As Hoffa stood up.

Finally, the picture played in the cinema was paused.

Then, a dark figure stood up from the chair in the front row of the cinema. When did a person sit there? Hoffa asked himself, he didn't even know that the guy didn't make a sound the whole time.

But when the man turned around, Hoffa was still shocked and took a step back.

Through the light of the cinema screen, he could clearly see the appearance of the man, with a half-bald head, wrinkled skin, and golden eyes. He was in his sixties and was none other than Lao Huo, who had shot himself in the head.

Fa, he was standing quietly in front of him at this moment.

When Miller saw that guy, he was more surprised than when he saw little Barty killing his father more than a dozen times. He moved his thigh and the coke spread all over the floor.

"It's you!" Hoffa said in horror: "You're not dead?"

The old man shook his head, "You have the wrong person."

"But you..." Hoffa pointed at him and was speechless, puzzled.

"ah,"

The old man smiled slightly and shook his head: "Don't get me wrong, this is a trick played by the God of Death on life. I am not the person you imagined. I am just a replica of the God of Death. Like the two previous guys, they are all fakes.

Nothing, only you are the real Hoffa Bach."

Miller, sitting next to Hoffa, looked relieved.

Hoffa didn't dare to relax. He tensed up and looked at the old man in front of him, and said warily: "You look much more awake than those two."

"Yes, gods sometimes can't control their creations, especially when it comes to my level."

The old man looked at his palm and said lightly with appreciation: "He gave me too much power, which gave me a certain degree of freedom."

As he spoke, the dark cinema opened around like a cardboard box. The bright sunshine fell from the dome, the streets rose from the ground, the colorful parasols opened, and the bright beach appeared at Hoffa's feet. A breeze blew by, and he

We found ourselves wearing tropical Hawaiian shirts with Miller on a beach filled with coconut trees and beauties in bikinis.

At the beach, the old man handed two cups of smoothies to Hoffa and Barty Jr. There were lemons and small umbrellas on the smoothies.

Hoffa blankly accepted the gift from the old man, completely unaware of what medicine he was selling in his gourd.

The old man was wearing sunglasses, sitting lazily near the mobile ice cream stand, looking at the waves in the distance, and casually asked: "You just watched the movie for so long, so tell me, Hoffa, why are you so small?"

Barty will definitely kill his father."

Hoffa didn't know why the old man asked him this question, but he still thought for a long time and said:

"It's very complicated. Old Barty seems to be a workaholic, and he looks down on his son very much. And little Barty can't make his father face him through legitimate means. So... tragedies will happen again and again."

"Is it just that simple?"

"Is there any other reason?"

Hoffa was puzzled.

"Destiny." Miller said from the side.

Hoffa: "What?"

"Children will always subconsciously imitate the personalities of the people closest to them, whether they want to or not."

Miller took a bite of the smoothie and said, "Their father and son are so similar, they are exactly the same. The only difference is that little Barty was unlucky and followed Voldemort. If Voldemort had not fallen, he would have become the same person as his father."

"

"That's not right." Hoffa frowned: "I think almost all of Barty's hobbies are the opposite of his father's."

“I’ve heard that only doctors who have a thorough understanding of men’s bodies are qualified to perform sex reassignment surgeries on men.

He must have understood that his father knew the extreme, so he could make the completely opposite choice, but as everyone knows, the opposite of extreme is still extreme. The reason for their tragic fate may be precisely because of this extreme character."

After saying that, Miller sighed: "Poor guy."

"Is he right?" Hoffa asked the old man puzzled.

The old man just shook his head: "I don't know, I just asked out of curiosity. What you said makes sense, but unfortunately there is something missing."

Hoffa: "Can I also ask a question out of curiosity?"

"Ask."

"What kind of game is this? Do you win, or do I?"

Hoffa asked the question he most urgently wanted to know. This was his last opponent. According to Avada's words, as long as he won, he could leave Helheim with Aglaia.

But the old man shook his head with a wry smile: "If you believe that this is the God of Death playing a game with you, you can't win, just like a gambler can never win against the banker."

Hoffa shivered, feeling cold from the top of his head to the soles of his feet.

The old man closed his eyes, took a sip of juice intoxicatedly, and murmured suicidally: "Can you do me a favor? Hoffa Bach."

"Wha...what?"

"Come here." The old man waved to him.

Hoffa tilted his head.

I just heard the old man put his head next to his ear and whispered,

"I can help you leave Helheim, but under the power of death, I can only buy you three minutes. During these three minutes, all the factors that are unfavorable to you have been transformed into dreams by me, but

Within three minutes, you must rush to the exit of Helheim's Path of Thorns and leave here."

Hoffa's heart skipped a beat and he wanted to move his head.

But the God of Nightmares grabbed his arm and said in an inaudible voice: "Help, don't follow that man's old path."

After saying that, the old man with gray hair and golden eyes in front of him instantly collapsed and turned into pieces of broken glass, along with the surrounding tropical beach scene, all shattered.

...

...

When he opened his eyes again, Hoffa returned to the mysterious realm of death, standing in Aglaia's crypt.

The time didn't seem to last long, it might have been a few minutes, or it might have been only a few seconds.

Aglaia was still picking at the stone cabinet with an expressionless face.

Little Barty got up from Hoffa with a confused look on his face, rubbed his eyes, and looked at him as if he was sleepy: "What happened, Bach first, I... I seem to have fallen asleep."

Three minutes!

Hoffa thought about what the old man said to him in the dream, his heart pounded and adrenaline secreted crazily. He immediately rushed to Aglaia and spoke very fast:

"Is that flying big-eared rabbit still there? Let me use it. I will take you to the path of thorns."

When he said this, his whole body was shaking with excitement.

But Aglaia looked at him, and for the first time her blue eyes, which had always been invisible, showed some other emotion, which was the sympathy and sadness of a cub in the rain.

"Let's go!"

Hoffa tried to grab her hand, but it passed through her body.

"Where do you want to take me?" she asked calmly, "Are you resurrecting me again? Don't think about it. There is no container to carry the soul. I can't leave the underworld."

"Damn it! Don't you know how to refine your body?"

Hoffa pointed to the big crucible, "How many people have you made bodies for, why don't you make one for yourself?"

Time passed minute by minute, three minutes passed quickly and more than ten seconds passed, but Aglaia said unhurriedly:

"The body I refined can only last for one day, and it will decay in one day. When the time is up, I will come back here. It's meaningless, Hoffa. You can go wherever you want, leave me alone, I have already

Dead."

"That's not your fate!" Hoffa said excitedly: "That's Grindelwald's conspiracy!!"

"Colleague, that's your past too, accept it."

Hoffa: "No."

"No?"

Aglaia's tone rarely contained a hint of excitement: "Do you remember Sisyphus pushing the stone? Do you remember Prometheus whose heart was eaten out by a vulture? Do you remember Peverell who kept jumping?

!?

These are heroic spirits among humans, and they want to fight against the God of Death just like you. Think about their fate, don’t you understand?”

Time passed quickly during the conversation, and Hoffa was extremely anxious. At this juncture, the girl was actually unwilling to leave at all. He stamped his feet anxiously,

"I'm sorry, I can give up on other things, but I can't give up on this.

They lost the game, I did not lose, none of the three opponents destroyed me, I will not be hung on the path of thorns."

"Didn't lose?"

Aglaia's cold expression finally relaxed. She knelt down without warning and said in a desperate trill: "You think you didn't lose every time, but did you win again? Hoffa, you still haven't

Do you understand? Just like them, you are also repeating the fate of an infinite cycle!"

"What?" Hoffa opened his mouth in shock.
To be continued...