The scary clown with a disfigured face was standing behind him, but the player was completely unaware of it and was still staring at the huge monster on the top of the building.
It seemed that only Han Fei could hear what the clown said. His voice sounded directly in Han Fei's heart, and he seemed to know all his inner thoughts.
Fear hit Han Fei like a huge wave. Without any hesitation, he shouted to the last player in the team: "Run! The ghost is behind you!"
At the same time that his throat made a sound, Han Fei's body had already rushed towards the player. All of this was done subconsciously. In such a dangerous situation, he did not consider his own safety and took action very decisively.
"Very good, you made the first choice." The clown's open mouth approached the player, and his teeth filled with various curse words bit into the player's soft neck: "You wanted to save him, but he died because of you.
die."
Until this moment, the player at the back of the team still didn't feel any pain. He was startled by Han Fei's sudden shout, but he turned around and saw nothing, and even said something crazy to Han Fei.
But just when he was about to say the second sentence, streaks of black blood appeared on his neck where he was bitten by the clown. Those blood streaks gradually expanded and soon turned into thick black blood vessels!
Severe pain was felt, and the player turned his head for the second time, and he saw the clown's head on his neck.
Screams sounded, but it was too late. Ordinary people seemed to only see them at the moment of their own death and when the ghosts started killing people.
For that player, no matter what the reason is for him to see the "ghost", his ending is already doomed.
After biting it lightly, the corners of the disfigured clown's mouth rose, and he pushed the player to the ground.
"Ghost! There is a ghost! The ghost is behind us!" The fake white mask shattered into pieces, and the player covered his neck, like an insect with only half of his body left on the ground, twisting and struggling desperately, but this was just
aggravated his pain.
All the players looked towards the entrance of the stairs, but they did not see the existence of the "ghost". They only saw their partners struggling and shouting crazily on the ground.
"Shorthair, what's wrong with you?" The bald prisoner came towards here.
"Don't go there! The ghost killed him! The ghost is right there!" Han Fei stared at the clown among the countless balloons with human heads. Among all the game participants, he seemed to be the only one who could see the ghost!
As early as when he was rushing to the Perfect Life B&B, he felt his arm being grabbed on the way. Looking out of the corner of his eye, he saw a pale arm. At that time, he felt a little strange, why could he see ghosts?
"Because when the ghost wants you to see it, you can see it." The clown's voice sounded in Han Fei's heart again: "You must have forgotten the deal between us, but it doesn't matter, I believe you will still make that choice.
Because you will always be you."
The balloons were flying, as if human heads were trying to escape from the clown. Among the gaps in the balloons, the clown's face was completely exposed.
"Compared with them, I am still most optimistic about you, so I will place my hope on you."
Wild laughter rang out, the clown's body was stretched, and he acted extremely weird, but no one except Han Fei could see him.
"Being blessed with good luck, eyes that can see ghosts, a chance to return to the soul, and the talents you gained from his memory are still there, which means that he is also optimistic about you. I seem to already know his wish, which is to be loved by you.
Kill it with your own hands." The clown laughed until he was hoarse, but he still kept laughing, as if he had encountered the funniest thing in the world.
"Who is he?" Han Fei asked his first question, and he almost blurted it out, as if the answer to this question was very important to him.
"I don't know whose body he will hide in this time and whose soul he will use to kill you." The clown looked at Han Fei's arm: "You were killed by him ninety-nine times, either directly or indirectly.
This is the gap between you and him. Of course, it's possible that you did all this on purpose. But it doesn't matter now, you only have one last chance to choose."
The player on the ground lost his life in pain and torture. His death was extremely miserable, and his skin was covered with thick black blood vessels.
"If you choose good, maybe more people who don't deserve to die will die; if you choose evil, maybe many people who deserve to die will be resurrected." All the balloons around the clown flew away, and a tower appeared under his feet.
Black clock.
On the surface is a child's face, with his age written around it, and memories condensed on the hands, full of his joys, sorrows, and joys.
"Everything that happens in every second of every day is here. Life is like a countdown clock. The pendulum is full of satisfaction on one side and despair on the other. The only thing missing from the whole clock is happiness and smile."
The clown squatted on the clock and stared at Han Fei: "If you want to find your smile, you must first see your own happiness. My happiness is there. What does your happiness look like?"
The laughing clown looked like a hysterical madman. He said words that no one could understand, and he laughed until tears fell.
"Who are you talking to?" Li Guoer stood closely next to Han Fei. She felt that Han Fei was in something wrong, as if he was sleepwalking, which was very strange.
Standing there, Han Fei did not answer Li Guoer's question. His eyes moved from the clown to the clock.
The child on the dial seems to be himself, and this handmade clock seems to hint at his life.
"You seem to be helping me? Why are you doing this? Why don't I remember the transaction you mentioned before?" As long as Han Fei has a thought, the other party's voice will ring in his heart. The clown's ability is very terrifying.
Definitely not an ordinary "ghost".
"When you died for the eleventh time, you fulfilled my regret and did something that even I could not do. You saved that reward for this time. Maybe you have decided to die ninety-nine times since then.
." The clown's stomach began to hurt from laughing. It seemed that he said too many things that he shouldn't have said. His face cracked and the paint fell off, making his face even more scary: "I will help the person who succeeds in the end. I hope that person
It will be you. Before my body, which represents childhood memories, completely collapses, I can give you another gift."
The smile on his face became terrifying, and the monster with twenty-two arms seemed to be enraged and began to attack everyone around him crazily.
"Kill everyone who may be him as soon as possible. You have no chance to come back." The clown grinned. His smile could not bring warmth to others, but only made them feel despair and pain.
"You have been laughing hysterically, is it because you are afraid that once you stop laughing, your tears will flow down uncontrollably?" Han Fei had no idea why he said such words. He just told the truth in his heart
The idea was expressed.
The expression of the clown who was laughing crazily slowly changed, and the smile on his face gradually faded: "Is this what you said to yourself?"
The clock under your feet began to turn, which seemed to be a sign that the game had really begun.
The clown seemed to have completed the deal, as his body and the clock were shattered among countless balloons with human heads.
Han Fei's extreme inner uneasiness disappeared, and there were some death scenes in his heart. It seemed that he had been killed by the clown ten times.
Shaking his head, Han Fei only remembered the pain of death, but forgot other things.
It was precisely because the pain was so unforgettable that he developed severe delusions of persecution. Whenever he thought about death, he would feel uneasy and frightened.
"What's wrong with you?" Li Guoer wasn't worried about Han Fei. When she asked, Han Fei had already walked forward.
The clown and the clock were buried in the sea of flowers, as if they had never appeared, leaving only a piece of paper on the ground.
It seemed to be torn from the cover of a play, with the words of a poet written on it.
"One night I burned all my memories, and from then on my dreams became transparent."
"One morning I threw away all my yesterdays, and my steps became lighter from then on."
Looking at the other side of the shredded paper, there is Han Fei's own handwriting on it. There is no past and no future. I should see the truest version of myself? (To be continued.)
