Author: Deng Dies

These things are simply for venting, venting their anger and fear towards the "witch"?

"Hey!"

Just as Ryan lowered his head in the crowd and frowned and thought, he heard a call coming from his ears, and then the touch of gently patting his shoulder came.

He turned his head in surprise.

I saw a middle-aged man with a gray face and his eyes were as bright as a copper bell, pursing his bloodless lips and putting his skinny hands on Ryan's shoulder.

He wore a round hat, his sideburns exposed a dark brown, tall and pale nose slightly frowned, and his eyes kept scanning Ryan in front of him.

"Sir, where did you come from?"

He asked curiously with a hoarse voice.

"I'm coming from outside."

Ryan turned his head and looked at the man who was dressed very well but had a very haggard expression and responded faintly.

However, he was a little confused.

This man seems to be a little different from most fanatical people around him.

At least, he did not turn his eyes to the high platform, but swept around without caring, and finally took root in Ryan.

"Outside?"

"Sir, are you kidding? A few months ago, the city lord activated the city barrier. People inside could not get out, and people outside could not get in."

"How did sir come in?"

He skimmed his lips and said, "And, your outfit."

Ryan looked indifferent.

How many months?

In these people's memories, how many months have the abnormality lasted?

It doesn't match the outside world's time at all.

"City Lord, the city barrier?" he thought to himself.

Under the influence of what kind of force this place has become an "inflated" era.

There are also mysterious things like the city barrier.

"Operator Winster." News came from the demon hunting mechanism.

"The memories of these people may have been [given], and some people used the huge impact of magical styles to make these people [cognitive] in a reasonable form."

That is, it changed the world view?

This ridiculous and bizarre magical thing has become normal and more common.

“.?”

It sounds so familiar, have I experienced it too?

Ryan not only felt relieved, but also expressed his understanding.

Ryan is still wearing a long black windbreaker, a shirt underneath and trousers underneath.

But the difference is that everything is far from the so-called modern craftsmanship, as if it was back to Victorian Britain.

Black windbreaker, linen shirt, gray trousers.

Although it is retro, it is only a little bit retro.

In this place, no one wears this city called Insel, but it is not particularly "strange costumes"

In these human minds that have been tampered with memory.

After leaving the city, the outside world is rich and colorful, and there are many people wearing this kind of clothing.

Obviously.

This resident identified Ryan as a "outsider".

"Willard Fran."

The man with an ugly face seemed to have caught Ryan's abnormality at this moment. He cracked his mouth and smiled, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth covered with smoke.

"I am a novelist and the owner of a tavern."

"I am very interested in sir. I think you will definitely bring me a lot of surprises."

Willard slowly stretched out his withered hand.

"Ryan Winster."

"A. Hunter."

Ryan slowly stretched out his hand and held the chicken feet in front of him.

His heart moved slightly. Before Willard could recover from the surprise of the word "hunter", he took the lead and asked with a calm expression:

"Is Mr. Willard not interested? The Witch Judgment."

He had a deep meaning and observed Willard's next words and deeds.

"Witch Judgment?"

Willard recovered and looked at him strangely: "Hunter, interestingly, did he come to hunt the witch through this cursed city?"

"I have seen many hunters before, most of them are wanderers who make up stories to cheat wine and drink."

Then he heard the word "Witch Judgment" and suddenly laughed.

He turned his head, his eyes were indifferent and cold: "Let me point out some of the fallacies in your words, Mr. Ryan, this scene before the eyes of you and me, and even these fools."

"It was the witch who was judged."

"It was the witch who judged others."

"It's still unknown."

Willard's voice was gloomy and his tone was sinister.

The corners of his mouth slightly grinned, which was a curve called sarcasm, a deep hatred that complemented his stern eyes.

Similarly, it is like losing something important and feeling the deep and sadness of grief.

"The witch judges others?"

Ryan looked at him quietly, thinking.

"Mr. Willard seems to have objections to the Witch Trial?"

He said calmly, his eyes first stagnated on Willard, carefully scrutinizing the resentment on the haggard man's face, and then slowly turned his head away.

Looking around silent, but his face was filled with respectful people.

This man named Willard is simply a star. Compared with these people who are as enthusiastic as a believer and have extremely enthusiastic about the "Witch Judgment", he is not as calm as a human.

What has he lost?

The witch judges, or the witch judges others.

Ryan frowned, and there was already a vague guess in his heart.

"Mr. Lane."

Willard responded with a sneer, "I don't know if you are a hunter, what are you hunting, whether you kill or beast, in this city you will only see people who are more savage than any murderer."

He slowly closed his eyes.

Take out a roll of parchment from your pocket.

"When you finish watching this bloody farce, come here to find me."

"I will let you know how ridiculous and ridiculous the so-called witch judgment is!"

Stuff the parchment into Ryan's hand.

Willard turned stiffly.

Leaving away limped.

Ryan watched him leave, looking down.

Both of Willard's legs were covered by loose trousers, but as he walked in the wind, it was obvious that one of his legs was much thinner in outline.

Lower your head.

On the parchment paper, there are a series of door numbers.

"Modern text? And this texture"

In the magic hunting mechanism, someone muttered to the big screen: "It is better to say that it is an era of stitching than an era of invisibility."

Ryan folded the kraft paper silently, put it into the pocket of the windbreaker, then slowly turned around and continued to quietly wait for the beginning of the "Witch Judgment".

"Damn it, the atmosphere here is so annoying!"

A subtle female voice came out of his arms.

Raphael recalled his unbearable experience.

even.

Perhaps worse than the savage and rudeness he used to be!

Because these people around are extremely fanatical crazy people!
To be continued...