Really are…… Well - because the news of her killing a nightmare spread, the residents of the entire Flo Street favored her... but she didn't like the feeling of being treated as a treasure wherever she went. “How long does it take to go back and forth?” She suddenly turned around and asked another question. "We have to sort them first." Cranly explained to her patiently, "After sorting, send them separately. The ones going to Port Wein will generally take the 10 o'clock train tonight. If nothing unexpected happens - I mean that good friend will reply immediately after receiving the letter. At the earliest, tomorrow... no, before getting off work the day after tomorrow afternoon, at the latest, you can see it the day after tomorrow morning." Because the "Eternal Night" post office is closed. "Yes, thank you, Mr. Cranly." "You're welcome, Hitzfeld." After doing all this, the girl returned home again and saw that Mrs. Glee had changed into a new black dress, and had also added shawls, hats, brooches and other items. "What are you doing?"
She couldn't help but wonder. "Preparation before going to church." said the lady. "Did you forget that today is Saturday?" "The week before the advent of 'Eternal Night'." "I suggest you go upstairs and take another shower now." Chapter 17: Night Worship Walking on the night road, Hitzfeld followed the lady closely. She wore a pure black dress, which was longer than the previous ones, revealing only her ankles. Like the lady, she wore a black shawl, a black hat, and a rose brooch made of white gauze. Almost everything on her body was changed except for her underwear and two pairs of white silk stockings. I raised my head slightly and looked around, and saw that the road was full of people traveling with me. The men wore formal suits and the women were dressed the same as her. No one spoke, and even the footsteps were very quiet. Hitzfeld asked his wife and learned that they had the same destination as their companions - the "Cathedral of the Goddess of Machinery and the Sun" located in the center of the city. Walking is to express devout faith, so no one dares to take any means of transportation on the pilgrimage route, and everyone must walk. Fortunately, cities in this era are still not too big, and you can take a car on the way back... After taking two breaths, Hitzfeld felt a little resentful. In order to prepare for the week, she asked her wife for a guide to buy a road map before leaving the house. After reading the complicated traffic conditions in New York City, she came to the conclusion that the distance from No. 12 Flo Street to No. 1 Sunday Street was roughly equivalent to 10 stops on a modern city bus. The number of bus stops will vary depending on local conditions, but the fluctuation is not large, and it is roughly this distance.
This is definitely a difficult task for her. She had no physical talent at all, and according to her lady's ridicule of her during training, "she wasn't even half as strong as the average girl of her age." And she hasn't slept for six days. The inability to sleep didn't seem to have any effect on her physical functions, but her spirit was inevitably exhausted. Just as she had recalled the principles of dreams before... In addition to helping restore mental and physical strength, human sleep also bears the important task of processing and memorizing information. During the REM sleep stage, the brain processes procedural memory. During the "slow-wave sleep stage", the brain processes "declarative memory". The shooting training she received these days, which are action and physical skills, all belong to "procedural memory." And more knowledge learned through books and oral narration by wives, such as the grammar of Sarai, all belong to "declarative memory." Sleep strengthens these memories. As an insomniac, Hitzfeld has felt that her learning efficiency is rapidly declining from the initial "rapid progress". Although she insisted on washing, going to bed and taking a nap for a while every day like repeating a ritual, except for occasionally hearing more whispers, it was not very effective in relieving her mental fatigue. So you can imagine. A person who is physically fine but physically weak and mentally hasn't slept for six days, you want her to take bus No. 11 to walk 10 stops? When they were almost there, even the passers-by around them could clearly notice that Hitzfeld was not in a good condition. Her mouth was slightly open, her face flushed as if she was drunk, her body swayed with every step she took, her hair at the temples were stuck together with sweat, and she looked extremely weak and disheveled. "Miss, do you need help?" "Excuse me ma'am, but this lady..." "We have a lady who can carry her on her back, so it shouldn't be considered a violation of the commandments." The lady refused all offers of help. Hitzfeld was unimpressed. Anyone who has run long distances should know that during the period when one’s physical strength is exhausted, it is difficult for a person’s spirit to be easily affected by external information. She is in almost this state now. You can hear your pounding heartbeat and feel the soreness and pain from the soles of your feet every time you take a step. But she could hardly feel anything else. The surrounding sounds, images, even the uncomfortable feeling of wearing sweat-soaked underwear, all seemed to move away from her like a dream. He took another step in a daze. The body seemed to have passed through a thin barrier.
Very familiar description, very strange feeling. It was like I had suddenly arrived in another world... At this moment, due to the lubrication of sweat, the black eye mask she had been wearing slipped slightly, revealing her golden left eye. What's this? It was as if a layer of image was covered in front of my eyes. It’s similar to…using the multiply function in a drawing software to overlap two paintings with similar backgrounds but different details. Moreover, it is dynamic. Almost instinctively, Hitzfeld closed his right eye. This is equivalent to the original film being pulled out. With this golden left eye - an eye that she had judged to be nothing special these days - she saw a strange scene that she would never forget. Under the neatly arranged street lights, pedestrians in black walked on the pilgrimage road, with their heads lowered, their faces pious, and they kept making circles and crosses on their chests. The night fog spread from both sides of the sidewalk to the middle of the road, touching people's shoes and trouser legs, trembling with the rhythm of the wind, forming a translucent and hazy shadow above everyone's head. There are a lot of them. Very big. Countless shadows gathered in the air, rising higher and higher... blocking the lights and the moon, making the scene even more gloomy and dark. It was a dark grey fog, with countless human, animal and strange shadows overlapping and moving in it. Distorted faces stared at the crowd with excitement and bloodthirstiness, crowding madly and extending their slender claws to people from a distance. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk…” "Hehehehehehehehe..." It seemed as if something was floating and brushing past me, emitting a series of strange and cold laughs. "Killing..." "crazy……" "Eat... I'm so hungry..." "revenge……" "Protect……" "cost……" "strength……!" Countless whispers suddenly amplified in his ears, and Hitzfeld shuddered. She immediately came to her senses and slapped him in the face.
"Snapped!" The scene before my eyes remained unchanged. The noise in my ears did not disappear. This...isn't an illusion! ? She was shocked. "What on earth is this..." "Madam! Madam!!!" He turned around and called Mrs. Glee, but no matter how Hitzfeld shouted, Mrs. Glee and the people around her remained indifferent. It's as if they can't feel these things at all. "Today is Saturday, I hope everything goes well tomorrow..." "You must keep a close eye on that naughty boy Joey. Don't let him sneak out to play again..." "Goddess, please bless me and keep my family healthy and safe..." "Will the tragedy on Flo Street continue like the previous two cases? Why haven't the people in the capital taken action yet..." The noise continued, increasing in volume and getting louder. Do not…… The girl closed her eyes completely and covered her head in extreme pain. This is too much... Too dense... It was like a thousand or ten thousand people repeating and arguing in her ears, and her already weak spirit could not bear such stimulation. If this continues, she will go crazy. She felt her spirit was reaching its limit. Just then, a scene appeared before her eyes. It was a dark alley, with two blurry shadows standing in it. what is this? They seemed to be having a conversation, and she struggled to make out what was being said over the noise. "The third sacrifice...well done." "My duty." "But you have already attracted the attention of those people, which is inconsistent with what you said before."
"There's nothing I can do about it. I didn't know she was so familiar with Ayn Rand." "That's an excuse." "……I'm very sorry." "Forget it. It was my mistake not to find out that she had met Ayn Rand before... But fortunately, the impact is not that big now." "Aren't they here already?" "But not for us, dear... They are already suspicious and on high alert, but most civilians still think it's an ordinary murder."