Citizens on this continent, even the poorest people, took out the last coins in their pockets to buy ribbons, food, liqueur... to celebrate the arrival of the New Year.
Time has entered 1603 unknowingly.
Kings City.
"Sell newspapers, sell newspapers!"
A newsboy wearing a tattered coat, a peaked cap, and carrying a green cloth bag with a red face ran across the street, shouting at the top of his lungs.
He saw the frozen corpses being carried out of the alley and placed on the carriage by the body collectors.
Among the corpses, some were bankrupt homeless people, and some were wearing work clothes and seemed to be unemployed workers.
At this time, they all turned into cold, stiff corpses and were carried out of the city by corpse collectors for cremation.
The factories with pillars of black smoke rising from each one looked like a demonic abyss devouring life.
The sky was gray and filled with a chilling chill.
The newsboy shrank his neck, shook the snowflakes off his body, and continued to grit his teeth as he trudged through the snow.
Snapped!
The ground was too slippery and he fell.
The newsboy lost his center of gravity and raised his hand with great effort. He could not let the newspaper in his hand get stained, otherwise he would not be able to sell it.
"Young man...I'll buy a newspaper."
Fang Xian opened the door and saw a little carrot head falling in front of his door, holding a newspaper high, and couldn't help but smile.
"OK."
The newsboy got up quickly and patted the snow on his body.
Fang Xian handed over an iron coin, received a newspaper, and smiled: "Would you like to come in and sit for a while and have a sip of hot tea?"
"I……"
Just as the newsboy was about to refuse, a gust of cold wind blew by.
He was all excited, bent down and said: "Thank you, kind sir!"
"You can call me Mr. Rocca."
Fang Xian made a gesture of invitation and went to the counter to make tea.
The newsboy raised his head and saw the sign - 'Gothic Commodity Store'.
When I walked into the glass door, my vision was a little dim. There were rows of shelves inside the store, ranging from colored paper, sausages, cane sugar, toffee, to hairpins, bows, and all kinds of cups, plates, and decorations. The shelves were piled messily.
People have the illusion that they will fall to the ground if they are not careful.
"Here, take a sip to warm yourself up."
Fang Xian smiled and handed over the tea cup.
"Thank you...Mr. Rocca, my name is Little Locke."
Little Locke held the cup in both hands and took a sip, feeling his body become warm.
He took a deep breath and began to look at the counter in front of Mr. Rocca.
This counter is separated by glass, and the goods inside are obviously more valuable.
Mr. Roca stood behind the counter with a smile on his face. The faint light filtered in from the window, full of a sense of mottled history and vicissitudes of life.
There seemed to be something crawling in the shadow.
Little Locke quickly rubbed his eyes. He seemed to have seen a tentacle with a suction cup just now.
But looking now, there is nothing at all, just darkness.
"Little guy, you seem to be quite interested in my collection of goods." At this time, he heard Mr. Rocca's words again.
"Yes."
Little Locke quickly lowered his head and pretended to look at the products on the glass counter.
"Huh?"
He found that the products on the counter were indeed very different from those on the shelves.
A doll made of straw, a necklace made of unknown animal teeth, and a black crystal ball, with a weird white bone claw base tray underneath...
In addition, there are also a black walking stick of unknown material and several hard-covered notebooks that are not in good condition.
"This is a voodoo doll from the nomads in the West, a necklace of the king from the Land of the Rising Sun in the East, a divination crystal ball... a ghost stick that can help people find money, but you have to be careful, the black ghost will come out at any time to scare you.
Jump……"
Fang Xian introduced them one by one: "Of course, my most proud products are these books...this one is my collection of poems!"
"Very... great!" Little Locke instantly equated the Roca shop owner with the profiteers he often saw selling gadgets.
"How's it going? Young man... today our store's collections are all on sale at a 10% discount."
Fang Xian looked at little Locke, and suddenly a strange smile appeared.
…
Little Locke's head was a little dizzy, and it wasn't until he walked out of the store and was struck by the snow and wind that he finally regained consciousness.
"I...what did I do?"
He pressed his temple and felt a stabbing pain.
During the constant pressing, some vague memories emerged.
It seems that I was probably... persuaded by Mr. Rocca to buy something?
He exclaimed and immediately reached for his pocket.
After discovering that only the iron coin used to buy the newspaper was missing, I couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief.
He can still afford the cost of a newspaper.
"Huh?"
Little Locke touched his arms and found that there was a notebook with a black cover there.
He vaguely remembered that he seemed to have purchased the shop owner's poetry collection at a super discounted price for an iron coin.
Little Locke opened the title page to see what the shopkeeper had written. As a newsboy, he still knew some words.
But unexpectedly, as soon as I opened the notebook, I felt a dizzy feeling.
Hiss...
rustle……
Little Locke's ears were ringing, like a radio with poor signal receiving a lot of noise.
His throat rolled, he felt nauseous and wanted to vomit, so he quickly closed the notebook.
Little Locke didn't dare to look at the notebook anymore, nor did he dare to look back. He quickly wrapped himself up and rushed into the wind and snow.
…
"The choice of fate..."
Fang Xian crossed his arms and looked at this scene with a smile on his lips.
He turned back, looked at the darkness, and opened a door.
The smell of blood assaulted my nostrils.
In the center of the secret room is an iron anatomy table, surrounded by solidified dark brown traces, as if it has a life of its own and is wailing.
This is a mutation born from the blood of too many alien species.
On the surrounding wooden shelves, there are glass bottles containing various organs in different categories.
Such as Ghoul Claws, Scale Man Lungs, Hound Eyes, etc...
This is some research based on Hopkins' records.
It was only now that Fang Xian dared to say that he had fully understood all the knowledge left by the ascendant Hopkin.
During this period of time, the Order of the Lost God was also booming, but the believers' calls day and night had almost no effect on the catastrophic power of silence.
This also made Fang Xian certain that if he called out so slowly, he would definitely not be able to regain his strength within two years, let alone go further.
When the end comes, the ancient rulers descend or wake up. They may not pay attention to ordinary people, but based on their status, there is a high probability that they will be noticed.