Deep Sea Embers

A cluster of dim and unusually flickering stars caught Duncan's attention.

There is a faint difference between that cluster of shimmering light and the surrounding starlight. Its illusory faint light is like a transparent phantom, and the flickering appearance gives people a feeling that it will disappear at any time——Duncan in this chaotic space It's not that I haven't seen faint flashes, but even if those flashes are weak, they won't show this illusory dissipating appearance.

He frowned slightly.

The faint flash of light often means the body that has just died, but at the same time, the faint and almost transparent sense of illusion... What does it mean?

He stretched out his finger and touched the light lightly.

In the next second, he felt that his consciousness suddenly crossed the long and endless boundary, and was projected from the Lost Homeland into a brand new body. The cold and numb perception spread from all the limbs, and then the numbness gradually faded away. , he began to feel the touch of the skin, and the slow beating of the heart.

But for some reason, he always felt that this new body was extraordinarily heavy, and it seemed to be separated by a thick curtain when he manipulated it—it took him a lot of effort to barely move his fingers, and it took the same effort to let his eyelids Open a slit.

It was dark.

Is a blind person? Or are the eyes blindfolded?

Duncan groped and raised his hand subconsciously, wanting to check the condition of his eyes, but just as he raised his hand, he felt that his arm hit some hard and cold obstacle, and then he raised his other arm, which also hit him. what.

He groped around and finally realized he was trapped in a… container.

It is a coffin.

Duncan lay quietly in the darkness, and sighed after a long silence: "Well, it's reasonable..."

Being trapped in a coffin while possessing a corpse is indeed a very reasonable development-two consecutive unrestricted possessions before are rare cases.

But why is it reasonable at this time!

A sense of irritability that could not help laughing and crying came to my heart. Duncan seemed to understand a little bit what happened to the stunned and speechless feeling of Agou and Fanna when they faced the "reasonable development on the Lost Homeland", but now It was obviously not the time to continue to sigh—he had to find a way to get out of this coffin.

Otherwise, he would have to give up this predestined body that he had chosen with great difficulty, and then choose another object to possess in that dark chaotic space, and he might be trapped in another coffin again.

Duncan began to move his hands and feet, trying to push the cover on the head while getting familiar with the perception of this unfamiliar body that was not easy to use. He had already confirmed this from the thumping feedback by knocking on the surrounding coffins just now. The coffin was not buried in the ground, it may have just been temporarily parked somewhere, which means that he can come out of this place just by pushing the lid on the head.

However, the coffin lid was more difficult to deal with than he imagined—the lid was nailed to death, and there might even be extra locks, and the body he occupied now was too "inferior", and the feeling from the limbs was even It was even weaker than the corpse he occupied on the sacrificial field in the sewer for the first time, not to mention pushing away a crucified coffin lid, and even moving around seemed extremely difficult.

What a weak dead man is this?

"Hey! Is there anyone outside? I think I can still save it! Call a doctor—if it doesn't work, call a forensic doctor..."

Duncan yelled helplessly while pushing the lid of the upper coffin. He didn't mind if it would scare anyone or cause any trouble—after a short period of adaptation and feeling, he had confirmed that the state of this body was extremely bad , it is unbearable to use for a long time, thinking it is the same as the "sacrifice" that I occupied for the first time, this is also a one-time body, since it is one-time... then there is nothing to worry about.

No matter who attracted him, as long as he could get himself up and look at the surrounding situation, if he was lucky, he could collect some information. Anyway, the worst thing would be to be directly trapped in this coffin, and it couldn't be worse.

At this time, he even had the time to think wildly, wondering whether he should ask Alice about his experience—how did the doll escape from the coffin board when it was nailed to death and chained several times? Can't it just rely on natural power?

In the dead and silent cemetery morgue, the sound of knocking and hoarse and low-pitched calls seemed particularly abrupt.

Of course, the guards would not ignore this sudden strange movement.

The door of the caretaker's hut was pushed open, and the light of a lantern illuminated the path leading to the morgue outside the wooden hut. A gloomy old man with gloomy eyes and a stooped back came out of the room. With a lantern in his hand, and a powerful double-barreled shotgun tightly in his other hand, his yellow and muddy eyes were fixed on the direction of the sound.

"...tonight's cemetery is too lively."

The old man muttered in a bad tone, and hung the lantern on the iron buckle around his waist, then drew a triangular emblem on his chest, picked up his double-barreled shotgun and walked slowly towards the coffins.

The coffin was still rattling, and the dead person in the coffin was persistently beating on the barrier between him and the living world, and while beating, asked the people outside to help him escape.

"Anyone? Help me, I think this is a misdiagnosis!"

"Calm down!" The guard held a double-barreled shotgun, and the sound of the rattling of the safety release was particularly clear in the night. The stooped old man stared at the coffin and shouted angrily, "You should go to sleep —You now belong to another world, and there is no room for you in the world of the living."

The knocking in the coffin suddenly stopped.

Duncan judged the sound outside, it should be an old man, very close to him, and there was a soft sound of metal mechanism bumping just now, maybe it was the sound of a weapon.

It would be easy for someone to handle it—in this way, no matter whether you can get out or not, you will have an extra way to get in touch with outside information.

"Okay, I want to know what's going on here," Duncan cleared his throat, thinking about how to maximize the value of this body, so as to get more information from the people outside the coffin, "I'm trapped in this ...in the coffin, but there must be some kind of misunderstanding, I'm still alive, listen, my voice is actually quite moderate."

"Breathing is a common delusion of the dead. The nostalgia for the world of the living is the paranoia left by the subconscious in the cerebral cortex. This is indeed not easy to accept, but Bartok has prepared a better destination for your soul. "The old caretaker stared at the coffin, still holding the shotgun in one hand, while the other hand calmly sketched the emblem representing the God of Death in the air, and then took out a small package of dry Powder, apply part of the powder on the barrel of the shotgun, and sprinkle the rest on the ground, "Lie down quietly, you should already feel sleepy, it is the call of the Lord of Death, obey it, it is good for us .”

The content of the teachings of Bartok, Lord of Death—Duncan silently memorized this part, then cleared his throat, and continued to circle around: "...But I still think I can save it, what if it is a misdiagnosis?"

The old caretaker with a shotgun frowned. For some reason, he always felt that this "restless man" tonight was different from anything he had encountered in his career. The voice in the coffin sounded a little too rational. He even knew how to bargain, but soon he shook his head and put this messy thought behind him:

"With all due respect, you stumbled and fell from the guard rail of the machine shaft, and fell straight into the mine tunnel 100 meters deep. The back of your head was cracked, and the embalmers took a lot of effort to put your skull together—sir, in my opinion, you The difficulty of misdiagnosing ... is extremely high."

Listening to the voice from outside the coffin, Duncan silently raised his hand and touched the back of his head.

"...Well, I admit that I seem to be injured a little bit, and this physical condition is really not suitable for leaving this coffin," he sighed, "Excuse me."

The old caretaker was silent for a few seconds, silently lit another spare lantern at his waist, hung it on a stake closest to the mortuary table, and said calmly, "You're welcome—— Compared with most restless people, you are still polite."

"Oh? Do you often encounter this kind of thing?"

"Every year there will always be a few corpses that are reluctant to stay in the coffin, most of them will try to use more violent ways to escape, only a few special cases will try to negotiate to solve the problem," the old caretaker muttered, "But even those who know how to negotiate are just uttering delirious gibberish. The dead always think that they can be resurrected from the dead, but in fact...the door of the great Bartok is not so easy to cross."

The old guard shook his head, and kept talking while watching the flame of the lantern on the nearby wooden post—he knew that the dead had no real reason, it was just the afterglow of the dead soul's obsession. During the conversation, this kind of " "Afterglow" was consumed particularly quickly, and when the sanity of the man in the coffin was exhausted, his "extra overtime" for today would be over.

"The restless person, the living dead, and resurrection from the dead, these are three completely different concepts," the old man muttered, "It takes amazing strength, great pain, and an extremely rare opportunity to cross these boundaries. Embarrass yourself, you can't get over it."