Stray

    Niemo Wright has never been so embarrassed.

    He knelt on one knee on the ground, his hands desperately grasping the limb of the creature strangling the neck. It's a pity that the ghost was slippery, covered in blood and mucus of unknown origin, and he couldn't grasp it tightly, so he could only endure the severe pain from the back of his neck in despair. That thing must have made a hole in the back of his neck and was trying to get in.

    He could clearly feel something sticking into his flesh and wrapping his spine. And the person who caused this situation was kneeling beside him, also scrambling to try to tear the monster off, his face full of panic and guilt.

    The cause is simple.

    The town of Signpost is adjacent to the Ash Mountains and is the closest human town to the entrance to the abyss. Lesser demons are as common in small towns as voles. Occasionally, a few brainless mid-level demons broke into the town, and the guards would ring the alarm to let ordinary townspeople take shelter - and when the garrison forked them out, everyone would walk back slowly. He was attacked many times, and even eight-year-olds knew how to grab more candies from the table on the premise of retreating as quickly as possible. No one would feel nervous about such a thing.

    Since Wright Sr. passed away six years ago, the Wright Orphanage has existed in name only. The eldest, Nemo Wright, gritted his teeth and pulled up the remaining cubs. Seeing that they were taken away one by one by passing mercenary groups, they finally became alone this year.

    The moment he heard the alarm, he had no one to notify. The young Mr. Wright went out the door with the package and the bird cage, and made his way leisurely towards the refuge near the forest.

    Then he met this idiot who ran back for no reason.

    This guy ran earnestly, completely unaware of what was chasing behind him - a highly decomposed human corpse was on all fours, twisted into a ball, and followed silently like a spider.

    Nemo's scalp exploded instantly.

    He wanted to make a sound to warn the approaching people. As a result, before he could open his mouth, he saw something bounced off the corpse and headed straight for the prey not far away.

    At that moment, Nemo's body moved ahead of his brain.

    He swooped on instinctively and bumped into the man who was running. The opponent was caught off guard and fell to the ground. Nemo himself avoided the fate of eating mud with his mouth. He instinctively pushed his right hand to the ground and sprained his wrist.

    It's a little relief for both sides. The man was not small, and Nemo knocked himself out of his mind for a few seconds. He crawled up from the other person in embarrassment, patted the mud on his trousers in vain, and then realized the more obvious pain in his wrist.

    "Something attacked you just now, something I haven't seen." He pointed at the corpse a few steps away with his left hand still sticking to the soil, and explained to the unlucky guy who was still sitting on the ground - in the dark of night For a moment I couldn't see who this unlucky **** was. "you…"

    The cold and sticky touch on his neck forced him to swallow the second half of the sentence. Then came the severe pain that went deep into the bone marrow, which almost brought him to tears.

    This time, the bad luck flashed through his mind.

    Growing up in such a dangerous place, Nemo thinks he is mentally prepared for "no good death" - but he didn't expect death to come so soon, he didn't even Time to feel fear. Nemo opened his mouth to try to breathe, but he could only make a strange ho-ho sound, and he could feel the warm blood gushing out of the wound, soaking the sackcloth down his back.

    Maybe he wasn't as mentally prepared as he thought. He struggled dazedly amid the unknown attack, trying to grab a lifeline that didn't exist, like a drowning drunk.

    "Spellcaster."

    However, the darkness of death did not come as expected, the pain did not disappear, and a thin and joyful voice got into Nemo's ear.

    "...you're a spellcaster too!"

    No, not really, not even on the edge. he thought dazedly.

    "Make a wish, caster," said the voice, every word tinged with command. The suffocating restraint finally loosened, and Nemo struggled for a breath of fresh air. "Give you a minute to think about your..."

    "...Where can you go back to?" In less than three seconds, Nemo struggled to squeeze a wish out of his throat—absolutely sincere, urgent, and heartfelt.

    The voice was silent for a while.

    "No," it said bluntly.

    "What about 'don't kill me'?" Nemo quickly found his next wish.

    "No." The voice sounded a little angry. "Either make a wish, or I will kill you directly."

    "Then kill me when I'm dying of old age—"

    The voice ignored him this time, adding a threatening force to his throat.

    "...Then I have nothing else to wish for." He muttered a little dully.

    "It is useless to procrastinate," said the voice, "it is impossible for a human being to have no desire."

    If he insists on saying a wish, he really has one that is destined to be unfulfilled. It is a pity that "the dead cannot be resurrected" is the iron rule of this world - old Patrick has already become a dead bone, and in terms of age, it is a rare death in this ghost place. And all his former family members have a stable home, and at least they can live comfortably until they reach adulthood.

    Nimo Wright has always believed that there is nothing wrong with living an ordinary life. He is not too young, and he will no longer dream of juvenile spirits. There is no asking for nothing, no worrying about it. Those stories full of blood and fire will always take place in another world, and he only hopes to continue to be an insignificant ordinary person in the small town.

    But now he suddenly wanted to laugh a little - death was imminent, and he didn't even have a serious wish to delay.

    "Okay... okay." Finally, he sighed and reached out to grab the wrist of the original victim - the man was still dealing with this slippery unknown creature, turning his face to look at him from time to time, It doesn't look like the reaction can be heard.

    This time Nemo sees who the hapless one is, Oliver Ramon, the only son of the innkeeper. In my impression, he was a few years younger than him.

    "Stop pulling it, Ramon." Nemo scratched his hair irritably, trying to ignore the odd, bitter taste in his mouth. "Why are you running into town?"

    "My dad didn't follow," Although he didn't understand why the other party suddenly asked this, the young man answered honestly. "He clearly told me..."

    "Okay, take us to this guy's father," Nemo said. "That's what I want."

    Oliver Ramon looked at him in confusion.

    "Easy," replied the voice, "How stupid of you to waste such a precious opportunity—ah!"

    The thing—whatever it was, let out a shriek that only Nemo could hear, a shriek that could tear one's eardrums apart. The severe pain in the back of the neck turned into a numb tingling, the suffocation disappeared, and the cold and sticky replaced it with warmth. Nemo touched his neck subconsciously, only to feel the blood on one hand.

    He lowered his head subconsciously, and finally barely saw the culprit's face - a mass of blue-purple flesh was squirming on the ground, squeezed himself into the bird cage with difficulty, and then wrapped the half-dead inside. Grey parrot.

    "What the **** is this?" Oliver asked in horror.

    "I don't know." Nemo murmured, hesitant to start saving the bird.

    It turns out he was overthinking. In just a few seconds, the chunks of meat burrowed into the grey parrot's body as quickly as water seeps into a dry sponge.

      It was as old as a panting fur duster, and it didn't make any resistance movements throughout, just a few symbolic twitches.

    Then it jumped up.

    "What's the matter!" The gray parrot issued a full-fledged accusation, without the slightest look of being sick. "The contract is clearly established—"

    Nimo and Oliver looked at each other, frustrated to find that the other's face was only blank.

    "In other words, my wish is still valid?" For no reason, Nemo only felt that there was some kind of weirdness in his heart, the relief after he gave everything. He didn't know where the courage came from. It might be time for him to scream and run away, away from this weird thing, for one last struggle.

    But the people who do it in the story usually don't get good results. Nemo twitched the corners of his mouth, maybe he was too used to giving up. Faced with this situation where the ghost knows what's going on, handing over the fate to God can be regarded as some kind of solution.

    "...Let's lead the way first." He said calmly, wiping the blood on the back of his neck.

    The grey parrot clicked a few times and pondered for a while. "Okay," it announced arrogantly, "you open the cage first."

    Nimo raised his eyebrows and began to wonder if this little monster who couldn't even open a birdcage could really kill himself. He opened the cage, and the grey parrot squeezed out of the cage with some unsightly movement and slammed into the mud.

    "Follow me." The grey parrot version of the monster didn't feel anything wrong, and quickly climbed up again.

    …then take small steps towards town.

    Nimo's desire to survive suddenly swelled in his heart, he didn't want to be killed by such a thing - he at least still had the most basic dignity as a human being.

    And Oliver Ramon glanced at the gray parrot who was trotting hard in front of him, and looked at Nemo again. At this moment, the only remaining panic on the young man's face disappeared, and the only thing left was dazed.

    "Don't ask. It'll take us to your father...probably." Nemo said sternly. His wrists were throbbing, his neck was bleeding, and it took all his willpower just to hold back the cold air. "Don't ask now, please."

    Oliver closed his just opened mouth and nodded sympathetically. But he also seemed a little silly to follow such a galloping bird. His steps were completely lost from the firmness just now, full of hesitation.

    However, this strange awkward atmosphere soon disappeared from them.

    Although they haven't reached the town yet, this distance is enough to see the firelight in the red night sky. A huge shadow that wasn't supposed to be there was slowly moving in their direction.

    Nemo held his breath subconsciously, this time the fear really hit him. Familiar buildings were burning in front of him - shouldn't that be the case, what about the guards? What about the garrison? Lubiao Town is indeed not a safe place to live, but after all, it is touched by the light of the Ash Mountains, and being uneasy here only means double vigilance.

    He had never seen such a serious situation in his mind.

    The grey parrot was still running in front of her, unmoved. Oliver stopped, his expression serious.

    "The situation is not very good." He spoke quickly and anxiously. "Would you like to wait here? I can go by myself."

    "Ramon..."

    "I don't know what just happened, but you really don't need to follow—"

    "Ramon!" Nemo grabbed the collar of the chattering youth, "That stupid parrot stopped!"

    The young man stared at him in confusion.

    Nemo's lips trembled. Oliver was turning his back to the town and couldn't see what he was seeing. The shadow was finally close enough to be clearly illuminated by the fire, and unfortunately this time Nemo knew what it was.

    The jellyfish should never be in this place.

    Although the name sounds quite harmless, the deadwood jellyfish is a real big devil, and even half a foot into the upper demon class in terms of strength. Nemo has never had a passion for the study of demons, but the race is known for its eccentric habits, which are often joked by adventurers.

    They are equivalent to large sloths in the abyss, they lack interest in other creatures, and basically have no desire to attack. The docile deadwood jellyfish do only one thing—floating back and forth in their habitat.

    On the outside, they are almost beautiful. Pale cap-like head, with a circle of dark eyes neatly embedded around the edge. Its body was shrouded in flowing smoke, and only a few white and miserable bone spurs protruded from the smoke, like dead branches. Even though the fire was blazing into the sky at this moment, the milky white smoke still shone with a charming brilliance.

    They really just have to float back and forth. The smoke is constantly digesting the living things that come into contact with it, and everything that once belonged to the living things. This characteristic makes them difficult to deal with, but no adventurer who does not have long eyes will deal with them specially. If you encounter deadwood jellyfish in the abyss, just pass by quietly.

    They never leave their habitat, and no one is stupid enough to summon this useless and dangerous demon.

    But there is another who should not be here.

    "Okay." The grey parrot called from a distance. "This is the man you're looking for—"

    The deadwood jellyfish is not moving towards them, but being dragged over by people.

    Golden incantations loomed from the smoke. Compared with the huge body of the demon, they are as slender and fragile as spider silk, but they tie the deadwood jellyfish honestly. Those golden threads intertwined with each other, and finally merged with the five fingers of human beings.

    The owner of the Fingers - the sloppy innkeeper raised his head and gave Oliver a big smile.

    "Hi, son, I'm so sorry," he said, "to trouble you to kill me."