Chapter 287

The scalpel rotates between Aoki's flexible fingers like a pen. Zhao Pengcheng felt the fluctuation of spiritual power on the blade. He understood that Aoki was teaching him how to exercise and gather strength.

The strength of the blade is getting heavier and heavier, but if you don't pay attention to it, you can't feel it at all. This technique is obviously much better than Zhao Pengcheng's gorgeous concentration with blood.

Aoki was playing with a knife and squinted at the prison guard next to him.

The prison guard was sensitive and alert to the knife in his hand. If it hadn't been explained above, he would have gone forward and confiscated the knife. Such things are never allowed in the prison. Don't look at such a small piece. The sharpness of the scalpel can make it easy for prisoners to kill or commit suicide. It is more terrible than an ordinary dagger.

Zhao Pengcheng looked at the expression of the warning and wanted to laugh. Is this a dream or is it true? Or is it a real dream like sleepwalking?

"Tell me about you," Aoki said.

Zhao Pengcheng said, "I don't know whether the last decades of my life are dreams or real, but since you can see, you should already know what I know. So you can believe that I don't know much, because I didn't have any memory before parasitic on this poor doctor."

"So where did the first memory of your race come from? If the parasite itself had no memory." Aoki asked while playing with a knife, "is it the ancestor you said? How did he pass on racial information or orders to you? Does he rely on the dream corridor?"

"Dream Corridor? You mean the one that trapped you?" Zhao Pengcheng said, "We didn't have the same language as you humans before parasitism, so this thing doesn't have a name. If we have to have it, we call it 'channel' - it can connect our conscious space, which is what you call dreams. The name of 'Dream Corridor' you said is very good and appropriate. There are ancestors, which I just created according to the habits of Chinese language A word. "

"Does it mean like the old black mountain demon? Ha ha..." Aoki laughed.

Zhao Pengcheng also smiled. Although he didn't read much movies and novels, the old demon of Montenegro knew it. Although the metaphor was inaccurate, it was very vivid and funny. It made him seem to see the appearance of his ancestors at once, but in fact, they didn't look like before parasitism. They were just a group of floating consciousness bodies, and their appearance was more ethereal and invisible than ghosts.

As soon as they smiled, the prison guard next to them became more and more nervous as if frightened. He warned, "control your emotions and don't be too loud."

Aoki glanced at the prison guard, put away his smile, winked at Zhao Pengcheng and asked, "how many corridors are there?"

"I don't know. Only important people can have it anyway." Zhao Pengcheng also put away his smile and felt that Aoki blinked, but he couldn't understand it for a moment.

"So your position in your ethnic group is also important?"

"No, I was assigned to a channel only because I performed a special task."

"Is Ronald Cohen your leader?"

"It's like this on earth."

"In other words, he is not an old demon of Montenegro?"

"No."

"Since the number of dream corridors is limited, the members of the dream club must have a place to meet in reality."

"Yes."

"You don't have an address in your memory. You shouldn't have attended a party?"

"Yes."

"Then, can you go to such a party?"

"But I'm in prison. I've been sentenced to life."

"I can get you out."

Their unscrupulous chat made the police nearby angry and warned loudly again: "pay attention to your words!"

Aoki ignored the police and continued, "I can not only get you out, but also let Yu Jianguo go."

Zhao Pengcheng's heart beat for a moment and said, "OK, but there is always a reason, otherwise they will doubt."

"Well, think about it." Aoki's blade turns faster and faster. It seems that he is trying hard to think about the reasons for releasing Zhao Pengcheng and Yu Jianguo.

The prison guard's warning didn't work and his face became gloomy and ugly.

"Can you still use that dream corridor?" Aoki asked.

"Yes," said Zhao Pengcheng, "if you want to use it, you can also give it to you."

"No, no, I don't need it," Aoki said. "It will arouse their suspicion, and I don't need it. But can you tell me about its principle?"

"Principle..." Zhao Pengcheng thought and said, "this thing doesn't seem to be created. It exists naturally."

"Aren't you sure?"

"Not sure."

Aoki nodded and threw the scalpel in his hand: "this is your knife. Give it back to you."

The knife fell on the table in front of Zhao Pengcheng and restored its original luster, just like the ordinary scalpel in the hospital operating room.

Zhao Pengcheng reached out to pick it up, but found that the knife was so heavy that he could hardly lift it. He knew it wasn't a real scalpel. It was made in a dream. He doesn't know whose dream he is in now. His own is still Aoki's, but Aoki's spiritual power must be condensed on the knife. When he pinched the knife with his fingers, the power surged into his body.

The prison guard nearby shouted, "you are a prisoner, and the knife is prohibited. Don't touch it!"

Zhao Pengcheng hesitated, but his fingers still held the scalpel. He saw Aoki wink at him secretly again, with a meaningful smile on his face.

He seemed to understand something and looked up at the prison guard.

The prison guard glared at him and said, "what are you looking at?"

Zhao Pengcheng understood, smiled knowingly at Aoki and said, "I'll tell you a secret."

Aoki said with a smile, "what's the secret?"

"About Ronald Cohen's secret base in the South Pacific..."

Before Zhao Pengcheng finished, the prison guard next to him shouted "shut up!" then pulled out his pistol and aimed it at Zhao Pengcheng's head.

But before his finger pulled the trigger, the scalpel in Zhao Pengcheng's hand had flown out.

The power of this knife is more fierce than the one he stabbed at Qingmu in his dream. The space is like being torn, and there is a twisted crack of light and shadow.

The scalpel gasped into the guard's throat.

The guard's hand trembled as he held the gun. His fingers tried to pull the trigger. After all, he couldn't exert any force, so he fell down softly.

The energy scattered in the space slowly re condensed. The scalpel returned to Zhao Pengcheng's hand, and then disappeared into his body. At that moment, Zhao Pengcheng was in a trance. He felt that the surrounding space shook. A thin film like shell was stripped off and fell into the darkness like a collapsed dream, but the world in front of him did not change.

He knew that he had returned to the real reality, and Aoki sat opposite him.

"It doesn't matter. There is surveillance here. We haven't done anything," Aoki said.

Zhao Pengcheng looked at the prison guard lying underground and knew that he had taken a really important step. Whether it was right or wrong, it was impossible to look back.