Chapter 333

London.

Broken cauldron bar.

There were several people sitting in the shabby oil black storefront. One of them was a middle-aged man with bandages on his shoulders and gray hair in disorder. And other drinkers are turning the newspaper, there is no one to talk about.

"This year's top three competition is really impressive."

"Who said no, actually invited people other than the magic school to watch the game, but also took out such a high reward."

"Tentatively, the number of spectators has risen to 100000, including goblins, horsemen and MEVA. The number of spectators is twice that of the Quidditch World Cup."

"Ho! It's a big deal. Can Hogwarts sit so many people? "

"I heard that the principals of the three magic schools have set up super stands in Black Lake and forbidden forest at the same time, which can accommodate more than 300000 people."

"If you go or not, I hear there will be a lottery."

"It's silly to go or not. Everyone who gets the news has gone."

...

the conversation of several middle-aged men nearby was like an electric drill drilling into Hoffa's brain to wake him up. He couldn't help asking the boss for a glass of wine and drank it slowly.

At the moment, three days have passed since little Barty's death. Within three days, Hoffa lost his powerful combat ability and recovery ability at night under the action of the septic agent. He had to find a hidden place to deal with his wounds.

Miller disappears, little Barty dies, Dumbledore loses his memory, and Nicole lemme mutinies. At the moment, there is no other helper around him, but his opponent is more and more powerful as time goes on.

Voldemort, Grindelwald, and the fate of nothing, but everywhere.

Although there is no memory of the past, but the sense of vision is still emerging in front of him from time to time, reminding him that this is not the first time.

Creak.

The stone walls leading to Diagon Lane split on both sides.

More than a dozen people came out of Diagon Alley orderly. They carried some wizard's daily necessities, one by one, neat as ants.

In just three days, most of the people Hoffa saw had become what he had seen in the nightmare world, cold, numb, heartless, silent, like walking diamonds.

An inexplicable dream, like a plague, quietly spread across every inch of the world, turning most of the people he saw into a walking corpse.

As for why they became like this and what they were dreaming about, Hoffa probably knew, but he didn't want to think about it, let alone admit it.

He never felt lonely and helpless as he did now.

At this time, the hunchback bar owner put a glass of liquor in front of Hoffa. Hoffa, who never drinks, picked up the glass and gulped it down. His throat was burning with fire.

Under the influence of alcohol, he temporarily forgot the huge pressure around him.

"Another drink."

He said.

So the barman gave him another drink. He hesitated for a moment, raised his glass and drank it. The pungent power rushed into his body and made the world in front of him a little fuzzy. This was the first time he found the pleasure of drinking.

No, maybe it's not the first time...

because there's a strong sense of seeing that comes with fun.

It's not the first time he's been drinking in a bar. If his guess is right, he's probably been drinking in a broken cauldron bar like this for thousands of times. The wine he drinks is enough to go around the earth several times, and even fill the whole lake of Belga.

Goo, goo, goo.

The glass is full and full.

He is now a middle-aged man with many vicissitudes of life. He looks like a man who is crushed by life. The bar owner is probably used to this kind of person, and he will be familiar with it by pouring wine for him.

After the tenth cup.

The owner of the bar raised the jug automatically, intending to renew it for him.

Hoffa covered the mouth of the cup.

"No more?"

Asked the hunchback owner of the broken cauldron.

"No more."

Hoffa shook his head.

The bald boss who wiped the glass in the broken cauldron bar stopped and said with a faint smile, "I'm worthy of being the one I like. I can restrain myself at this time."

Hoffa raised his head and looked at the rickety, bald, broken cauldron barman. He is much older than he was 50 years ago. He remembers the first time he came to the broken cauldron bar alone, when the old man was younger than himself.

"Think about it?" The barman asked a strange question.

"What do you want?" Hoffa asked.

"Think about accepting my invitation." The barman shrugged and laughed.

Hoffa looked at him, his drowsy eyes gradually clear.

The hunchback man in front of him has a pair of deep eyes that can almost suck human soul in. Those eyes are definitely not what a bar owner can have."Are you... Little monster?"

He was slightly surprised.

"That's right." The bar owner said calmly, "sure enough, you are not confused by a pair of skin bags."

"Ho!"

Hoffa can't help but push the cup aside. He is totally different from the last time he saw the God of nightmares. Last time she was enchanting, but this time she was ugly, just like a beggar.

"These..." Hoffa pointed to the wandering crowd. "You did it?"

"It's not me. It's the result of world intervention."

The God of nightmare took Hoffa's empty glass and wiped it. "I told you, this time and space is based on the fact that you stopped sylby Spencer.

But you do not go back to the past, no one to stop the past half king, the whole normal time and space will become a paradox.

The result of sylby Spencer's victory will gradually eat up your victory.

The world of the past will cover the normal world you see, and that's what you see. "

"No one can escape?"

Hoffa couldn't help thinking of Dumbledore. When he first saw him, he was erasing his memory. When he saw him again, he didn't recognize himself.

"No matter how powerful a wizard is, he can't escape his fate. Let's recognize the reality, hoffabach." The God of nightmare asked in the tone of vicissitudes: "have you thought about it?"

"What if I think about it?" Hoffa asked.

"You'll be my voice, and I'll give you the power to overcome everything, Riddell, grindevo, Spencer. Anyone who dares to stop you will be dragged into an eternal nightmare by you. "

"Make me the God of nightmares?"

"It's understandable, but it won't be long."

"What's the price?"

Hoffa asked bitterly.

"You understand."

The God of nightmares said calmly.

"Go back 50 years and beat sylby."

"Of course."

Bang!

Hoffa slapped the table sullenly.

"Why must it be me?"

The God of nightmares quietly wiped his wine glass and silently looked at Hoffa with deep eyes until he no longer wanted to look at himself.

Hoffa stood up and went out without paying.

Outside the door, the sun was cold and dazzling, and the winter wind rolled his neck like a knife.

The long memory came to him, and he suddenly wanted to walk. So his phantom disappeared in the same place.

...

...

when he reappeared, he appeared in a cemetery near glasmere and lake Riddell.

Here, the priest is digging a hole, digging up piles of brown soil. There are also a group of black men in long gowns and serious faces. They are wearing abnormally high hats, shining black boots and carrying a black wooden box. At this time, the men in the priest's robes were talking loudly and the women were crying.

The sound of crying made Hoffa feel calm. It seemed that only at this time could he feel the end of all things. He looked at the thorn forest under his feet and began his long journey.

I do not know how many broken branches and thorns, he came to a hillside near. Here is covered with frost, thorns and tall shrubs withered on the hillside, withered rose branches in the winter, a touch is broken.

He rubbed his hands, exhaled a breath, and began to search according to his memory. Not long after, he found a collapsed rusty metal fence on the hillside, in which two tombstones could be seen.

The tombstone was covered with withered and yellow moss, and he cleared the branches and mosses in this area, revealing the vague names of fatil and agraia below.

This is the first time in 50 years that he has been able to face the past so frankly.

In a sense, his life is already complete. The old man has left himself a huge amount of wealth, enough to do whatever he wants in the world. Ironically, he can never really get what he really wants.

He was born in this world, and he has always been one of them.

If he can, he really wants to sit on the beach with the people he loves, watch the sunset fall from the beach, show the stars all over the sky, listen to the sound of the waves, and no longer have redundant words. But I told myself that I would never be alone again.

But I can't.

No way.

I just can't.

But not at all.

Absolutely not.

The God above him is perverse and crazy like a child. He would rather watch him die 6000 times, even 60000 times, 600 million times, six trillion times than let him get what he wanted.

He touched the tombstone, and then sat down. Relying on the tombstone, he began to think about the past, the future, the meaning of his life, and why life was so difficult.The more he thinks about it, the more he feels small. The more he thinks about it, the more he feels that what he does is meaningless.

But the more so, the more unwilling he was and the more he wanted to do something.

"Little monster." He whispered.

As soon as the voice fell, in the shadow of the whirling trees, the priest who recited the eulogy from a distance of 100 meters suddenly stopped talking, and the crowd became quiet. Women no longer cried, and men no longer dug. The crowd spread out on both sides.

The head priest sorted out his robes, separated the shrubs, stepped on the thorns and came to Hoffa. With an enigmatic smile, he asked again, "do you think about it?"

"Is this world a dream?" Hoffa asked the God of nightmares.

"I can't answer, but from your perspective, No. At least not by sylby Spencer. "

Hoffa turned his head slowly. "You know my future, don't you? You know my samsara, don't you? "

"Sorry, I don't know."

The priest shook his head: "but I have learned from thousands of years of experience that your future has no choice but to take responsibility."

"If I go back, how do you want me to go back?" Hoffa couldn't help asking.

"Dreams can take you across the illusory world of time and the deep world of causality." The priest's light footstep revolved around Hoffa. "Just like a dancer, from one point to another, as long as you don't pollute the principles of the world."

"I don't understand. Said Hoffa.

"Simply put, I can take you back to the past as long as I obey your destiny."

"Can you come back?"

"No, I'll only help you to the moment when you defeat the Demi king. After that, you have no meaning to me."

"Oh, you are honest." Hoffa couldn't help laughing at himself. He then asked, "but grindevo is stopping me. He wants to destroy the world directly. If he succeeds, the existence of both worlds is meaningless, isn't it? "

"Of course, if you don't want that to happen, you can be like sylby."

"The same?"

"Drag Garrett grindevo into the dream and seal it. I have the ability. As long as you promise to go back to the past, I can help you defeat grindevo and avenge you. "

"I'm not like Silby, I'm not like anyone else." Hoffa denied it without hesitation.

"Words are pale, I only believe in deeds." Said the God of nightmares.

Hoffa didn't speak. He thought of his future form in the underworld.

The future self agrees to the deal of the God of nightmares and becomes the new God of nightmares, and drags grindevo into the nightmare, then goes back to the past and waits for the future self to visit.

The God of death saw such an ending, so he let himself go. Their own destiny has formed a complete circle, even as long as the people related to their own destiny can not escape this circle, they and themselves cycle again and again, in this cycle, they have lost their memory again and again, including themselves. The only one who can remember everything is aglia of the underworld.

"I have no choice but to do that?"

Hoffa asked the God of nightmares.

"No, at least I can't see."

The priest in the robe said very firmly.

"You will accept your destiny, you will."

In the face of his determination, this time, Hoffa can no longer say that sentence happily - but, I refuse.

No matter how fast he runs, no matter how far he runs, the hound can always catch up with him, find him and eat him.

But his heart is always full of unwilling, that unwilling is so strong, that he can't promise this guy in front of him, accept the established destiny.

So he stepped back and tried to get away from the nightmare.

However, this seems to be of no help. The digging men and crying women in the distance of the cemetery surrounded him.

He stepped back and ran into a woman in black silk. The woman said, "we are destined to be related. That's why you feel kind to me. That's why I come to you for help."

So Hoffa immediately changed direction, but this time he ran into a man with a shovel.

The man holding the shovel said: "resistance is a very painful thing, and most of the time it is meaningless. If you are obedient sooner or later, you can avoid many detours."

Nightmares are divided into countless parts. Each of them can speak, but they all have the same deep eyes as the universe.

The crowd gathered here made Hoffa feel uneasy and oppressed. He pushed aside the women and priests around him and left in a random direction. The crowd walked slowly behind him.

He walked faster and faster along the road, and finally when he entered the city, the pursuers disappeared.But at this time, all the pedestrians on the road turned their heads, looked at him and said without expression:

"you will accept it, you will!"