Chapter 4: The Devil, the Jackknife, and Rock and Roll [Thanks to the Wise Leader of the New Era]

Chapter 4 Demons, folding knives and... rock music [Thanks to the wise leader of the new era]

Opening his eyes, he lazily climbed out of bed, yawned, and looked out the window. It was still the familiar scenery.

The abandoned smoke surged from the factory and poured into the sky. The gray light could not penetrate the dark clouds.

This is the normal state of Opus. With the progress of industrial level, factories are all over the city. In the rumbling sound of steel, toxic smog can be seen everywhere, coexisting with the city.

Outside the window is the noise of machinery, the noise of the TV next door, the quarrel of lovers on the other side, the sound of slamming doors and quarreling in the corridor, endless, day after day.

This is the result of cheap rent, but Blogo doesn't mind. Compared with the wailing of the black prison, these sounds are simply pleasant and full of life. Sometimes he even leans against the wall to listen to what these people are arguing about.

Get up, wash, and dress.

Blogo's room is very tidy, without too many clutters. The only special things are the sand table in the living room and the record player in the corner.

The sand table is full of chess pieces, simulating the attack and defense of the legion. There are also several stickers on the side, which are full of words, which seem to be the experience of the trader.

The bedroom is also very simple, with only a bed, a table, and a radio on the windowsill.

This is Blogo's home. After leaving the sofa at Adele's house, he has been living here. Sometimes he invites Jeffrey to his house for a drink or takes him to Adele's house to eat cookies made by Adele.

She has always been worried about herself. She thinks that she will not be able to find a job because of her criminal record after being released from prison. In order to reassure her, he asked Jeffrey to pretend to be her boss, which dispelled Adele's doubts, although in a sense, Jeffrey is really her boss.

Jeffrey taught Blogo a lot of things, and the knowledge about the devil came from him, so Blogo always felt that Jeffrey was not that simple, but he would not say anything no matter how he asked, so he had no choice but to give up.

"Who will be the next one?"

He muttered, opened the closet, and it was neatly hung with identical white shirts.

Blogo's "gift" gave him extremely strong recovery ability, so he always didn't care about his own safety when hunting demons, because he couldn't die anyway.

Flesh and blood will not die, but his clothes will be damaged. In addition to paying rent, Blogo's biggest expense is to buy spare clothes. They are of the same style and were bought at a cheap wholesale price.

After packing himself up, he sat on the bed, facing the wall covered with black cloth.

He opened the beer can he bought last night, took a bite of bread, got up, and lifted the black cloth, revealing the covered wall.

The walls were covered with countless sticky notes, many black and white photos, and some cut newspapers, which were fixed with thumbtacks and connected by red silk threads, entangled with each other like a spider web.

Looking at a corner of the spider web, the person in the photo looked familiar. Blogo whispered his name, picked up a pen, and drew a red cross on his photo.

Doron Nord.

This was the last person on the list. Before Jeffrey sent new information, Blogo had nothing to do.

Sitting back on the bed, looking at this "glorious military exploits", Blogo felt very calm and began to think about what to do next.

Then it was... the end of the internship.

Blogo didn't know what his next move would be, whether he would be locked up in the black prison or become a member of Jeffrey, but what was certain was that he couldn't be locked up in the black prison.

Bending over, supporting his face with both hands, he looked like he was in deep thought.

The isolated life in the black cell made Blogo completely disconnected from the world. Even with a year of buffer, he was still a little at a loss. In this city, he had no friends or familiar people. He would usually visit Adele, but with Adele's death, his last contact also disappeared, and he was alone.

There were no demons to be hunted, no relatives to be visited, and as for his family...

Blogo didn't think about it any further.

After a brief confusion, Blogo returned to the living room, picked up a record and put it on the record player, and soon the song sounded.

Perhaps because of the experience in the black cell, Blogo was a person who was easily satisfied, with low material desires. His only hobbies were music and reproducing historical battles with sandboxes.

The rising singing voice was accompanied by noise and distortion, but there was nothing he could do. This record player was a second-hand item bought from the flea market. It was a miracle that it could still run.

Humming a song, Blogo was thinking. This weekend was the end of his internship, and it was time to decide whether he would stay or go. He had to admit that he was still a little nervous. Even during this rare free time today, he didn't know what to do.

"Sure enough, I still can't be locked up again."

After a brief thought, Blogo sighed.

Adele's hatred, suppressing bipolar disorder, the possibility of completing his soul... and the most important thing.

What did Blogo trade with the devil?

He couldn't remember it clearly. That memory seemed to have been deliberately erased. Blogo couldn't even remember the devil's appearance and name. He only remembered the existence of the transaction, and he didn't know the content of the transaction.

According to his memories, when Blogo woke up, everything was over...

In that transaction, Bologo lost part of his soul and became the debtor he is today.

He still doesn't know what price he paid. Is it really just this part of the soul? Or... there are more costs that have been forgotten by me.

Boluogo shuddered. This feeling was really bad. He didn't even know what kind of "debt" he was carrying. He only knew that his soul was missing.

As for why he came to this world, that is an even more difficult mystery.

"So what's the result?"

Boluogo picked up the folding knife and started playing with it casually.

This weapon is very interesting. When it is not unfolded, it is a long metal handle. As the mechanical structure rotates, the metal cover on one side will pop up, and then like a switchblade, the second section of " The "blade" will pop out from the inside, and the first segment of the cover will be reset to become a "handle", and then the third segment of the sharp "blade" will slide out of the second segment of the "blade".

The cold metal lengthened section by section and was placed in front of him, carrying a heavy murderous intent.

Boluogo sighed, waiting was always irritating.

…

As night fell, Jeffrey stood on the rooftop. From here, he could see the building next door, where Boluogo lived.

The outer walls of the dilapidated building were covered with moss and vines, and most of the walls were peeled off and broken, revealing the red bricks and stones.

"Whether Bologo Lazarus can be hired depends on the results of tonight's assessment."

A voice sounded from behind Jeffrey. A tall and thin man walked slowly and stood with Jeffrey, looking at the lonely building under the night.

"I don't think he'll pass, Jeffrey," the man said.

"Why? Just because he is a debtor? Yas," Jeffrey looked at Yas and asked in confusion, "How good he is, I remember I mentioned it to you on the phone."

"I know, but excellence is one thing, and his status is another... I didn't agree with the idea of ​​hiring debtors from the beginning." Yas said unkindly.

Jeffrey didn't say anything. As an old colleague, he could understand Yas's aversion to debtors, or in other words, to everything related to the devil.

"But we really need people like this, people who go beyond common sense." Jeffrey said seriously.

Yas didn't refute anything, or in other words, at this point, there was no use in refuting, as long as he waited for the result to happen.

"The 'Kenshi' has been completely covered. Now that building has become part of the 'Kenshi'. It depends on how Lebius wants to take the exam... To be honest, I hate Lebius more than the debtor. That's it." Yas said.

"Damn Lebius."

Jeffrey also cursed, but it was just a curse. If "Lebius" did all this, he had no right to interfere with it.

"Okay, let's watch the show together."

As said, he put his arm around Jeffrey's shoulders and said casually.

"I bet three hundred dollars that he will die in this test, and his weird self-healing ability can't save him."

Hearing this, a strange light flashed in Jeffrey's eyes, and he slowly raised his head, the pressure on his face disappeared.

"I'll bet you, but I bet he will kill all the guys who get in the way and pass the test."

"Huh? Why are you so confident in that guy?"

Why so confident?

Jeffrey asked with a smile on his face.

"Do you know what Bologo's 'gift' is?"

"Self-healing..."

Yas stopped mid-sentence and realized the problem.

He never knew what Boluogo's "gift" was, and he just relied on the report to think that it was "self-healing".

Seeing his reaction, Jeffrey was extremely satisfied, "Yes, for us, 'intelligence' is the most important thing. Even you have no right to view Boluogo's files."

"What is his 'gift'?" Yas looked a little impatient.

Jeffrey remained silent with a playful look in his eyes.

"However, even if there is no so-called 'gift', I still think he can pass the test." Jeffrey said, recalling the scene not long ago in his mind.

That happened shortly after Adele died.

Jeffrey was suddenly notified that the debtor under his supervision was out of control.

At that time, Jeffrey was already ready to transform Boluogo and take him back to the dark cell, but when he came to the place where he lost control, everything was over.

There were corpses everywhere in the huge warehouse, and a few unlucky ones were hung on the beams. They died tragically. It seemed that they had suffered a lot of torture before they died.

Jeffrey found Boluogo in the corner of the warehouse. He had turned into a bloody man. He didn't know what kind of battle he had experienced, but it could be seen that he was very tired and even the speed of his recovery was slow. It started to slow down, as if it was really going to die.

"Give."

Seeing Jeffrey, Boluogo seemed very happy. The white teeth and the blood on his face made him feel indescribably funny.

He raised his hand and handed Jeffrey a piece of paper.

The words on the list are crooked, full of pain and despair, and the black words are soaked in blood, light and heavy at the same time.

Lists, lists of demons.

Bologo used his knife and blood to pry out the list from the mouths of these villains. Each name was a potential demon who participated in the smuggling of the Philosopher's Stone.

Getting rid of his memories, Jeffrey actually felt a little excited.

"Berogo will pass. Only by regaining his freedom can he move forward, whether it is revenge for Adele or to complete his soul."

Jeffrey murmured.

"Whatever the means, no matter the cost."

In the distance, the "cultivation room" started, and the gray bricks began to move, blocking all the entrances and exits of the building. The fine and complicated patterns emitted a faint light, flickering on the walls of the building.

...

Berogo woke up leisurely from the sofa, rubbed his tired eyes, with a slight headache, and the room was dim.

He never had the habit of taking a nap, because Berogo often slept for the whole afternoon, and when he woke up, it was a lonely night... This feeling was not good. Every time he woke up, he felt like he was abandoned by the whole world.

He stretched and yawned, and before he could completely relax his body, he became alert, and every muscle was tense, like a fully drawn bowstring.

Berogo smelled a smell of corruption.

Evil, twisted, decayed, like piles of corpses soaked in stagnant water, corpse water and blood mixed together, full of mosquitoes and flies, making a disturbing buzzing sound.

The taste is so bad, but it seems extremely delicious to Blogo. Just smelling such a smell makes him faintly excited, and even his blood becomes hot.

Devil.

This is the smell of the devil.

"The soul is our most precious 'origin'. All changes in the soul will be reflected on the body. People who lack souls will appear sick, and people who have completely lost their souls are demons. Their bodies will become an empty shell and decay uncontrollably, just like living corpses. Only by devouring the soul can the body be stopped from decaying and the hunger in the heart be satisfied.

So many times, you can distinguish the existence of demons by smell."

Jeffrey's words rang in his ears. This was what he had taught Blogo. Since then, Blogo has been very sensitive to smells, whether it is incense or stench.

Demons will temporarily satisfy their empty hunger by devouring souls to suppress the outbreak of mania, but they will still have a faint smell of decay on their bodies, which they will then cover up with a lot of perfume.

"Demons?"

Berogo muttered, picking up the unfolded folding knife with a vigilant look.

He didn't know why the demons appeared here, but he knew that except for Berogo, there were ordinary people in this building. Facing the demons, these people had no resistance at all, and they would be killed and devoured.

Although his neighbors were quite annoying, they should not become the food of the demons.

"Am I a savior?"

Berogo muttered to himself.

Opening the closet was like some kind of strange ritual. Berogo put on a white shirt, tied a tie, and tidied his appearance in front of the mirror, looking like he was going to go to work.

Yes, this is indeed work, but to be more precise... it's overtime.

Pulling open the drawer in the closet, it was full of cold folding knives. Berogo liked such weapons, which were both lethal and easy to store. More importantly, there was no excessive noise.

He picked up a few folding knives and inserted them into the tactical straps on the lining, one after another, picked up the black coat, and put away all the deadly edges.

Walking to the door, bursts of decaying stench overflowed from the cracks of the door.

There was no fear on his face, but Bologo was a little happy.

Others might be afraid of demons, but for Bologo, demons represent the fragments of the soul, the possibility of completing the soul, and suppressing the onset of mania.

More importantly, it can be vented reasonably.

Leaving the bedroom, passing by the living room, he picked up a record casually and put it on the record player. The black record began to turn slowly, and the friction rustled.

Pushing open the door, the lights in the corridor flickered. He had complained to the building manager many times, but this guy only cared about the rent and never thought about repairs.

The usual noise was gone, the corridor was frighteningly quiet, and the yellowed walls were covered with messy advertisements. It seemed that in an instant, Bologo was the only one left in the whole building.

In the old building, the folding knife scraped against the wall, making a harsh sound.

Bologo looked at the doors of his neighbors, and saw that the "doors" had disappeared, replaced by gray-white cement walls. Not only his neighbors, but all the doors except for Bologo's room were blocked by cement walls, even the windows.

The whole building was sealed and turned into a cage.

"A killing array only for me?"

It was not clear how the "devil" did this, but Bologo was not nervous, but relieved, which meant that he did not have to spend energy to take care of his neighbors.

Having seen all kinds of extraordinary events, Bologo quickly accepted the current situation.

After all, demons and souls are real, what else is impossible?

Dead silence and stench, a strange chill surged in the closed building, but at this moment, a low bass sound suddenly came from Bologo's room, followed by undulating drums and gradually passionate guitar sounds.

Hot rock sounded.

When Blogo first came to this world, he was very miserable. Entertainment options were scarce and "primitive". The level of technology was not too backward, but when he recalled his past life, it was far from enough.

It is difficult to go from luxury to frugality. This was probably how Blogo felt at the time. But fortunately, there were still some things in this world that Blogo was interested in.

For example, rock music.

"Evil follows you everywhere! Evil sleeps with you! Evil calls out to your desires!"

In the record player, the lead singer sang with all his strength in a hoarse voice.

Blogo also hummed the same melody, holding the cold folding knife, like the god of death wandering at night.