Li Huang has been in the entertainment industry, met all kinds of people, and seen all kinds of disgusting things. She hid all her vulnerabilities deep in her heart, and then armed herself with thick armor.
.
She thought she would become stronger and tougher, but she didn't expect that in this dark abandoned hospital, there was a lazy, sexy, evil soul who could break all her protection so easily...
Looking at Han Fei's profile, rumors related to Han Fei came to Li Huang's mind.
After they actually met, she discovered that those rumors were not only not exaggerated, but rather too euphemistic.
There are no cameras installed on the third and fourth floors underground. This is a venue outside of the script. If the audience wants to see what is going on, they can only rely on the miniature camera Han Fei fixed on himself. But when something goes wrong with the oil painting,
Han Fei reached out and took off the last camera.
Only a few "lucky" people know the answer to how terrible an actor will become without the supervision of an audience.
The red paint slid down the ceiling, and the oil paintings came to life under the nourishment of blood. Some deformed children in the paintings stuck their heads out and looked at the plastic surgery hospital shrouded in darkness.
This hellish scene made Li Huang scream, and she was almost suffocated. In her opinion, no one could face such fear.
But whenever she was about to collapse, her eyes would always shift to Han Fei. Even in this situation, Han Fei was still standing in the darkness.
"Isn't he afraid of this emotion?"
Holding the corpse prop in his hand, Han Fei stopped in the middle of the corridor. Every mission to the shrine would tear his consciousness apart and reassemble it, sharpening his will like a blade.
In reality, hatred is very limited. Even Butterfly can only constantly defeat and control a person through psychological suggestion. People with strong wills like Han Fei are what Butterfly fears the most.
Because they will never be easily shaken, and their hearts will always be loyal to themselves.
At this time, although Han Fei was covered in bloody paint and immersed in hallucinations, his consciousness was still very clear.
The young man who was once hunted by perverted outsiders can now use various powers to kill the seriously injured Hate.
The knife wielded by Laughter not only extinguished the black fire in his fingers, but also shattered the fear of hatred in Han Fei's heart.
"Butterflies never kill people by themselves, what about you?"
Han Fei stared straight at the other side of the corridor. In the thick darkness, a tall and thin man walked out.
He is taciturn, dressed in painter's clothes, and carrying a small bucket filled with "red paint" in his right hand.
This is not the first time that Han Fei and the painter have met. In fact, the plastic surgery hospital has been looking for people related to Butterfly. They want to find out what happened in the dead building.
As the most mysterious person in the plastic surgery hospital, the painter knows a lot of things. He also knows that the dead building is special because that area was once the place where someone grew up.
"You have missed your only opportunity." Han Fei said rudely. Before Xu Qin became a hater, the three haters at the plastic surgery hospital could easily crush him to death, but now the situation has been reversed.
The faceless woman was about to lose her soul, Xiaobai Shoe's goodwill was controlled by Han Fei, the dead building area also had two hatreds, not counting the Mirror God, and the plastic surgery hospital no longer had the ability to destroy the dead building.
In the long corridor covered with oil paintings, Han Fei and the painters stood on both sides of the corridor, and no one was in a hurry to do anything.
Han Fei watched every move of the painter, and the painter was also looking at Han Fei silently, as if he wanted to confirm something.
After a long time, the painter raised his left hand and tore off the sleeve on his right arm.
There was a wound dug out on the pale arm, which seemed to be the number "4".
The wound has never healed, and the black blood seeping from the wound will continue to drip into the small bucket he is holding in his right hand.
"The red paint the painter used was actually his own blood?"
Han Fei remembered the curse text he had read before. He stared at the number 4 wound on the painter's right arm: "What is your relationship with Orphan No. 4? If you are friends, then maybe we shouldn't fight with each other, because he
The person I most admire and want to be is me.”
Han Fei had made a plan before quitting the game. He was going to find an opportunity to negotiate with the plastic surgery hospital's hatred in a neutral place, the department store, so he had to try his best to avoid any fights that could be avoided.
After hearing Han Fei's words, the painter's expression remained unchanged. He seemed to have lost all human emotions and integrated everything about himself into the painting.
The black blood flowing from the wound of number 4 dripped into the small bucket. The thick red "pigment" in the bucket gave off a special rancid smell. If emotions can fester, the smell must be that of various emotions rotting after death.
the taste of.
The children in the oil painting dare not approach the painter, as if his usually kind and kind father suddenly became drunk and went crazy one day, waving a kitchen knife around.
The faceless child hid around. The painter put his left hand into the small bucket. After stirring, he used his left hand to draw a window on the ground.
Beyond the window is a dark city with many tall buildings, and there are extremely terrifying things hidden in each building.
Han Fei had seen this painting once when he was rescuing Chou Scar. The oil painting seemed to be connected to another world. Once he fell into it, he could not come back.
The silent painter completed the painting, then he pressed the window he painted with one hand and pushed it inwards.
Something unimaginable happened, the painted window was pushed open!
The cold wind blew out of the painted window, the temperature dropped sharply, and all kinds of screams and monster roars seemed to ring in the ears. There was a nightmare hidden behind the window.
After the painter finished doing this, his eyes that were numb to anything looked at Han Fei, and he raised his left hand stained with "red paint".
On the fourth underground floor of the plastic surgery hospital, all the oil painting windows painted on the walls were opened, and the faceless children playing outside the windows climbed over the window sill one by one and ran out.
They lose themselves, chasing false pleasure, like a group of walking dead trapped in paradise.
There are so many oil paintings on the ground floor of the plastic surgery hospital that the painter himself probably didn’t even count how many paintings there were.
In the past, he could not do anything about the situation of those children and could only draw thirty-one windows for them. Now he can't change anything either. After returning to this abandoned place, he can only draw the scenery outside the window over and over again.
But no matter how beautiful the scenery outside the window is, the children who look at that scenery will never come back.
"Han Fei!" Li Huang reminded loudly from behind, her voice almost breaking.
Countless faceless children came to Han Fei's side. They tore at Han Fei's body and tried to drag Han Fei toward the window painted by the painter.
Looking at the faces of the children, when Han Fei came into contact with them, hysterical laughter came from deep in his brain.
This laughter is very sick and contains madness, but if you listen carefully, you can still feel an indescribable sadness.
A child with a healing personality turned into a madman who could only laugh wildly. When he grew up, he became an adult who even lost his smile.
"Is this the most successful personality? Or the most unsuccessful personality?"
Under the dual influence of wild laughter and children, Han Fei stepped closer to the black window.
The children who had lost themselves hoped that Han Fei would become just like them. The wild laughter gradually became louder, and Han Fei got closer and closer to the window.
Three meters, two meters...
Han Fei's footsteps finally stopped only a few centimeters away from the window. He and the painter stood at both ends of the window, as if they were people from two different worlds.
"If you had met me one night earlier, my will might not have been able to stop these things, and I would have been pushed into the window by them and locked in the dark."
The task of inheriting the shrine is the cruelest temper and test of will. Han Fei's consciousness and body were torn apart in Fu Sheng's shrine. He successfully recovered from the edge of his soul, and was finally reunited by the hatred and love of ten hateful people.
Together.
Breaking down and then building up again, his tenacity has exceeded the imagination of most people.
"No matter what I have encountered in the past, at least I am still alive. Since I am alive, I will change. On the road to death, I will influence my destiny. I will change the future of others just like I change the future of others in the memory world of the shrine.
Everything from now on."
His eyes were scarlet, and veins could clearly be seen on Han Fei's face. He was having a final confrontation with the painter.
The painter seemed unable to directly kill people in reality, but his strange abilities could directly affect those who could see them. At this time, Han Fei was under tremendous pressure, but it was just pressure.
Having a black box and experiencing so many things in the deep world, Han Fei can be said to be the person who least knows how to surrender.
No one could drive him crazy based on hallucinations alone. He had already experienced the most complete and heart-wrenching madness in Laughing.
The confrontation through a window lasted for a long time, until the building began to shake and the siren outside the building became clearer and louder.
The two sides were in a stalemate, and slowly, the voice of a child talking to himself came from the opened window on the ground.
After hearing the sound, the painter's numb eyes changed slightly, and he reached out to close the window on the ground.
The black oil painting slowly disappeared as the blood dried.
The painter walked past the window. He did not stop beside Han Fei, but went straight to the depths of the corridor.
He seemed unable to see Han Fei and Li Huang, and directly opened the door of the room at the far end of the corridor.
The scene in front of me was shocking. The room was astonishingly large, and the whole room was dark red, with a child's smiling face engraved on all the bricks.
Their innocent and childish smiles formed a sharp contrast with the blood-red room. Their originally cute faces now only made people feel creepy.
"Is this the real red room? Is this where the children brought by Xia Yilan complete the final deal?"
All the medical equipment in the house had been emptied, leaving only a red chair in the empty room.
The chair was placed in the center of the room, facing a black oil painting on the wall.
The oil painting is a window, and it feels as if someone had been sitting on a chair and staring at the oil painting window on the wall.
The painter waited for Han Fei to enter the house and then closed the door.
He carried the small bucket filled with his own blood to the edge of the wall and stared blankly at the window.
Unlike other oil painting windows, this oil painting seems to have been completed many years ago, and the surface has been slightly cracked.
After watching quietly for a while, the painter suddenly picked up the small bucket with both hands and poured a whole bucket of "red paint" on the black window!
The black windows were dyed red, and the blood drops slid down the windows, as if it was raining inside the house, and it was filled with blood-colored mist.
When Han Fei was wondering why the painter did this, he suddenly heard the sound of tapping on the window.
Looking at the oil painting on the black window with surprise, Han Fei discovered that as blood drops dripped, a child appeared in the oil painting window. He was also wearing a hospital gown with the number "4" written on it.
"I didn't know how to see him, so I could only draw myself in the window he painted..."
Han Fei suddenly remembered the curse words left by orphan No. 4: "The child in the window of this oil painting is child No. 4?"
The sound of knocking on the window became louder and louder. Han Fei walked forward quickly and heard what No. 4 said behind the window.
"They have been looking for such children, who were born in tragedy, grew up in despair, and lost everything due to the fool of fate. I am such a child, and they are also such children."
"The doctors here never wanted to cure us. The perfect personality is just a scam. The hospital is not a place to save people. The paradise specially prepared for children is not a place to bring happiness."
"Actually, I really envy that person. It's strange that I, who has a self-destructive personality, would actually envy him who has a healing personality?"
"But there is something even stranger. I wanted to destroy everything, but in the end I only killed myself; but he, who has a healing personality, killed all the children in the same batch except himself."
"I heard that after that bloody night, he was the only one left in the paradise. From that time on, the paradise became a place specially used to deal with hospital failures."