Rain and salty sea, the temperature at night is plummeting, and the man feels wet and cold. This is summer in the northern hemisphere. The North Atlantic warm current passes through and brings equatorial warm water, but the sailors at sea have only the bitter cold to keep them company.
The man and woman were still chattering. The sampan was moving forward slowly in the undulating waves. The bow of the boat was raised high and then fell gently. The waves of the sea gave the people on the boat a huge cradle and endless dreams.
Everything was shrouded in dense darkness, and the kerosene lamp hung from the bow of the ship was swinging constantly. Booker DeWitt stared at the kerosene lamp and also looked at a fat lighthouse with a majestic outline vaguely visible in the depths of the sea fog.
He turned his head and looked in the direction he had come from, but saw no shadow of the coast or land. Looking left and right, he didn't see any ships.
Only their sampan sailed quietly in the noisy rainy night. The destination was clearly visible, but the origin and remote paths disappeared into the depths of darkness. He was left with only one choice. Booker's heart was filled with confusion and anxiety.
.
Time passed slowly. Booker didn't know how long he had been on the boat. His hands and feet were completely numb. At this time, the thick clouds glowed faintly, and it was about to dawn.
"Excuse me! How long will it take to arrive?"
The woman in a raincoat sitting on the front partition turned around and handed over a thin wooden box. The brass nameplate on the front of the box was engraved with the following words: This item belongs to Booker DeWitt, 7th Regiment, Wounded
knee river
Mr. Booker DeWitt had no impression of this box, but it did look like an old item. He opened the lock and pulled up the lid of the box. There were two pieces of paper stuck to the inner wall of the lid.
It is a puzzle of a treasure map, and a postcard of Memorial Island in Colombia. The contents of the box are very simple, a Mauser C96 pistol, a photo of a girl named Elizabeth, a key, some coins, and printing
Card with the coordinates of New York.
"I don't understand." Booker turned the girl's photo over and read on the back: Bring her back to New York unscathed. "Who is this girl?" He picked up the kerosene lamp he brought and looked carefully at the girl in the black and white photo.
It was a profile photo, and it didn’t look like she was a straight-up photo with permission. She looked to be in her teens, wearing schoolgirl clothes and a butterfly-shaped hair tie. She had a beautiful profile and a well-proportioned figure. She seemed to have the same figure.
healthy girl.
No one answered his words. The man was complaining about his hard work, while the woman was happily arguing with him. They were enjoying themselves, and the lighthouse dock was right in front of them.
Until Booker landed in a daze, he didn't know what he was doing, and the two strange people rowed away.
The sky was dim and unclear, but the sun had indeed risen. At this time, Mr. DeWitt only felt melancholy as he stood on the old pier in the cold wind and rain.
Strangely, a strong sense of mission filled Booker's anxious and fearful heart. At this moment, he couldn't remember the purpose of his visit at all, but when he looked at the girl's photo again, he had no doubts about his mission.
Find this girl and bring her back to New York... Mr. Booker thought to himself: My wealth is enough to support such a girl. This is good, everything is perfect, as long as I get this girl.
Sometimes, a middle-aged man can also be a prince who saves the princess. Booker is a decent man, he can be polite, and he hopes that the road ahead will be open to lucky thieves like him.
Walking along the pier, he arrived at the lighthouse. The lighthouse stood on a miserable and narrow reef island. There were no unnecessary buildings here. The waves were washing away. He reluctantly held a kerosene lamp and a box, and walked slowly on the creaking island.
On the wooden board of the wharf. Under the dim light of the street lamp on the wharf, the fisherman's boat stranded on the rocky beach casts a short silent shadow on the bright stone wall.
This place didn't look like it could be a place for people to live anyway. Booker guessed that the girl named Elizabeth might be working as a keeper in the lighthouse. She didn't look like such a strong person. And the lighthouse keeper
They are often old single men, their bodies are heavy and their temperament is as depressed as the rocks. Booker climbed up the steps and looked up at the gate. The Fresnel lens on the top of the tower cast a cold white light into the miserable atmosphere.
The clouds are so thick, maybe this heavy rain will turn into a thunderstorm. The cold light beam of the lighthouse sweeps through the oppressive, dull and humid atmosphere over and over again. The land in the distance is still missing on such a sad morning. The sea fog is huge, although the sky is dark.
It kept getting brighter, but Booker felt that the sea was getting narrower and narrower, and that all sides were disappearing. The beacons floating on the sea gradually disappeared into the depths of the mist. Finally, after half an hour of thinking like this, the first thunderbolt struck in the sky.
.
Electric light flashed in the distance, and thunder rolled in. He turned around and looked around. On the folds of the waves, the white and delicate foam was dazzling by the lightning. Booker grunted and finally pushed open the door of the lighthouse. He noticed the door.
There was a bloody note attached that read, "DeWitt - give that girl to us and your debt will be wiped off. This is your last chance."
The wealthy Mr. Booker did not know who he owed money to, but there were many people who owed him money. He never used such a terrible threat - a blood-stained note - to intimidate debtors. His wealth allowed
He is generous, but it is obvious that the person who wrote this note is not as kind as him.
After entering the door, there is a sign posted on the central load-bearing pillar on the first floor of the lighthouse: I want to wash away your sins.
There is a sink and a stack of folded white towels on the table under the sign.
The trustworthy Mr. Booker hesitated to speak at such a scene. He looked around. There were barrels, cables and fishing cages stacked in the hall on the first floor. The manager of this lighthouse seemed to be a professional fisherman.
There is the sound of a record player on the second floor.
After observing carefully, he went up the iron stairs - there was also a sign hanging at the entrance of the stairs, writing: I will lead you out of Sodom (the place of sin) - to the second floor, which is the lighthouse keeper's private space.
, the bedroom, study, kitchen, and living room are all crowded here, and all the furniture is piled against the wall.
The place was messy, and it seemed that a burglary had occurred. The sensitive detective Mr. Booker sniffed the uneasy atmosphere in the air. He was wary of such a thundery and religious lighthouse, and now he was somewhat doubtful whether the administrator here was
Crazy, or that person is a cultist.
A map of the United States hangs on the wall, as well as a itinerary made of nails and red ribbons, from Arizona in the southwest to Maine in the northeast. Booker is full of inquiry about this map, and there are sticky notes nailed on the map.
: Be prepared, he is already on the way, you must stop him - C. The signer left only one letter, but the handwriting on the entire note made Booker feel familiar, at least similar to the handwriting on the back of Elizabeth's photo.
There is also a notice board at the stairway from the second floor to the third floor: I will lead you to the Promised Land.
There was a fight in the lighthouse, and maybe someone died. The overturned table was stained with blood, and there were bloody handprints on the wall of the stairs. All the way to the third floor, this was supposed to be a tool room and a drying room, but it turned into a torture room.
In the trial room, Booker noticed the large blood stains on the ground, the cracks caused by the impact on the glass, and the most conspicuous thing, the body with its head covered and tied to a chair under the light.
The deceased was a male, dressed as a worker, wearing a gray knitted sweater, olive green overalls and a pair of brown leather shoes. He should be the manager of the lighthouse. There was no doubt that he had been abused and tortured during his lifetime. The cause of death was
He was shot in the forehead and the murderer fired the gun after he was put in a bag. A bloody note was stapled to the deceased's chest: "Don't let us down."
Booker felt very cold. The murder in the lighthouse seemed to be a performance, and the audience was Mr. Booker. He felt surprised and even more uneasy. Unknown enemies were observing him in the dark, and he knew nothing about them.
You know, maybe it's a group of cultists, or maybe it's a group of human traffickers pretending to be cultists. No matter what, Booker has no intention of handing the girl over to the so-called "us". He doesn't owe any debts. What he wants is... Booker
Ke has forgotten why he came, but he still has good wishes.
At the stairwell from the third floor to the fourth floor, there is still a notice: I will place you in the soil of New Eden.
The person who wrote these words is definitely a religious madman, a madman who thinks he is the Messiah. However, it is this kind of madman who can attract ignorant believers. Booker has always stayed away from them and never wanted to associate with this kind of dangerous people.
Dealing with the source of disaster.
The fourth floor was probably the lighthouse control room. The hatch was closed and could not be opened. He continued upward and reached the top floor. The Fresnel lens rotated quietly behind the glass cabin, and the hot light made the place steam. When the lamp head turned around, the cloth
Turn your back in time to avoid being blinded by the bright light.
There is no extra space for exploration in the lighthouse, and the glass cabin with the Fresnel lens seems to be the destination. The door is locked with a code, and the code is in the wooden box that the woman gave to Booker previously. The scroll once, the key
Twice, long sword twice, this pattern corresponds to the bell on the code lock, just hit it in order.
Booker struck the bell with anxiety and expectation. Then, a huge whistle came from the tower, and red lights were cast behind the clouds, like the reflection of heaven, clouds, sea, and atmosphere. Booker watched in amazement.
Look, in the grand flute, the world turns tragically red. The flute sounds regularly, and the bright red lights on the sky light up and darken in accordance with the rhythm of the low whistle.
It's like the end is coming. Just like the end is coming.
Booker has a ridiculous idea of messing up everything. A person should not cause the destruction of the world just by solving the lighthouse puzzle, and the changes that occurred in front of him may also be achieved using human industrial means, but -
—It should be like a miracle.
The Fresnel lens rose, the door of the glass cabin opened, and a red leather armchair that looked very comfortable was lifted out from under the mechanical floor of the room.
The strong sense of ritual in his heart guided Booker, and he actually found that he had no choice but to sit on the armchair.
It's really soft and comfortable. It has armrests and footboards.
The only problem was that the chair locked Booker's hands and feet.
He was suddenly hit by an accident. At this moment, he remained silent and maintained his dignity. A countdown came from the radio in the room, and a woman's voice, hard and distorted, reminded: Pilgrims, get ready, those things are to ensure your safety.
The chair was spinning. Booker was dizzy.
There was actually a spaceship hidden on the top of the lighthouse. The rising bulkheads closed around it, like a flower bud closing. In a blink of an eye, Booker was now inside an aircraft. The bottom of the bilge was overturned, and he threw his kerosene lamp like a garbage dump.
After getting out with the Mauser gun, he could clearly see the four launcher nozzles below the aircraft. If a second person stood here, he would definitely fall into the hot nozzle flames. This spacecraft was carrying one person.
As the countdown ended, the bilge closed, the rocket engine started, and Booker DeWitt was violently launched.
Through the porthole, Booker witnessed the scene outside - the rapid elevation, causing the sea level to retreat rapidly, the sky getting closer and closer, the clouds getting closer and closer, and he could even see thunder flashing not far above his head.
The pressure and terrifying apocalyptic atmosphere brought about by acceleration finally reached its peak.
Respectable Mr. Booker screamed like a pussy.
"Height of five thousand feet...ten thousand feet...fifteen thousand feet...twenty thousand feet"
The girl Booker looked at the clouds outside the window, his reflection on the window, his face was whiter than the clouds, he screamed and struggled endlessly.
The aircraft suddenly broke through the clouds.
In an instant, the sun shines brightly.
The world is transparent and bright.
The holy sun, the calm and gentle atmosphere, and the bright human cities floating in the sky and on the clouds.
"Hallelujah," the woman said.
Welcome to Columbia, the floating city, the promised land of God, the New Eden.
