Please draw your way of death

Chapter 91

The players were too frightened to move, and Omilander did not move either. The two sides just looked at each other, stalemate.

Just when the atmosphere was about to fall into a strange silence, Ning Mian finally spoke suddenly.

"I gonna go see."

Meng Qishu looked up at him, nodded and followed him, "I'll go too."

"But only one person can enter the studio at a time." Mu Heng shifted his eyes from Omeland to the two of them, and reminded in time.

"But Omeland doesn't seem to have said that no one can enter the studio when they are painting." Meng Qishu waved his hand at Mu Heng, which was a reassuring gesture, "Don't worry, just go in and check the situation, nothing will happen. of."

When the two walked past Omelande, Omelande really didn't say much.

He only glanced at Meng Qishu who was walking past him with his slightly frowned but emotionless eyes, and acquiesced in their entry.

Omeland's gaze was very strange. Every time his gaze fell on Meng Qishu, Meng Qishu felt that there was something plotting in those ambiguous eyes, which made people feel vigilant.

Ning Mian finally noticed Omilander's planning gaze, he stopped and took Meng Qishu two steps forward: "You go ahead."

Turning around, he happened to meet Omeland's meaningful eyes. The other party seemed to sense the defense in Ning Mian's sight, shrugged his shoulders indifferently, and turned his head to continue looking at his moon.

"Omi Lande seems to be eyeing you," Ning Mian finally said with his blue flame still burning in his hand. He walked beside Meng Qishu, and the flame just lit up the space within three steps between the two of them." Be careful."

"Okay." Meng Qishu responded, glanced at the flame in Ning Mian's hand, and said worriedly, "The cause of that person's death just now may have something to do with the fire, so it's really no problem for you to light the fire and come in like this." ?"

"The opportunity of death is not fire." For some reason, Meng Qishu heard [-]% affirmation from Ning Mianzhong's words, "Fire is only the cause of death, not the root cause. The root cause of that person's trigger of death is probably still there. Those six words that Omelander said."

"Besides," Ning Mian finally paused, and continued, "I always feel that the fire in this dungeon can be manipulated by humans. Use the fire of the function card to be sure."

The fire that Omeland brought to the town with a fire bag before, and the monstrous fire that subsided strangely tonight, seem to show that the flames in this dungeon are not ordinary flames that can be put out with water.

The flame of the function card is completely controlled by the player, and the safety factor is relatively high.

When the two entered the studio, there was no sign of the player in the studio.

Normally, although the fire is very large, there will always be some traces of the player after it burns out.

Like Omeland, he set fire with a fire pocket before, and finally left the player's charred corpse.

But there is nothing in this studio, whether it is a corpse, something brought in by the player, or anything else that can identify the player.

"That player seemed to bring an oil lamp when he came in. Did you find anything?" Meng Qishu stood in the middle of the studio, watched Ning Mian finally turn back and forth along the four walls of the studio, and couldn't help asking.

"I didn't find any oil lamps. This studio seems to be exactly the same as when we came last time." Ning Mian finally moved the flame in his hand a little closer to the easel. The blue flame just illuminated a small part of the easel. There was a bit of thought in his eyes, and he said, "The placement of all the items has not changed significantly."

It is said that before they came in, the previous player had already finished a painting in this studio, even if other things were not moved, but the easel and chair had to be moved, right?

But the fact is that the chair is placed a few steps away from the easel, which is empty and has no trace of use at all.

The distance between Meng Qishu and the chair was not very far. Taking advantage of the faint light in Ning Mianzhong's hand, he walked up a few steps, put his fingers on the back of the chair, and wondered what he was thinking.

"Mian end." When Ning Mian was about to change direction and continue to investigate, Meng Qishu's voice suddenly sounded, and he looked back, only to see Meng Qishu's figure half hidden in the darkness, his slightly raised eyes reflecting the flames. Guang Guang, "I want to try it first and finish a painting in this studio."

Ning Mian didn't agree right away. He lingered on Meng Qishu for a few seconds before saying, "Okay."

But when it was time to go out, his footsteps seemed to be stuck in place, unable to move at all.

Someone just died in this room, and now the body can't be found, and the related items of the deceased can't be found, so Ning Mian is a little worried about leaving Meng Qishu like this.

And... the chance of death.

Ning Mianzhong lowered her eyes and looked at the flame in her hand.

Until all the answers are proven, all attempts are just risks.

So Meng Qishu waited for Meng Qishu to adjust the paint in the dark by the seat, and when he raised his eyes, he saw Ning Mian standing still beside the easel, with the faint blue flame still burning by his hand.

"What?" He smiled and took the canvas up. Although he knew what Ning Mian was thinking in his heart, he still pretended not to understand and asked him, "Would you help me fix the canvas before leaving?"

Ning Mian finally took the canvas he handed over, as if he just came back to his senses, he fixed the canvas on the easel, and said: "You paint first, I will go out later."

"No, from the beginning of painting, there can be no second person in the studio." A familiar voice came from the door, and the two turned their heads at the same time. The appearance of the person at the door could not be seen clearly in the dark environment. But this voice definitely belonged to Omeland!

After a snap of fingers, the randomly discarded paintings on the floor of the studio burned, and the wanton flames lit up the small studio.

With the light of the fire, Meng Qishu could clearly see Omeland leaning on the door frame of the studio.

There always seemed to be that vague smile on his lips, and he leaned leisurely against the door, his right hand was maintaining the appearance that he had just snapped his fingers.

Meng Qishu didn't know when he came in, and how long he watched silently at the door. Although he had a smile in his eyes, there was always a sense of vigilance in Meng Qishu's eyes.

"So, which one are you going to keep in the studio?"

It doesn't matter who stays, but Meng Qishu always seems to have an inexplicable eagerness to stay.

So he was still mixing the paint in his hand one by one, looking at Omelande with undisguised hostility, and his attitude was obvious.

Omelande seemed to understand the choice of the two of them. He turned his gaze to Ning Mianzhong, tilted his head slightly, and smiled deeper, as if to urge him.

Ning Mian had no expression on his face, but when he looked at Meng Qishu, his expression softened a little, but before he could say anything, he heard Meng Qishu speak.

"Don't worry about me." Meng Qishu didn't look at him, but instead put the paint in his hand on the wooden shelf next to the easel, with a slightly teasing tone, "After all, judging from the level of practice in the afternoon, I'm comparable to you Much more reliable."

"..."

Sure enough, Meng Qishu couldn't be more concerned about him for a second.

"If you are in danger, remember to run early." Ning Mian seemed to sigh, and finally instructed.

When the blue fire light of the end of sleep disappeared outside the door, that fellow Omeland hadn't left yet.

Meng Qishu dragged the chair over and straightened it in front of the easel. When he turned his head, Omeland was still leaning against the door frame, thinking about something in his eyes.

"Do you want to keep the lamp on for me?" Meng Qishu stomped out the cluster of small flames burning in front of the easel, put one hand on the back of the chair, and said without any emotional fluctuations with his eyes slightly sideways.

This means chasing customers.

"It's not really, it's just..." Omelande dragged out his tone slowly, his smile deepened suddenly, he stretched out his hand and made a snapping motion in the air, "Have you ever folded your chopsticks?"

Meng Qishu didn't know why, so he just looked at him in silence.

"Or anything else, dry branches, wooden sticks..." Omelande looked at him, and murmured a few words in a low voice, but with the meaning of talking to himself, "Use force to force How do you feel when you see them break?"

"Does this have anything to do with the task I'm about to do?" Meng Qi wrote expressionlessly.

Omeland smiled and said briskly, "No."

"Then maybe, you can try to fold the steel pipe," Meng Qishu smiled without emotion, with a slight mockery in his tone, "experience what it feels like to fold continuously."

Omeland, who had hit a snag, was not annoyed, and still smiled, but he had no intention of staying here any longer.

He got up from the door frame, rubbed the fingertips of one hand twice, and took two steps back: "Then I won't bother you, I wish the mission a success."

In an instant, all the flames in the room were extinguished, and the originally brightly lit room instantly became pitch black, with nothing visible.

Meng Qishu could hear Omeland's footsteps walking outside the house. He closed his eyes, put one hand on the back of the chair, turned around and sat down in front of the easel.

Relying on the directions in his memory, Meng Qishu successfully got the paint tray set aside.

The moon and sixpence...the moon...ideal...

What is the "ideal" that Omeland wants...?

Meng Qishu daubed the paintbrush on the canvas, his thoughts were still floating in the air.

In the pitch-black environment, without sound or light, the voice in my heart seemed to be amplified extraordinarily, echoing in the borderless darkness.

Omeland is not Strickland, but they both have the same essence.They are all the same kind of people, all pursuing some illusory things and abandoning reality.

Meng Qishu didn't understand Strickland, nor did he understand Omeland.

He had seen the stories of these two people, but he still couldn't understand what they wanted.

The author says:

Pen name warning: The next two will be slightly abused~

Simply post an update notice today: There will be [-] each from Friday to Sunday~