Please draw your way of death

Chapter 90 The Moon

Omelander is a very strange person. He paints pictures, but he doesn't care about the finished pictures.

His paintings are always thrown away after they are finished, piled up in a corner of the room, and never asked again.

So it's not so much that Omelander refuses to show others his works because he treasures them, it's better to say that he doesn't care.

When the painting is finished and the passion is over, he discards it like a shoe, pats his buttocks and devotes himself to the next painting. What happens to the previous works is no longer what he has to worry about.

It is in line with the information they got about Omeland before - he is dissatisfied with those works, very dissatisfied.

When he came out of the restaurant, Meng Qishu suddenly felt a sense of confusion and helplessness.

From entering the dungeon to the present, they have obtained too much information about this dungeon, but it is fragmentary, but they have not analyzed anything.

Omeland's life experience seems to be a very important piece of information, but until now, apart from these superficial things, it seems that it is not a simple matter to dig deeper.

"Do you think...the word 'Moon and Sixpence' has any connection with Omeland's past?" Ning Mian finally said suddenly on the way back to the hotel.

"Maybe there will be..." Meng Qishu was arranging the various information of the dungeon in his mind. He listened to Ning Mian's last words and murmured something casually. However, the next second, he paused, reacting to Ning who looked up at the front. At the end of sleep, "Wait."

"In The Moon and Sixpence, what do these six words mean?"

Ning Mian finally didn't seem surprised by Meng Qishu's reaction. He turned his body and said calmly, "Ideal and reality."

The moon is a lofty ideal, and sixpence is a humble reality.

"Then..." Ning Mian finally paused, her voice softened, "Which one do you choose, the moon or sixpence?"

In fact, it doesn't matter which one to choose, the copy has already given the answer.

Meng Qishu smiled, and felt that his whole body was soaked in a kind of enlightenment, and those messy thoughts before were suddenly untied: "What did Omeland choose?"

Ning Mian finally didn't answer his words, but just watched him quietly with positive eyes.

Speaking of this point, in fact, there is no need to continue, there is only one answer that can exist.

Omelander chose the moon.

What is the copy task?

Complete a painting as requested by Omeland.

So now the theme of the painting is determined, the moon in "The Moon and Sixpence" is the ideal.

Then a new problem arises, how to express the ideal through painting?

Draw a moon?

"I have to give it a try. Anyway, I don't have any other ideas now. Why don't we try it at night when the house No. 520 appears." Meng Qishu finally decided, "But before that, I think we need to practice how to live in total darkness. painting in an environment."

At night, there is no light in house 520, and if you bring your own fire, you can only light up a small space, so it is a bit troublesome to draw pictures.

So when he got back to the hotel, Meng Qishu pulled the cloth that Ning Mian finally tied his head with.

"Hiss, can you be gentle?" Ning Mianzhong's hand was still behind his head, Meng Qishu's hand touched it, his knuckles hooked into the other's palm, and he scratched twice in dissatisfaction, "It's too tight."

"Don't be tight, it will slip off if you move casually." Ning Mian was finally hooked by him with one hand, and then freed up the other hand to arrange the cloth strips around his ears so that the cloth strips would not press Meng Qishu's ears.

"But it hurts." Meng Qishu lazily hummed twice, but he didn't have a temper. With the other hand, he fumbled for the paintbrush on the bed, but it didn't go so smoothly because his vision was blocked, so he opened his mouth again. Calling people, "Ning Mian finally..."

In the middle of the call, something long and cool was suddenly stuffed into his hand, which immediately blocked the second half of Meng Qishu's request in his throat.

"The brush is ready, and the drawing board is right in front of you. What else do you need?" Ning Mianzhong's voice sounded beside him, and Meng Qishu couldn't help but bend his lips when he heard it.

This kind of tacit understanding from the soul, no matter when and where, makes him soft-hearted.

"Hmm..." He pondered for a while, then said with a smile, "Can you mix another paint for me?"

The sound of the end of Ning Mian did not resound, only after a rustling sound beside him, another thing was stuffed into the hand of Meng Qishu who was waiting quietly.

The same flat, round thing.

Meng Qishu held the paint tray filled with paint in the palm of his left hand, and just as he raised his right hand to move, he suddenly paused as if thinking of something, and said again in a tentative tone: "...End of sleep?"

"What's the matter?" Ning Mianzhong's voice was a little helpless, but he still answered patiently.

"I want to draw a moon first, where did you squeeze the yellow paint?" Meng Qishu's voice was filled with a slight smile, and when he was blindfolded and asked Ning Mian for help, his whole body revealed a kind of complete trust , "I can't see."

"..." Ning Mian finally seemed to sigh.

In the next second, Meng Qishu felt his hand being held by the person beside him, leading him in one direction. Ning Mianzhong's voice came close to his ears, low and helpless: "Here."

Facts have proved that it is indeed somewhat difficult to paint blindfolded.

After experiencing all kinds of difficulties and dangers, Meng Qishu tore off the strip of cloth in front of him, and when he turned his gaze to the canvas in front of him, he couldn't help but smile.

The colors are messy, as if they were randomly smeared on the canvas with a brush dipped in paint. If he didn't know it in advance, even he himself wouldn't be able to see what the painting was about.

"You moon..." Ning Mian, who was watching the whole process, held back for a long time. Seeing Meng Qishu tearing off the cloth strip, he finally let out a muffled laugh from his lips, "It's quite abstract."

Meng Qishu nodded his head a little, and rarely objected to Ning Mianzhong's teasing.

He reached out to take off the canvas on the drawing board and replaced it with a new one. He looked back at Ning Mianzhong with a threatening smile in his eyes: "Now it's your turn."

"..." Ning Mianzhong's expression froze on his face, and he couldn't smile for a moment.

Can we discuss this again?

But no matter how much she resisted, Ning Mian was finally pressed in front of the drawing board by Meng Qishu, and half-forcibly tied cloth strips over her eyes.

The last thing Ning Mian finally drew naturally did not give way to Meng Qishu, and Meng Qishu mercilessly mocked him for this.

After tossing around like this for a long time, when the two of them reached the top of the mountain at night, they still failed to learn how to draw a complete picture while blindfolded.

But compared to before, it is always a bit of progress.

Just like when they came last night, walking through the path leading to the top of the mountain, a wooden house with house number 520 was displayed in front of them.

Meng Qishu and Meng Qishu didn't come early, so when they arrived at the destination, there were already several players waiting outside the house, and Mu Heng and Wen Shi were naturally among them.

"Why are you staying outside the house?" Meng Qishu took two steps forward to meet Mu Heng and the others, and asked, "Aren't you going in?"

"Omeland said that only one person can enter the studio at a time. A player has already tried to enter the studio just now. The next person can only enter after he comes out." Wen Shi said.

Meng Qishu raised his eyes to look in the direction of the door of the house, and saw a faint light dangling in the darkness through the wide open door.

Although the light is not particularly bright, it is still clearly discernible in a room that is so dark that you can't see your fingers.

"He brought fire in?" Ning Mian finally noticed the direction Meng Qishu was looking at, and couldn't help asking.

"Yes, it's very dark in the studio. They brought oil lamps from the small town." Mu Heng nodded, "Otherwise, I wouldn't be able to draw anything in the studio."

Meng Qishu didn't move, his gaze was still fixed on the faint light of the fire in the house, his expression was somewhat serious.

For some reason, he always felt... It seemed a bit of a bad omen.

Omeland was rarely absent today. He leaned against the wooden pillar in front of the door, lazily raised his eyelids to look at the moon, and turned a blind eye to the players around the house.

Meng Qishu turned his eyes while staying at the door, and put his eyes on Omeland.

It has to be said that when Omelande was not looking for trouble and stood quietly on the side, he had a rare taste that was pleasing to the eye.

In the next second, a vision suddenly appeared, and a cluster of menacing flames burst out of the house, and the fire was so powerful that it directly engulfed the entire roof!

Meng Qishu didn't notice it for a while, and was shocked to take two steps back. When he realized it, the flames had already illuminated the entire open space around the house. The burning house is farther away.

Only Omelande did not move. He looked up at the sky and retracted his gaze, then lowered his gaze to the half-burned house beside him.

I don't know if it was because of Omeland's action or something else, the moment his eyes fell on the house, the fire gradually died down.

After a few seconds, the fire subsided completely, and the house was completely dark again.

But the strange thing is that even though it had just been burned by a fire, the wooden house has no trace of fire at all, and it is still exactly the same as when the players saw it for the first time.

Omelander looked away from the house and turned to the players with a smile on his face: "Now the next person can enter."

Having just experienced such a horrifying scene, the players were all in shock. Looking at that house was like watching a scourge, and no one dared to enter.

If there were no accidents, there was absolutely no possibility of that person surviving the fire just now.

But why?

What is the cause of death?

Is it because of the lights, or for some other reason?

Is it possible that just because a painting was not completed according to Omeland's intention, the player's next way of life was directly cut off?

The author says:

How about... update it tomorrow?