Indeed, she admitted that she felt guilty deep down, and it was extremely strong. The date of death engraved on the tombstones of all the members of the Hitzfeld family is the same day as the day she opened the box, so it is very likely that her actions caused all of this to happen, and she is the culprit of everything. But... but... Hitzfeld felt his body begin to gasp for air. But that church, that box…box, there were almost no defenses around them… If it was something that could cause such a disaster, would its prevention be so lax? 【What are you talking about...】 [Isn't there a magic circle engraved around the magic box to prevent evil spirits? ] [No one else can take the magic box off the altar...] [Only you...]
[Aisun Hitzfeld...] 【You 'Pandora'! 】 The girl almost suffocated. Just when she was about to suffocate, she felt a warm force pulling her out of the abyss of despair and regret. "Well!" She suddenly opened her eyes, supported herself on the edge of the bed with one hand, lowered her head and began to retch violently. "Slower." Ethan was beside her, carefully punching her back with his fist. "Don't worry, don't worry. It's normal to fail the first time. You will get better after trying a few more times." "Ethan...Mr." Hitzfeld took a breath and suddenly looked up at him. "how?" "I have a question. Regarding entering the so-called dream world, are you guiding me... into a sleeping state?" "Ah? You figured it out?" Ethan raised his eyebrows. "Indeed, including the tranquilizing incense, I am here to guide you into a shallow sleep." "Because at this time, people's spirit and consciousness are more 'floating', compared to the dullness of deep sleep in an uncontrolled and disordered state, it is easier to..." "no need." "...What's missing?" "Thank you for your kindness, sir." The girl completely steadied her breathing, stood aside, folded her hands in front of her skirt and bowed slightly.
"I guess I'm not... gifted enough to be extraordinary." She should have thought of this when she first heard Ethan's description. After all, how can you expect someone who can't dream to go to the dream world? -------- I forgot to fix the time, so it's a little late. By the way, this book has been signed. If you think it is good, don’t just keep it to yourself, promote it and publicize it~ Chapter 221 No. Iris Street Ethan was somewhat surprised by Hitzfeld's pessimism. He insisted on speaking slowly while persuading the girl, asked her to close her eyes again and guided her twice to confirm that she was not wrong. She couldn't follow his "spirit" into the realm of dreams. When he went downstairs, he informed Rand and Mrs. Gree of the result. The two police officers were equally surprised, because from the fact that Hitzfeld could quickly discover the evil nightmare that invaded the room and the series of strange experiences she described, her talent for poltergeists should be very strong. The lady was indifferent. "I don't know what's going on." Ethan kept frowning, "I can vaguely feel your willpower. That power can definitely be called a gift... but you can't mobilize it at all, or you can't use it to sneak in there." Because I can't sleep at all, sir... Hitzfeld was also helpless. She thought she knew more about dreams than the average person because she had heard some online lectures on dream analysis. Excluding the conclusions drawn by those "masters", their preliminary scientific analysis in order to package themselves and make their words sound more credible has greatly expanded her knowledge. It made her roughly understand that dreams actually come from the nerve impulses triggered by the "rapid eye movement sleep stage". Human sleep consists of a series of sleep cycles. Each cycle is divided into "rapid eye movement sleep stage" and "slow wave sleep stage". The former will cause dreams, while the latter basically will not. Her current condition is that she cannot fall asleep at all, cannot enter the REM sleep stage, cannot dream, and cannot follow the dream stairs to push open the so-called door to the dream world. Of course, she couldn't say these things. Because of that lie, she couldn't even tell them that she couldn't sleep. She could only try her best to appear calm and send them out at the lady's order. This is also what makes Ethan interesting. It is understandable that Mrs. Glee does not want Hitzfeld to have extraordinary talents for some reasons. However, after having experienced a nightmare and nearly losing her life, and having confirmed that she could not become a transcendent, this girl actually still had the energy to try her best to maintain this normal state... Should we say that she has a really strong psychological quality, or should we say that ignorance is bliss and that this issue is not important to her? "Mr. Ethan."
At the gate, Hitzfeld and the three men stood face to face. "I want to speak to Mr. Ethan alone." Without Ethan's signal, Sheriff Rand put on an "I understand" attitude and pulled Mike to hide outside the wall. "I can guess." Ethan looked at her face, occasionally looking up at the house behind, "You want to know if she was in this system before." "Madam is very kind to me." Hitzfeld said in a slow tone, "She saved me, fed me, clothed me, and taught me knowledge... I don't know why, but I want to give back as much as I can." "What kind of rewards do you mean?" Ethan tilted his head. "If it's just daily life..." "It's the 'not everyday life' part, sir." Hitzfeld's look was determined. "That's why I want to know more about those things, including the murderer who has not been caught by you yet. I want to help." She was very familiar with the background of the photo that Ethan had taken out before - it was the alley at the other end of Caishikou. She could see it by walking to the end of the road, and it was less than 1000 meters away from here. This most likely means that the guy, who is most likely a member of the "Eclipse Church", is still nearby waiting to take action. This was a huge threat both to Hitzfeld himself and to his elderly wife. "I'm afraid you can't help much..." Ethan frowned. "Even for us, we have tracked those guys through the dream world channel and found nothing... I'm sorry, Hitzfeld, I'm not trying to discourage you or show off... But this is really not something a child can get involved in." "I don't ask for too much, I just hope you can tell me some of the information you have investigated." Hitzfeld persisted. This is called retreating to advance. As a tree man who wishes to remain anonymous said, if you first propose repairing the roof, those who oppose opening windows will shut up. She had used this trick once before on Mrs. Glee, and it had the expected good effect. "You're very cunning." Ethan grinned. "Don't think too much. The progress and details of the case must not be disclosed, because it may cause panic... And I can't tell you about my wife's past, which you want to know. These are all confidential." "Practice your shooting well." Before leaving, he took advantage of Hitzfeld's inattention and finally put into action what he had always fantasized about - he reached out and rubbed her soft, gray-haired little head with a faint body temperature a few times. "I hope I can see you grow up next time I have the chance to come." "..." So this is helping me set a flag? The corner of Hitzfeld's mouth twitched. Thank you so much. Just as I was about to close the fence and go back, I heard a commotion erupting behind the wall. He walked out and looked around, and saw Ethan and the other two being blocked by a group of people at the corner of the street.
November had passed, and it was already winter in terms of climate... Even she, who felt a little embarrassed to wear stockings and leggings, had to stick to them due to the cold. These people... most of the people surrounding them were only wearing a sailor shirt. She also noticed that those people all had tattoos on their exposed left arms. Roughly a dog…? No...it should look like a wolf. Standing at the innermost and confronting the three people were two young men who had separated themselves. They were obviously much more excited than the others, moving their lips and saying something while using rich body language. Hitzfeld took a few steps closer. "…Officers! Gentlemen! My patience is really running out!" "Our father... that's in our home! Home!" "He died there! It was unclear why... and you guys still refuse to reveal even a little progress!" “…How can we feel at ease?” "How can the residents of the entire Flo Street feel at ease? Huh?" From time to time, nearby residents or passers-by were attracted to come over to watch, and the situation tended to continue to escalate. These two people should be the Weir brothers. The violent perverts with them should be the Silver Wolf Gang that the lady mentioned. Hitzfeld shook his head and turned away as the argument grew louder. She had no interest in such civil disputes. When she entered the door, she looked up at the building out of habit, and happened to catch a glimpse of a figure flashing quickly in front of the second-floor window. …It seems that the lady is not as indifferent to all these things as she appears to be. She returned home and locked the door. Before she had time to change her shoes, her wife assigned her a new task. "Please, take this letter to the post office across the street." The lady handed her a snow-white letter. Hitzfeld looked at the cover and found that the address was "221b Iris Street, Denton District, Wayne Port". "Do you have friends in the capital?" The girl looked at the lady. She has unconsciously changed the way she addresses her these days. "'There is a friend who is very good, very good... so good that we are almost inseparable and can talk about anything.'" The scene changed, and Hitzfeld was already standing at the window of the post office, nodding slightly as he spoke. "Yes...that's what the lady said."
"Yeah~" The postman Cranly looked at her with a smile, and skillfully pasted the stamp and letter together and put them aside. "You can go back now, little Hitzfeld." "Don't worry, the letter will definitely be delivered, and I will send you the reply as soon as possible." "It's for my wife!" Hitzfeld emphasized.
