Chapter 7

The Crying Stick Man looked at the two people in front of him who were in love with each other, and without hesitation, he controlled one of them. The lucky one who was chosen was Zhang Caixia.

Zhang Zhaoxia may not care about the paradise, and may not care about Xuan Yesian, but he cannot help but care about his own sister. Zhang Caixia grew up with him. They lived in the same room, went to the same school, stood on the same award podium, expressed similar feelings, and proved their abilities to the same people. He cannot help but care about Zhang Caixia.

Zhang Zhaoxia glared at the crying man with a stick, wishing that she was the one being controlled.

But the Crying Stick Man certainly wouldn't give him the chance to take his place.

The camera of the live broadcast room was also moved to this dormitory.

But this time the protagonist of the live broadcast was temporarily replaced by Zhang Caixia who had lost consciousness.

Everyone saw with their own eyes how Zhang Caixia froze, how she gradually lost her expression, how her angry eyes were gradually filled with unspeakable darkness, and how her body gradually stiffened and she became like a living puppet.

Xuan Yesian had already run back from the window. If she was still by the window, she was worried that she might accidentally fall down, or be controlled and jump down, and it would be hard to say what would happen.

She also thought about whether to jump down. If the abyss she saw was real, she would die if she jumped down. If it was fake, she couldn't see the real situation, and her landing posture was wrong, so she would still die, and it might even be considered suicide.

She didn't want to die like this, so she turned around and rushed back to the dormitory where two people were already lying on the ground. Without paying any attention to the people on the ground, she stared straight at the nervous Zhang Zhaoxia and the stiff and cold Zhang Caixia opposite her.

She realized that she was safe for the time being.

She immediately covered her mouth and nose in ecstasy to avoid attracting attention by making too loud a sound.

She quietly curled up her body, ready to find a secluded place to hide. After all, the dormitory was not small and there was more than enough space for a quiet person to hide.

But the Crying Mourning Stick Man certainly didn't give her this chance to rest in peace.

Xuan Yesian suddenly felt an uncontrollable itching in her throat and chest. She started coughing uncontrollably, covered her throat, and pounded her chest, but it was all useless. Her coughs became louder and she couldn't hide them anymore. She could only cough until she was dizzy and felt like she was almost coughing up blood.

She could only be thankful that except Zhang Zhaoxia, no one else was still awake.

The Crying Stick Man doesn't count because it's not a person.

The live camera shifted to Xuan Yexian's face again. The audience in the live broadcast room could clearly see every pore and every hair on Xuan Yexian's face. Even her small moles and pimples could be seen clearly. Everyone could see it, but Xuan Yexian knew nothing about it at this time.

Her face turned red from coughing, and even her neck seemed to have become twice as red and thick. She frowned, but it didn't help at all. She felt like every organ in her body was contracting, as if a huge hammer was hitting her head. She could hear a buzzing sound like insects in her ears, and bursts of clanging sounds, like someone passing by beating gongs and drums.

Xuan Yexian hoped very much that someone would really pass by her playing gongs and drums, so that she could legitimately ask for help, and then find a way to throw the gongs and drums on the ground and crush them, and push, kick, or shout away the person playing the gongs and drums. In short, she wanted the people around her to disappear, so that she could be quiet and safe.

However, there was no one striking the gong.

Only the crying bereaved man was looking at her. She was trembling with coughing and almost lying on the ground. Her back was sweating profusely and her clothes were sticking tightly to her skin, rising and falling with her breathing. She was like a poisonous toad covered with bumps and breathing under a layer of white human skin, indescribably creepy and beautiful.

She was still coughing and her consciousness was becoming increasingly confused.

Zhang Zhaoxia, who was standing at the door, could clearly see that her body had become stiff and her skin was faintly bluish. This was definitely not the appearance of a normal person.

The Weeping Stick Man's gaze shifted to his face.

He then lost consciousness.

The door opened with a click.

The door opened by itself; no one reached out to touch it. It slowly opened the world outside to the audience in the live broadcast room. It was pitch black outside and filled with onlookers who seemed to be watching a fun event. Those people looked like black ants swarming in a nest, or like little ghosts standing on their own graves and looking out.

Even if you were not there, many people could feel the noisy atmosphere with the sound of discussions looming.

The crying man walked out, and everyone was shocked.

Most of the people outside were students. When they saw the crying mourner, they thought it was some students who had bought a set of fashionable clothes and dressed up for fun. Some of them laughed out loud, while others were frightened and quickly hid back in their dormitories with frowns on their brows. They reached out to close the door, but it was stuck and they could not move at all. It felt like a rusty iron chain, and blood began to flow from their hands.

At first they thought the blood was dripping from the door handle, but after a closer look they realized that it was their own fingers that were bleeding. A layer of skin had been torn off, and their entire arms were shaking, but their brains did not immediately feel the pain. It was like an old man wearing only a single layer of clothing in the coldest days of winter, trembling as he walked forward and fell without even realizing it.

Some people started screaming, but it was no use. Some people started running, but found themselves lying on the ground, but they had no memory of how they got there.

They wanted to climb out, but in the process, they lost consciousness. The last thing they thought of was that something hit their head. It was so hard...

Half of the people knew that they should be afraid at this time and planned to escape through the window, but they couldn't even open the window.

Half of the people didn't know what was going on and thought they had agreed to play dead together. Some of them lay on the ground laughing, while some looked at the approaching crying stick man without paying attention. They snorted, stretched out their hands and waved them in front of them nonchalantly and asked, "Brother, where did you buy these clothes? They look good and have a good feel, but they don't look very good. Why are they so dirty?"

The Crying Stick Man didn't answer, but a gentle smile broke out on his pale and smooth face. Warm blood dripped out from the wound, fell to the ground, and quickly froze, turning into a red ice block with a light blue surface, which fell to the ground with a sound.

The students who were nearby were stunned for a moment. No matter how brave they were, they felt something was wrong. They were a little scared and took a step back, bumping into the wall. There was a bang and they lost consciousness. They were either lying on the ground, bleeding, or crying loudly. From then on, the crying officially started.

Zhang Caixia's voice was the loudest and sharpest, followed by Xuan Yexian.

Zhang Zhaoxia's voice wasn't very good, but she followed behind like a moving pot of bubbling potato soup.

He is probably the only one here who is still trying to emit heat.

Everyone in the entire building lost consciousness and followed the Weeping Stick Man, walking forward step by step, down the stairs, opening the door, and walking outside. They walked farther and farther, and little by little new people gathered around them, becoming even larger and more terrifying.

Countless people are crying, countless people are laughing, the laughter is hidden behind the crying, looming. When you listen carefully, there is nothing, but when you don't pay attention, you can hear that provocative and arrogant voice continuing to ferment.

A bottle of wine can only be opened when it has fermented to the right time.

A group of people have to cry at the right time before they can laugh.

They walked forward, crying like screams and suppressing laughter. Bright red wounds gradually appeared on their white throats, and blood oozed out little by little, like beautiful tiny blood beads. If you didn't pay attention, you might mistake them for red, tight decorations, but if you thought they were decorations, you might mistake them for blood.

Their throats were about to break.

In unison, they uttered hoarse sounds with their split throats, which were unclear at first and then unified.

The Weeping Stick Man directs them with his sole consciousness, like a conductor's baton at a concert.

They shouted grimly: "Deal, deal, deal..."

The Crying Stick Man is looking for someone to trade with.

But this is a transaction that has been agreed upon but has not yet appeared.

The Crying Mourning Stick Man was not found, and the sharp roars of pain spread throughout the city, centered on the crowd.

I can’t sleep tonight. The live broadcast has ended. People in the city can feel the final ending sound. They wanted to rest, but after hearing that sound, they couldn’t fall asleep at all. Some people were so sleepy that they closed their eyes and fell into a semi-comatose state of sleep. In their dreams, they saw a terrifying crowd, and suddenly their bodies shook. They opened their eyes, woke up, and sighed helplessly.

Everyone has black circles under their eyes.

Even if they did not go to the scene to join the huge and loud parade, they knew what those people looked like after they lay down, because even an outsider could clearly see the group of people lying down after closing their eyes. It was a complex shape, but everyone who saw it knew what it meant: transaction.

This kind of untaught understanding is like an exchange of consciousness.

No one can refuse to communicate, no one can resist interaction. They are like puppets in a toy factory being manipulated by higher-level forces. They have no right to choose, let alone the ability to see the truth.

Uncontrollable panic began to spread from this city, like a highly contagious virus transmitted through the air.

There is no need to meet, a shadow can become a medium.

【Everyone is crazy】

[What exactly is that thing being traded for? ]

[Should we trade things or people with it? ]

[Everyone knows that, it is definitely not a human]