On the street corner late at night, the dim lights fell, and the atmosphere in the tavern was very calm, with only the strong smell of alcohol reverberating in it.
This is a newly opened tavern. It probably didn’t have much publicity, and due to its remote location, there were very few guests in the tavern, and there was no sound of conversation. Everyone sat in their own shadows, tasting strong drinks.
After resting enough, we walked into the wind and rain.
Lorenzo was sitting at the edge of the bar. The sword bag filled with nailed swords was hung aside, revealing a cold corner, which made those who noticed it deeply frightened.
It seems like I didn’t do anything today, but I feel like I’ve experienced a lot.
Lorenzo stared at the wine in the glass, his face reflected on the dark space-colored surface.
After drinking it all, Lorenzo didn't feel much drunk. The demon hunter's physique meant that such numbness could only last for a short period of time, and he couldn't even let himself completely indulge.
"You look troubled."
The bartender came over. There were no customers now, and he was very leisurely.
"It's okay, I just always feel like something is wrong, like I lost myself at that time."
Lorenzo responded lazily, raised his head, and smiled at the bartender.
"The new store is not bad, Hercule."
"I think it's pretty good. Although it's a bit remote, at least it's far away from the downtown area." Hercule put his hands on his hips and looked at his new store with satisfaction.
"The Xiacheng area is a mixed bag, and it's easy to make money, but there are also a lot of things going on. Those guys fight in the pub from time to time, and sometimes a few people die. It's really annoying."
Feeling the harmony in the tavern, soft songs slowly playing on the gramophone, Hercule enjoyed the beauty of peace.
"Where's the old store?" Lorenzo asked.
"Sold to someone else."
Hercule said as he picked up several wine bottles and poured them back and forth. The wines of different colors were mixed together and placed in the glass. Fine bubbles continued to float on it. The color was dark green, like the saliva of some kind of monster.
.
After doing all this, Hercule pushed the wine glass to Lorenzo. Lorenzo glanced at it. Although he didn't want to, he still took the glass for the sake of Hercule's exemption. "
Just let it happen."
"So Mr. Holmes didn't come here just to have a few drinks with me, right?"
Hercule asked, and at this moment, the sound of tiny footsteps sounded. It was very slight, but it could not escape Lorenzo's ears.
Poirot jumped up onto the bar. Lorenzo tried to grab it, but it jumped up again and landed on Hercule's head.
It made a squeaking sound, as if laughing at Lorenzo.
"Damn rat."
Lorenzo cursed secretly, then looked at Hercule and said uncertainly.
"I always feel...I seem to have forgotten something."
"The Memory Palace, I taught you this." Hercule said.
It was a magical palace with countless corridors and doors. The bookshelves in the room were filled with books, recording everything in life in detail, waiting for the owner of the palace to check it out.
It was with the help of Hercule that Lorenzo recovered his lost memory.
"No, it's a little different. I encountered antimemes at the end of the world. I was also trying to use the memory palace to avoid these..."
Lorenzo's voice gradually became lowered as he recalled the illusory scene in his mind.
The splendid palace continued to collapse and collapse under the influence of antimemes. Lorenzo ran wildly along the path of memory. He found the room related to Floki Wilgdason, but the walls there were blank.
, the door to advance has long been erased.
"Antimemes can erase even the memory palace. It is a complete erasure."
There was a bit of fear in Lorenzo's words. This power did not have a ferocious entity, nor could it bring torture, but its deceitful nature was enough to keep anyone awake at night.
"Just like you, Hercule, if you are erased, my memories related to you will disappear, and the things that can confirm your existence will also be distorted, just like an author's stroke of a pen, the book will be
It’s the same as completely eliminating a character.”
Hercule's face turned cold. From these few words, he could already understand how terrifying this power was, but the most important thing was Lorenzo's reaction.
"At first I thought I was not affected by antimemes, but the longer I lived in Old Dunling, the more I could feel the slightest difference. It seemed...my life was not like this. I seemed to be missing something, but
I can't remember."
Lorenzo said to himself, his expression slightly painful.
There was something he had forgotten, something very important, something extremely important, but Lorenzo could not remember it anyway.
"Are you sure you are not affected by an antimeme?" Hercule asked.
"I...I wasn't affected."
Lorenzo hesitated for a moment, then became determined. At the end of the world, he continued to inject large amounts of Florund's potion. In order to avoid forgetting anything, he always remained vigilant.
Recalling the past again, pictures flashed before my eyes.
"Could it be you who made yourself forget this?" Hercule wondered.
"I...let myself forget this?"
Listening to Hercule's words, Lorenzo's expression was slightly dazed.
"Yeah, I don't know what exactly happened to you, but it's very possible, isn't it? Besides, it's not the first time you've done this."
Hercule wiped the glasses, made them clean, and hung them on the cup holder above.
"Those dim memories were deliberately forgotten by you and sealed behind the door. Maybe the things you forgot this time will be the same."
"Then there should be traces of it in the Memory Palace."
Lorenzo said, but halfway through he suddenly realized the problem.
Looking at his interesting expression, Hercule smiled. Regarding memory, Hercule was more familiar with this thing than anyone else. With that past experience, he could easily remember his every day.
"Look, maybe it's like this. You used antimemes to make yourself forget something."
Lorenzo was silent for a while, his pupils narrowed slightly, and his thoughts were racing.
"So...why should I forget this?"
…
It is often said that after you know enough about Old Dunling, you will realize that Old Dunling is an extremely bloated city, not only because of the complex systems wrapped around the city, but also because of its huge and complex construction.
The most troublesome thing in this city is not the endless water vapor, but the steam pipes spread deep underground. With the vigorous construction of the mechanical yard, the pillars of the furnace are like the roots of trees deeply rooted in the earth.
It continues to spread to all directions, filling the land with machinery and steel.
With the blessing of the years, the design of the Furnace Pillar has been iterated from generation to generation, personnel have been replaced, and machinery has been expanded. The underground world of old Dunling has completely turned into another huge and dark maze, filled with rats and poisonous insects.
Not even the Ever-Moving Pump has the confidence to say that he fully understands this upside-down underground city.
The water from the Thames River was poured into the furnace column, and the rising fireworks released a large amount of steam, which surged in the pipes and drove various machines.
Among the entrenched steel tree roots, the eternal pump is located in the middle of the furnace pillar. Below it, which is the deepest part of the furnace pillar, is the high-temperature furnace, and the burned waste residue is dumped into this dark place.
in, forgotten.
There is no need, almost no one will come here, and there is actually no direct way to reach this depth.
With the cooperation of the Perpetual Pump and the Mechanical Institute, the functions of the Furnace Pillar were differentiated many years ago. The upper section near the surface will control all operations of the Furnace Pillar, while the lower section of the Furnace Pillar only needs to be controlled from time to time.
Just check and maintain it on the ground, no personnel required to be stationed at all.
Therefore, the ever-moving pump is the deepest point that can be reached. Below it is just a sea of burning fire, providing a steady stream of power for the old Dun Ling.
Driven by these reasons, most people in the purification agency have forgotten that there is such a dark place, and no one will think about what the root of the Furnace Pillar is.
But now, the depths that people regard as the remains of wasteland are filled with dazzling white light, which illuminates the huge underground buildings. At the top are complex pipelines and the constant roaring sounds.
.
The man in black raised his head and looked at the dark red light source above his head, which was the pillar of the furnace. Behind the thick metal, there was a sea of burning fire. With the roar, hot steam overflowed from the cracks in the pipes, and in the cold metal
Cool on top, leaving slightly cool water droplets.
This is the deepest part of the Pillar of the Furnace, but it is different from the darkness of the wasteland that people are familiar with. There is a huge building complex here that is not inferior to the Perpetual Pump. The man in black looked under the high platform and could see armed and silent people.
Soldiers, they marched silently, and were sent to the ground by elevators with a sharp and piercing sound.
Those are secret passages that lead directly to the surface of Old Dunling. Even those within the purification agency are unaware of the existence of these secret passages.
The man in black reached out his hand, picked up a cigarette, and lit it.
Smoking was not a pleasant thing for him. His body was deformed, and under the stimulation of tobacco, he could only feel a heartbreaking pain, but he still stubbornly inhaled and let the pain make him sober.
"A new round of antimemetic influence is ready and ready to be launched."
The broadcast echoed in the underground world, the twisting of machinery could be heard, and there was another roar in the furnace.
"Start delivering."
Carriers carrying antimemetic information are placed in the furnace, and they will be wrapped together with the rising steam, turning them into new carriers, overflowing the streets of old Dunling, rising into cumulus clouds, and turning into cold rain.
It fell and continued to baptize the city.
No one knows what they don’t know yet. This is true for the purification mechanism, and it is also true for those who built the country.
In this forgotten darkness, they influenced the old Dunling's cognition and firmly hid those secrets that could not be exposed for the time being.
There were footsteps, and the man in black turned around, only to see another guy wearing a silver mask appear in front of him.
Judging from the appearance, this should be a woman, but her whole body was wrapped in a robe. Under the robe, she could vaguely see a metal made of the same material as the mask, which seemed to be a close-fitting armor, completely protecting her.
"how is the progress?"
The woman asked, her voice cold and without any emotion.
"All preparations have been completed. Records related to the scavengers have been completely erased, and the personnel lists have been destroyed. In addition, due to the antimemetic influence that has been carried out since the establishment of the scavenger department, no one knows our existence now.
Even Mr. Holmes is like that."
The man in black said that as the most mysterious department in the purge agency, he was very confident about this.
"Don't underestimate him. I guess Mr. Holmes has noticed something strange. If we delay for a while, he might find us." The woman said.
The man in black thought for a while, and he felt that Lorenzo might indeed do such a thing, but he was not worried about what the woman was worried about.
"Don't worry, the actors are in place and the curtain is about to rise."
"Is this so..." the woman murmured, and she turned to look at the man in black. In the darkness under the mask, there was a faint firelight.
"You have traces of erosion on your body. Many people here have such traces."
"That's right," the man in black said frankly, "among the scavengers, people like us are called returnees."
"It doesn't sound like a good title."
"Just get used to it," the man in black looked down at the underground world, "Those who can appear here are already prepared."
"To die?"
"Not just to die, but to comply with the regulations, absolutely. Even if someone survives, before leaving the scavenger department, he will be affected by the antimemetic and forget everything related to this place."
"No one knows," the woman said wearing a mask. The silver mask was covered with delicate patterns, and no one could see her expression. "It sounds so sad."
The man in black smiled, not feeling sad about it, and then said his name.
"Galahad."
"It sounds like a code name," the woman hesitated, but did not refuse, "Watson."
"That sounds like yours too. What's your name?" Galahad asked.
"It will be forgotten eventually. This kind of thing is not important. The same is true for you, right?"
Galahad did not deny or answer. Watson stood with him and stared at the scavengers running at full speed. In the distance, heavy footsteps echoed, as if giants were marching in the darkness.
Galahad's emotions hadn't been aroused like this for a long time. It was hard for him to stay calm and he marveled.
"We have transcended the story and escaped the 'author's' pen."
Galahad continued.
"We will be dispatched at critical moments to change the direction of the entire story, just like the most sudden turning point in the story."
Listening to his words, Watson seemed to have remembered something, and there was a smile under the mask, and she said.