Card--

The old fingerprint lock was slowly unlocked.

He Ao held Jia Qian in one hand, held the crutch in the other hand and carried the suitcase, and gently opened the door.

There was still silence in the room.

"The alarm system is operating normally."

Eve's words ringing in his ears meant that this house was not attacked during the time that Ho Ao left.

He Ao closed the door, carried his granddaughter to the back room where his son had lived, put the sleeping girl on the bed, and covered her with a thin quilt.

He took a look at the familiar scenery in the room, sat next to his granddaughter, and leaned against the wall.

He placed the crutch in his hand against the corner between the bed and the wall, and placed the suitcase beside the bed.

He just leaned against the wall and narrowed his eyes slightly.

He Ao was not mentally exhausted, but his body was very tired.

For an old man who is close to seventy years old, two days in a row without rest, almost non-stop fighting, and serious injuries, even if his physical fitness is very strong and he is constantly absorbing the energy around him to practice, he is still a little unsustainable.

Living.

As the vision in front of him gradually faded into darkness, his spirit slowly became silent.

I don't know how long it took, it could be hours or minutes, but his ears were filled with manic and chaotic dance music.

The hazy and dark world gradually becomes brighter.

The weird and unpredictable rolling hills of Mo Lake appeared in his field of vision.

He stretched out his hand, wanting to touch the scene in front of him, wanting to lift his legs forward, but his body did not respond.

A hazy plastic film seemed to be hanging in front of his eyes, cutting off the contact between him and the hills.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't break through this film.

The noisy dance music echoed in his ears, and the repression of being unable to control his body caused an angry mania to grow in his heart.

This mania drives him to destroy, destroy, and kill.

These turbulent emotions kept passing through his heart, but like violent waves crashing into the towering mountains, they could not really stir up He Ao's emotions.

He Ao calmly stared at the hills in his field of vision. These hills had almost no fixed appearance. Every time he blinked, the scene of these hills would be completely different from before.

Sometimes what changes is the number of hills, and sometimes what changes is the location of the hills.

Sometimes these hills are as bare as the Gobi Desert, with decayed skulls blown up by the gentle wind and sand, and sometimes they are covered with green vegetation, with the roars of animals and the cries of birds echoing among them.

The only thing that remains unchanged is the seemingly endless hills.

In the changes of this scene, these twisted hills gradually evolved into twisted lines in He Ao's vision.

These lines are winding and undulating, just like the strings touching the origin of the world, outlining the melody of exploring the truth.

The noisy and chaotic dance music seemed to become soft and beautiful under this twisted melody.

It was as if at this moment, he was peering into the truth of this world.

At this moment, he seemed to have regained control of his body. As long as he took a step forward, he could become one with the truth and gain a glimpse of the most essential knowledge of the world.

However, He Ao did not take this step.

At this moment, he understood that what he saw now was not the real winding hill, but the reflection of the winding hill left in his heart.

In other words, it was the pollution left in his body by the winding hills.

The being who created the Winding Hills didn't really leave nothing behind, but the things he left behind were more secretive and more likely to drag people into hell.

He Ao closed his eyes slightly and began to search for the connection between consciousness and body.

"Grandpa?! Grandpa?!"

The soft, slightly crisp childish voice kept ringing in his ears.

Following a violent falling feeling, He Ao suddenly opened his eyes.

At this moment, he was no longer sitting on the bed, but standing in front of the wall, with his hands on the white wall.

The originally clean and tidy wall paint was now painted with a very short winding trace, and some dry paint powder appeared in the cracks of He Ao's fingernails.

It seemed as if he had just made this scratch in his sleep.

He Ao took half a step back and stared at the scratches on the wall.

This scratch did not show anything extremely special, but when He Ao stared at this scratch, his mind naturally completed the scene of the scratch extending out.

At the same time, those chaotic and noisy dance music also rang in his ears.

If he had just chosen to 'walk' into those meandering pollutions, what would appear on this wall at this moment would be a complete painting.

"grandfather?"

Jia Qian's confused voice came from beside her again.

"It's okay, grandpa is too tired."

He Ao smoothly smoothed the mark, turned his head, looked at Jia Qian who was sitting on the bed and looking at him nervously, and smiled, "Just take a rest."

"oh!"

Jia Qian nodded in understanding, then she seemed to remember something, jumped out of bed, put on her slippers, "Grandpa, please wait for me."

Before her voice could even finish, the figure had already disappeared outside the door.

"This kid."

He Ao laughed dumbly and shook his head.

Then he thought thoughtfully, picked up a piece of white paper and a pen, and sat at the desk.

He imitated the marks on the wall just now and lightly drew a sinuous stroke.

Immediately afterwards, the distorted image extending from this line appeared in his mind again.

This image is not completely static, but is made up of three-dimensional, twisting lines.

And the noisy and chaotic dance music that echoed in He Ao's ears seemed to be part of this image.

The tip of He Ao's pen slid rapidly. He was relying on the artistic skills he had gained from Wei An to try to 'copy' a certain moment of the image in his mind.

And as the copying gradually continued, the distorted image seemed to be gradually becoming easier to 'understand'.

But just when he was about to fully understand this image, He Ao stopped writing.

All the noise and chaos stopped at this moment and returned to silence.

He Ao lowered his head and stared at the painting.

This is a painting composed entirely of twisted lines and irregular blocks. The painting is not finished, and there is a small blank space in the lower right corner.

This incompleteness greatly weakened the "meaning" of the painting, but even so, while looking at the painting, He Ao felt that there were noisy and noisy murmurs blasting in his ears.

According to the 'classification' of the Clan of Evolution, this incomplete painting should belong to the highest level and can help the fusion of C-level pollution monsters.

And if He Ao completes this painting, then he may be able to get a painting of the same level as the one on the ceiling of the Shadow Cutting Man, which can directly lead people to madness.

But that means that He Ao needs to completely integrate into those 'pollutions'.

He put away his hand, folded the painting in his hand, picked up the lighter on the side, lit the painting, and put it in the ashtray.

It seems that the 'listener' may have also entered the winding hills.

As the raging flames rose, He Ao's eyes also passed through the flames and saw the books placed side by side behind the flames.

He gathered his thoughts, raised his bracelet thoughtfully, and opened the photo of the scene where his son was found that Yin Xiya sent him.

He stared at the line of social security card numbers written on the ground.

The social security card number of Sito's son Kawi is 152-45-1351, and this nine-digit number is split into two parts, written by Kawi and his wife respectively.

The number written by Kawei was 1524, and the number written by his wife was 51351.

These nine numbers are not completely parallel, but go up and down crookedly.

Ho Ao had long realized that these numbers might be wrong, but he had not had time to think carefully about what they meant until now.

If divided according to the top and bottom, among the four numbers written by Kawei, the position of 14 is not much different at the top, and the position of 52 is not much different at the bottom.

Among the five numbers written by Kawi's wife, the positions of 5 and 3 are not much different at the top, and the positions of 1, 5, and 1 are not much different at the bottom.

If you look at it this way, the numbers divided into four areas, upper, lower, left and right, are divided into one group. The upper two groups of numbers are 14,53, and the lower two groups of numbers are 52,151.

The flame in the ashtray gradually burned out, and He Ao's eyes fell on the book sandwiched in the bookend behind the flame.

When Kawei was very young, he learned the library's numbering method and numbered each floor and book of his small bookshelf.

But as the novelty wore off, he was too lazy to number each book anymore, but the numbers on each floor of the bookshelf were still there because they were engraved on the bookshelf.

He Ao's hand was once again placed on the books in the bookend.

One thing about Kawei's numbering that is slightly different from common sense is that the first level of his numbering is not on the bookshelf, but on the desk.
To be continued...