Faced with this incomprehensible and horrifying scene, the man was stunned for a second or two, then he suddenly let out a loud scream, threw the wine glass away like crazy, and dodged to the side.

The glass fell to the ground and shattered in an instant. The remaining wine splashed on the floor like blood. The surface of each drop of wine seemed to instantly reveal a faint flame and a gloomy and majestic face. The man staggered back and almost tripped over the sofa beside him. Finally, he held on to the wall to stand firm.

He was breathing heavily, staring at the broken glass and gunpowder on the ground, his heart beating as if it was about to explode. The symbiotic smoke jellyfish was swimming chaotically and blindly in the air beside him, gradually shrinking into a strange ball.

The horrible reflection had disappeared from the broken glass and the candles on the ground. What had just happened seemed to be just a terrifying illusion. The man gasped hard, trying to calm himself by breathing in more fresh air. A less firm delusion gradually emerged from the bottom of his heart. Perhaps it was really just an illusion, or perhaps he was just too nervous...

"It's all hallucinations, it's all hallucinations... It's the mental inaccuracy caused by the influence of the warp..." He muttered to himself quickly, giving himself psychological hints while drawing strength from the symbiotic Abyssal Demon to build a spiritual defense, "Stop associating, stop recalling, avoid connecting, avoid connecting... Holy Lord, give me protection, let me live forever in the Abyss, Holy Lord, give me protection..."

"I appreciate your optimism," a voice came into his ears, "but blind optimism will not solve the problem - relax, I just want to understand some situations from you."

The man suddenly stopped praying. The voice ringing in his ear was like a horrible whisper from the warp, gripping his mind with substance. He slowly turned his neck in stiffness and looked in the direction where the voice came from, only to see that it was the glass on the wine cabinet - a faint green flame was quietly burning in the glass, and the ghost returning from the warp was reflected in the flame.

“Get lost!”

A surge of courage surged up from nowhere, and the Annihilation Cultist suddenly became ruthless. He waved his hand to absorb the power of the smoke jellyfish and threw a dirty, dark, corrosive sphere at the wine cabinet. With a loud bang, the entire wine cabinet was blown to pieces by the energy ball, and glass fragments flew all over the room.

However, before the fragments could fall to the ground, the terrifying figure appeared again on a mirror in the corner of the room: "Have you vented enough? If so, let's talk it over."

The cultists in the room finally discovered the pattern - it was the mirror.

That subspace ghost can invade here through the mirror!

The next second, the man smashed the mirror in the corner of the room without hesitation, and then frantically smashed the glass ornaments on the nearby shelves and everything that could produce a mirror within his sight!

Sharp sounds of glass shattering rang out in the room. What could be smashed was smashed, and what could not be smashed was covered up with newspapers, clothes or anything else they could find. Fear turned into anger, and anger turned into false courage. Supported by this "courage", the cultists moved quickly, blocking and destroying all the "medium" in the room that could cause the "arrival" of the subspace ghost. During the whole process, the rising green flames and the terrifying figures that kept flashing in the mirror almost constantly entangled him.

There are always new mirrors appearing, new voices coming, and new faces emerging into the field of vision, looking at oneself gloomily.

But after an unknown amount of time, this terrible entanglement finally came to an end.

The man destroyed or covered up almost everything in the room that might reflect something, and blocked all the windows with thick curtains. As the last glass vase was thrown into the trash can, the building fell into silence again.

Darkness had fallen outside the house, and in the room there was only the dim light of the oil lamp. The horrible green color had faded from the flame at some point. The cultist in the room stood in the middle of the mess, gasping for breath and being alert to the darkness and silence that surrounded him.

It really seems like it will never appear again.

Even the smoke jellyfish that lived in symbiosis with it had calmed down, but it looked a little listless, and the smoke floating around its body seemed especially thin and dim, as if it had consumed so much energy in the previous confrontation that it could hardly maintain its form in reality.

The man stood silently in the darkness for a long time, as if he was carefully judging something. After a long time, he slowly exhaled, reached out and grabbed the black coat thrown on the sofa, and quickly put it on.

There was a lot of noise in the room just now, which may have attracted the attention of the neighbors. Although the sheriff's response is always slow in such remote neighborhoods, as long as someone reports it, there is a chance that trouble will come.

What's more, this room has been targeted by the subspace ghost and is no longer safe - destroying and blocking the mirrors in the room will only block the channel for the ghost to "descend", but it is impossible to fundamentally eliminate the ghost's influence.

Now the ghost was temporarily blocked outside the real world by himself. Before the sheriff could react and before the ghost found a way to invade here again, the only right choice was obviously to leave here as soon as possible.

The man had quickly planned his next move. He put on his coat, hid his symbiotic demon, and then walked towards the door.

But before leaving the room, he suddenly stopped and looked at the pile of miscellaneous items covered with newspapers and rags in the middle of the room.

He thought for a moment, then waved his hand and threw out a ball of dark energy - newspapers and rags were blown away, and a large pile of broken mirrors and glass that had been covered up before were scattered on the floor, emitting a cold and ominous glow in the dimness.

“It would be best if someone reported it.”

The man smiled with satisfaction, then he no longer dared to look at the mirrors scattered on the ground. He turned around, quickly opened the door, and flashed into the night outside.

He moved cautiously through the streets, taking cover from the shadows of the buildings and occasionally using the power of spells to conceal his figure. He quickly moved away from this no longer safe area and ran towards the downtown area along the familiar route in his memory.

It is now curfew time and guards have appeared on the streets. If you rashly go outdoors, you will most likely be caught and questioned. However, this is not a big problem for a cultist who has been active in the city-state for many years and has long adapted to the "night life".

As long as they don't make too much noise, there are plenty of "blind spots" right under the noses of those church defenders.

The figure hidden in the darkness successfully passed through the checkpoints between the urban areas and entered the more intricate ancient alleys in the lower city. He bypassed countless forks and bends, and finally stopped in front of an ordinary-looking old house.

The man carefully observed the surrounding environment, and once again confirmed that the strange green fire did not appear in his field of vision, and there was no suspicious noise in his mind. Then he breathed a sigh of relief and walked forward and knocked on the door several times in a regular manner.

Then he waited patiently until he heard footsteps approaching on the other side of the door and a muffled voice reached his ears:

"It's late, let's talk about it tomorrow."

"It was late at night, and my traveling companion and I just wanted to go in and rest our feet - we brought some interesting stories from afar."

It was quiet behind the door. After about ten seconds, a slight clicking sound was heard. Then the door opened silently in the darkness. In the dim light, a thin and small figure appeared at the door.

"Come in, don't make too much noise."

The man nodded, quickly slipped into the house, and closed the door casually. With the sound of the door lock clicking, he finally breathed a sigh of relief, with a look of relief on his face as if he had survived a disaster.

"Why are you here at this time?" The thin figure who was responsible for opening the door was still carefully looking at the "compatriot" who had just entered the room. Although his identity had been confirmed, the other party's actions did not conform to the "rules", which made him alert, "We did not receive your advance contact."

"The situation is sudden," the man in the thick black coat shook his head and lowered his voice, "My action failed. An unexpected higher being intervened. Now He is targeting me - but don't worry, I have temporarily blocked His channel to enter the real world. The most urgent task now is to report this matter to the higher being..."

The thin cultist's expression instantly became serious when he heard this. He immediately stopped the other party from continuing to speak, picked up an oil lamp on the table next to him, and walked to the corner of the room while whispering: "Follow me, go underground, and don't discuss our actions in front of the four gods."

"good."

The thin cultist opened the secret door in the corner of the room, and two figures, one in front and one behind, went into the secret ramp leading to the underground.

Soon, they arrived at the assembly hall located below the building.

Although it was called a meeting place, it was actually just a secretly excavated basement. In the not-so-big room, there were a few chairs placed around a round table with a few oil lamps lit on it. There were also some instruments and materials used for rituals and heretical worship placed in a messy manner.

At the end of the room, you can see a dark sculpture. The sculpture is shaped like a strange and terrifying "tree". The dark trunk divides into thorny, dizzying branches, which emit a faint disturbing atmosphere.

The man in the black coat walked down the stairs and saw several figures gathered there. They were obviously his "compatriots" who had followed the procedure and entered the basement urgently when he knocked on the door just now.

His eyes swept over these "compatriots", and the latter also raised their heads and looked at the visitors who came after nightfall with scrutiny.

After a while, the slightly tense atmosphere relaxed a little. The man in the black coat exhaled, walked to the round table, and sat down on an empty chair.

The closest person to him, a man with yellow hair and a sickly face, looked up at him, and after a moment of silence, he suddenly asked, "Are you in trouble?"

"I failed to break through that 'dream'. There must be something wrong with the information given by those End of the World preachers. Damn it, I should have known earlier that no one is trustworthy except the followers of the Lord..."

"Speak slowly and calm down first." The man with a sinister face forced a smile and took a glass of water from the side and pushed it over, "Drink some water."

The man in the black coat took the cup of water and exhaled: "Thanks, Duncan."