - or describe - this kind of distortion created by malevolence and chaos?
What about the ghosts that swell like malevolent clouds?
It is a natural pathology in itself.
Going a step further, if a dead, nightmarish hybrid monster uses its brain to project its spirit body, wouldn't that cloud-like terror be indescribable and make people scream?
"In this era of rapid change, try not to be surprised by anything. The Earth Telescope Project has been secretly launched, and experiments in space have also discovered the same flipping phenomenon. You have to know that this means that everything is changing..."
Finally, at this time, the phone suddenly rang, making the whole world shake with such noise. The bakelite phone collided with the desktop files and the old black box, making people's scalp numb instantly.
The doctor answered the phone with a calm tone.
"it's me……"
"There are still guests now..."
"Okay...come here..."
Kangjimir suddenly woke up. He no longer cared about carrying the mysterious black wooden box in front of him. He quickly put on his coat and hat, determined to rush out of this ancient and terrifying Byzantine building at all costs.
However, he accidentally kicked his boot on the black wooden box, and the bright ink on the flying manuscript paper blocked his sight. Kangjiemir's head hit the door frame hard first, and then a smell of blood filled his nose and mouth, and he could only
He squatted against the wall dizzily.
The heavy wooden door suddenly opened, and a strong smell of antiseptic liquid floated into the room. The sudden encounter between the indoor heater and the cold wind in the corridor made Kondemiel Kanukov's glasses full of water mist, making it blurry.
In his extremely confused vision, Kandelmir saw Dr. Rodtsov turning around in the distance, smiling and waving, and said in a low and hoarse voice.