Oh My God! Earthlings are Insane!

"What's this?"

Meng Chao's consciousness swam over curiously.

It was discovered that at the bottom of the memory database of the saint of ancient dreams, there is actually a huge and shining "balloon jellyfish".

Compared with the dim memory cells around.

This memory is both clear and profound, and it can be called detailed and unforgettable.

Moreover, from the surface of the "balloon jellyfish", a large number of tentacles-like things grew out, which were connected to the depths of the ancient dream saint's brain, continuously sending a lot of information to the ancient dream saint's soul.

"How can it be?

"The memories stored here should all be fragmented and vague memories of the ancient dream saint before she was four or five years old.

"No one can still clearly remember things before the age of four or five when they are in their teens or twenties."

Meng Chao concentrated his subconscious mind and observed carefully.

It was discovered that the surface of this memory cell was covered with a faint red light.

It's like a flame that is fueled by blood.

Above the flames, there are also a lot of mysterious and complicated ripples, like ripples of runes.

"This...is not the original memory of the ancient dream saint!

"It's a false memory carefully fabricated by someone implanted in the depths of the ancient dream saint's brain!"

Meng Chao's subconscious mind suddenly shrank.

He felt that he had found the key.

Without hesitation, Meng Chao immediately released a hair-thin "thinking touch" from his subconscious mind.

Let the tentacles of thinking gently pierce this imaginary memory.

This is a world without color.

But with 256 levels of black and white, it accurately outlines a vivid nightmare.

Meng Chao, who was deep into the nightmare, first heard the rumbling crows, one after another.

What came into view was groups of crows, flapping their black wings, circling swaggeringly over the village, eager to eat the corpses of the rat people.

The village shrouded in crows has become a dead zone.

There are plague-infected and miserable corpses everywhere.

There are also all kinds of snakes, insects, rats and ants, as well as fungi that are moistened by spiritual energy and whose cell activity is a hundred times stronger than that of the same kind on the earth. Dancing frantically.

Those who are still alive are also tortured beyond recognition by illness.

With pustules all over his body and wielding his deformed and twisted limbs, he dug a big pit at the entrance of the village like a walking dead, and threw the corpses of his relatives into it one by one.

Although they knew very well that with their meager strength, it was impossible to dig the tomb so deep and bury it with so much soil.

After they died too, it would not take long for the crows and hyenas to drag out all the corpses and eat them up.

But still they dug and buried numbly, sluggishly, in vain.

For, besides, there is little they can do in the face of a cruel fate.

In the whole village, there was only one sallow and thin girl who was not infected with the plague.

However, facing the unrecognizable home, the villagers walking like corpses, and the corpses of relatives covered with insects and creepers, she also felt deep confusion and fear.

It was as if an invisible plague had invaded her brain, infecting the soul of her who was just born and hadn't seen the world clearly.

The little girl could only tightly hug the puppy doll woven from the most delicate branches of the mandala tree, and shut her eyes tightly.

Naively thinking that as long as I close my eyes long enough, when I open them again, all disasters will pass, dead villagers and relatives can be resurrected, and everyone's life will return to the original state.

It's a pity that when she opened her eyes again and again, except for more and more villagers who were digging and digging beside the tomb, they fell into real corpses, and the living people around them became more and more dead. Other than that, nothing has changed.

Finally, all the villagers except the little girl died of the plague.

Apart from her sobbing through the puppy doll, and the high swollen abdomen of the corpse bursting with "slaps, slaps" due to the overexpansion of corpse aura, there was no other sound.

The little girl finally couldn't take it anymore.

From sobbing to crying loudly.

She rushed to the side of the tomb full of the corpses of her relatives and fellow villagers, took over the tools used by the villagers before they died, and dug desperately.

Nor did she know what the point of the work was.

It's just that the edge of the tomb is at least a little closer to her relatives and friends.

But those nasty crows are the most bullying.

When the adults were still alive, the crows only dared to hover in mid-air, but did not dare to land, for fear that the adults would blow their brains out with slings.

After discovering that the little girl was left alone in the village below, the crows screamed almost mockingly, fluttered their wings, and landed on the pile of corpses. flesh.

"Go away! Go away!"

The little girl waved the bone shovel made of branches and bone fragments with great force, trying to disperse the crows.

The rash move angered the black birds.

Dozens of crows flew towards her, viciously pecking at her delicate skin.

In addition, the craftsmanship of the bone shovel was rough, and the center of gravity was too forward, which caused the little girl to lose her balance when she swung it vigorously, and even stumbled and fell into the grave filled with hundreds of corpses.

A mountain of dead bodies.

Dancing crows.

There is also the severe pain from the wounds all over the body that were pecked out by the crows, and the flesh was ripped open.

All add unforgettable details to this memory.

"Yezi told me that a super plague broke out in the hometown of the ancient dream saint. Everyone, including her parents, died. She was the only one who survived and embarked on a turbulent, difficult and dangerous road to fate. .”

Meng Chao thought to himself, "It seems that this memory was left at that time, and it's not completely fabricated.

"It's just that, even if a four- or five-year-old child really experienced the tragedy of family ruin and death, it's impossible for him to remember it so clearly, including the crow hovering above his head, and the hungry and vicious temperament is portrayed vividly.

"It's not a memory at all.

"It's a carefully fabricated imagination mixed with real memories!"

At this moment, the little girl who fell into the grave in the dream screamed.

On top of her head, all the crows had condensed together, turning into a ferocious black dragon with wings covering the sky and fangs interlacing like swords and halberds.

The black dragon opened its bloody mouth wide and rushed towards the little girl, as if it wanted to swallow her and all the corpses of her relatives.

Just in the nick of time.

There was a flash of red light behind the little girl, and a bunch of scarlet flames shot out unexpectedly.

The scarlet flame is like a long sword made of condensed blood.

It directly pierced the bloody mouth of the black dragon.

It pierced deeply into the black dragon's body along the throat.

Hundreds of unstoppable sword glows were also stirred up.

Rip the black dragon to pieces and resplit it into hundreds of panicked crows.

These crows flapped their wings desperately, trying to run wildly like headless chickens.

But before they could fly into the sky, the bloody long sword had turned into a scarlet flame again, overtook and devoured them, turning all the crows into bright fireballs.

The flower-like fireballs of the celestial maiden illuminated the world in black and white, and painted strong colors in the bleak world.

The little girl who survived the catastrophe turned her head inch by inch.

Seeing the corpses piled up like a mountain behind him, they also became colorful and extremely gorgeous.

Perhaps it was because of the plague that all the corpses grew a thick layer of creeps on the surface, and all the creeps were endowed with colorful colors.

Or maybe, these corpses are the relatives, friends and neighbors that the little girl is most familiar with, and they are the only people she can trust and rely on in this world.

In short, the colorful mountain of corpses did not bring the little girl the slightest sense of fear.

On the contrary, it gave her a strong sense of security and dependence.

It's like a living, real mountain.

"Don't be afraid, my child."

A voice came from the vibrant mountain of corpses.

It's a very warm female voice.

As soon as people hear it, there will be smoke, a warm stove, and the sweetness of roasting Datura fruit.

The little girl's eyes widened.

Realized it was Mom's voice.

He had already died in the plague, and his father buried it with his own hands. The corpses were covered by creep, but it seemed to be covered with a layer of colorful veils, and the voice of his mother was still so beautiful!

"Don't be afraid, my child!"

A second voice came from the vibrant mountain of corpses.

It is a thick, firm, and tough male voice.

As soon as people hear it, they think of hard sweat, hearty laughter, and a broad mountainous back and arms thicker than the trunk of a mandala tree.

It's Dad's voice.

He hugged her tightly in his arms until he couldn't breathe, and told her that there was nothing to fear, that the plague would pass soon, and that they would be able to survive.

It was spitting at the sky, shouting wildly at the pile of corpses, encouraging all survivors, and fighting the damn plague to the death.

But weeping silently in the dead of night, biting the branches of the mandala tree to suppress the howling of grief and indignation, the day before he died, he tried his best to force himself to squeeze out the voice of the smiling father!