Chapter 72

Naturally, Watson would not know that the elegant middle-aged man in front of him was the suspicious target being investigated by the female detective.

He also stretched out his right palm to hold hands with the other person. His sense of touch, which had become sharper due to his esoteric training, seemed to be able to sense the faint smell of disinfectant that the other person had worked hard to clean but still remained in the flesh at the moment of holding hands. .

"Hello Mr. Morgan, just call me John."

"Hello Mr. John."

Winfrey nodded in greeting, and then began to introduce the girl in the wheelchair, "This is my dear daughter Anna... Anna, would you like to say hello to Mr. John?"

Anna was still unable to move. She could only blink her long eyelashes and tap her fingers lightly on the armrest of the wheelchair - Hello.

Even a cold-blooded and ruthless person like Watson would pretend to be gentle and friendly when faced with such a fragile and beautiful thing. He showed a kind smile and waved to the sick and immobile girl.

"Hello, beautiful Miss Anna."

Anna's beautiful eyes flashed a few times, as if she was thanking Mr. John for his compliment.

Watson has roughly deduced that this delicate girl is probably suffering from amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, which is later known as amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, a terminal disease that cannot be cured even in the 21st century.

In the current era, it may be called Charcot's disease. The name originated from Martin Charcot, the neurologist across France who first discovered the case.

Naturally, he would not foolishly ask questions to verify the accuracy of his inference. This would undoubtedly provoke a thorn in the heart of the miserable father in front of him.

There was a sudden silence between them. They did not talk again, but just enjoyed the rare sunshine silently in tacit understanding... until the sun was covered by the returning dark clouds, and the colorful garden was once again cast in a dead gray color. In Anna's eyes is also like this.

Anna's eyes were gloomy again, and even the tall tree crowns as green as spring could not relieve her sorrow.

Watson's education told him that he should try to make the girl happy at this moment, but his empathy today has been exhausted, and the library of British jokes in his mind that are mainly sarcastic and self-deprecating is obviously not enough. Applicable to the little girl in front of you - it is difficult for you to cheer up a girl who will die soon. She is in the prime of youth that should bloom like a flower, but her life has entered the sunset and is about to set. Silent to the cold and dark underground.

Winfreth seemed to be unable to bear to see his daughter continue to grieve. He said sorry and let's talk about it next time when we have a chance, turned the wheelchair and pushed the girl back to the inpatient building.

Watson looked at the lonely backs of the father and daughter gradually retreating, and the moth in his skull flapped its wings covertly. He suddenly had some kind of hallucination. In a trance, he seemed to hear the vibration of the drum head, and he seemed to hear the thunder. With an angry sound, he seemed to witness an endless monster with hair all over its body stepping on the sea surface and dancing. The monster with electric light flashing in its hair danced passionately while pushing the almost broken weight. The iceberg chases away in the direction of the sun setting far away from the sea level.

When he came back to his senses, the backs of the father and daughter had disappeared, but Watson couldn't help but frown slightly... It was the secret messenger again, that is, the code of heart and winter mentioned by little Victor. Rules.

But he could vaguely sense that the immobile girl Anna seemed not to be a simple esoteric practitioner. The powerful winter aspect in her body... seemed to be out of control. It was not so much the esoteric aspect. More like a scar or illness left by some kind of winter emissary.

"Could it be that the so-called ALS... is actually the inability of mortals to withstand the effects of high-level winter, and the body is damaged and corroded by the silent power, causing neuronal damage and muscle weakness and atrophy."

"So, is this father named Winfreth planning to use the power of the Code of Heart to cure his daughter's illness?"

"But the forbidden knowledge passed down by Si Chen...how could it be such a kind force!"

Watson shook his head and decided not to think about it anymore. He also returned to his ward with a cane. When night fell, he plucked out a hair again and escaped into sleep.

This time he crossed the Dream Walk path and came to the vicinity of the rugged boulders.

He looked at the huge boulder in front of him that was as tall as a mountain and as rugged as a church. He still did not touch it rashly. He always hid his figure in the shadow of the forest and walked behind the ancient trees that stood like warriors guarding the border. , he tried to skip the jagged boulders and head directly further.

I don’t know how long I walked, but the boulder finally stopped blocking my path.

Watson was also able to get a glimpse of the scene behind the rugged boulders, which was a deep and dark light curtain. The light curtain was tall and majestic and reached straight into the sky, like a solid wall guarding the unknown place inside the forest.

There is a strange cobalt blue glow faintly flowing inside the light curtain, just like the colorful aurora in the night sky in cold areas. It is a brilliant color that is difficult to describe with words and difficult to be painted with a brush.

Watson seemed to have reached the true boundaries of the woodland.

He suddenly felt a bone-chilling chill, and his soul could not help but tremble, as if there was an icy breath passing through his body.

The moth inside his skull flapped its wings irritably, and his pupils shone with a more fluorescent green light than before. The world in front of him became particularly clear, and he could see an almost transparent gray-white figure wandering among the ancient iron-colored woods.

The figure roughly maintained the outline of a human figure, and even wore neat clothes. It did not look like a person in a dream at all, and it seemed that his legs and feet were awkward when moving.

With a vigilant attitude, Watson slowly moved in front of the figure exuding a cold aura. He vaguely saw an aging face, saw a pair of cloudy and lifeless eyes, and heard the other person's unconscious words. Whisper.

"I...I don't want to die yet...I haven't lived enough yet..."

It turned out to be a dead soul!

Watson felt as if he had come into contact with the core secret of Mansu... It turned out that not only the secret messengers could enter Mansu, but even the souls of the dead would be dragged into this illusory world.

But another question arose in his heart, whether these dead souls... still had the consciousness of their lifetimes. If the other party could still think and talk, wouldn't many suspense cases in reality be easily solved? It looks like Holmes and the other detectives are going to be out of a job.

He first took a few steps back, picked up a stone on the ground, and threw it towards the lingering shadow of the undead - the stone penetrated easily, without even a ripple appearing on the illusory body. It seems to be just a mirage projected from a distance. It does not exist at all. It will not be touched by this sudden attack. It is still indulged in the memories of its lifetime.

While he was still thinking about how to communicate with the dead soul, a figure approached behind him silently. It was so quiet that even his five senses, which were now far beyond ordinary people, could not detect any footsteps.

"There is no need to try. The souls of the mortal dead have extinguished the light in their skulls and lost their minds long before they entered Mansu."

Ten days have passed since William's death, and I feel itchy and restless... I'm addicted to the blade.