Chapter 329 It’s a dream, not a dream

Chapter 329 It’s a dream, not a dream

John Watson woke up in a daze, feeling as if he had had a long, intermittent dream, so much so that his head was still groggy, as if some kind of buzzing aftertaste was still lingering in his head.

At the beginning of that long dream journey, I was swimming in the shining ocean of knowledge, and every sparkling wave contained wonderful knowledge.

The feeling of filling the brain with text and audio messages is infinitely wonderful. It is a higher-dimensional satisfaction that far surpasses physiological satisfaction such as a full stomach and a full sleep. Even if he has woken up from a dream, he still misses the joy of acquiring knowledge.

In the middle of the dream, I woke up once to verify the knowledge given by Ms. Charlotte, to experiment with the effect of the prosthetic pupil in my left eye, and to experience the happiness of rational thinking for the first time.

Then what? He seemed to be sitting on the bed in a daze, neither getting up nor falling asleep, without any physical movements or any mental activities - this memory made John Watson feel confused, and he couldn't tell the difference for a while. Is the self sitting still a part of the dream, or is it a memory of the real waking up?

But will there be a plot of waking up and falling asleep again in the dream?

Immediately afterwards, he seemed to have fallen into a dream again, but the memory of the time in the middle proved that he was already quite awake at that time, and it should be impossible to fall asleep again quickly... Is being awake also a false perception in a dream?

Is a lucid dream still a dream? Or is it just my own imagination?

The second dream that followed was a real dream. Now I recall that there was both a subjective first perspective and a third perspective of spectatorship - John Watson was still awake to a certain extent when he was in the first perspective.

But when switching to the third perspective, it seems confused and can only passively accept the development of the dream, just like a spectator outside the stage, unable to interfere with the performance of the opera at all.

In this dream, John Watson vaguely remembered that he seemed to be walking into an extremely dark forest, and the forest was eerily silent.

But the silence seems to be mixed with some weird sounds that you have to listen carefully to detect. There are flapping wings, rustling teeth, thumping drums, and some that cannot be heard clearly. Whispering...the volume of these strange noises from unknown sources is very soft and confusing. It seems that if you don't pay attention, it will disappear in the shadows deep in the forest. Even if you concentrate, it is difficult to catch the same rhythm again.

But John Watson felt that something was stirring in his heart, and he seemed to have some emotion that was difficult to describe in words.

It was a very mysterious feeling, both familiar and strange, both intimate and scary.

But if I had to use words to describe it, the closest description to John Watson's feeling was that it was like returning to the narrow storage room under the stairs of the Salesian Hospital.

The small, narrow, dark room was filled with the smell of moldy dust that had not been cleaned for a long time. Every breath seemed to be inhaling mountains of dust.

But for John Watson as a child, this was a safe little world. At least he no longer had to worry about being bullied, scolded, and beaten while hiding there.

But in my impression, I have never seen this woodland before, so why do I have such a feeling?

At that time, John Watson didn't think too much about how a person could retain a clear consciousness in a dream. He just silently moved in a certain direction, as if he had determined the destination and moved forward with all his strength.

He crossed twisted roots as thick as railings, stepped on soft and juicy dark green moss, and saw some bizarre species that was neither human nor beast flashing through the shadows of the tree roots.

So far, the dream is not considered absurd, just an ordinary fantasy dream.

But when John Watson was walking aimlessly in his dream, the development of the dream suddenly became bizarre.

The dark woodland suddenly resounded with the clanging sound of weapons clashing, and the ancient giant trees shuddered at the sound. Those giant snake-like roots suddenly shot up from the ground, twisting wildly like dancing!

The thick roots seemed to turn into the flexible tentacles of an octopus, twisting to help the heavy tree body lift away from the dark soil.

The ancient iron-colored tree bark covered with ravines over time even revealed tree tumors that looked like human faces. The human-like facial features of the tree tumors seemed to be roaring furiously, just like the tree soldiers who protect nature in ancient myths!

This group of ancient tree people staggered towards John Watson, their sharp branches swaying left and right, as if they were wielding swords to chop at the ignorant sinner in front of them.

Faced with this sudden change, John Watson in the dream seemed extremely rational. He only felt that after diving into this dream, his heart became calmer, as if all the restless, random thoughts and unstable elements in his emotions had been exhausted. All.

Faced with the siege of a group of ancient tree people, John Watson was calmer than ever before, perhaps the calmest ever in his life. He could even calm down and observe the speed and trajectory of the ancient tree people, so as to deduce the most suitable escape route. No, it’s the best way to fight back!

When the thought of resistance emerged in his heart, the perspective of the dream also switched to a third-party perspective that seemed to be viewed from the sky - he became a simple spectator, an immersed person who could empathize with the stage actor's anger and murderous intent. audience.

John Watson looked at himself reaching behind his back and pulling out a long sword with a rugged and piercing blade that shone with cold light. Now that he thinks about it carefully, he always feels as if he had pulled it out from his spine at that time. A weird spinal cord sword.

He held the deformed spinal sword with one hand and just stood there quietly waiting for the ancient tree man to approach.

In John Watson's third-party vision, he saw these soldiers transformed from ancient giant trees, although they looked huge and imposing.

But in fact, the movement is quite slow. It takes a full 1.6 seconds just to lift one leg and land on the ground. The speed of waving the sharp branches is as slow as an old woman waving a spoon. Only some ancient tree people throw The attack speed of the iron-black fruits on the branches is slightly faster, but you only need to pay attention to the movement of the ancient tree man's hand, and you can easily dodge it.

John Watson looked at his extraordinarily confident self, dodging the attacks of the Ancient Tree Man as if he was playing and teasing. Sometimes he would raise his hand and strike with a swift strike, cutting off the horrified and stunned Ancient Tree Man. Break.

But before John Watson could kill all the invading tree men, a white and bloated figure suddenly jumped out from behind him.

It was a creature that looked like a snowman built by children in winter.

The snowman consists of two snowballs, one large and one small, forming the torso and head respectively. The small snowball head is not made of the old-fashioned stones and carrots for eyes and nose, but simple lines of facial features are drawn with ink... That face seemed to be that of a cute and cute little girl.

The limbs are four slender birch branches. A slender carrot like a sword hangs from the branch on the left arm, while seven small iron-black fruits hang from the branch on the right arm.

The little snowman who suddenly joined the battlefield first waved his right arm and threw out three iron-black fruits, hitting the foreheads of the faces of the three ancient trees.

And that carrot stabbing sword flashed back and forth among the crowd of ancient trees like yellow-red thunder. In just two breaths, all eighteen ancient tree people had been cut into pieces.

The splintered sawdust splashed onto John Watson's face, and the consciousness from the overlook also experienced the feeling of the milky white sap splashing all over his body as if he was experiencing it.

I don’t know why, but John Watson in the dream at that time felt a sense of warmth from the ancient tree fragments that hit his skin. This warmth penetrated into his body along the pores, as if there was something intangible. A mysterious amount of power poured into the body.

His soul seemed to be trembling slightly, and his bones seemed to be ringing with the clang of swords.

He couldn't help but stick out his tongue to lick the warm sap from his face. The taste... was really nostalgic!