Chapter 263: No Bat Incident (3)

Chapter 263: No Bat Incident (3)

After countless dances, Hugo couldn't bear it anymore. This was completely an irrational space of consciousness!

Standing from a god's perspective and with Schiller's explanation, the compositional relationship wasn't complicated. In simple terms, this place was actually the embodiment of Schiller's thinking.

For example, the "Inverted Tower" represented Schiller's process of empathetic thinking, the "Conflict of Self-Control" represented his choices when faced with temptation, and the nameless brick theater represented his way of entertaining himself. The boring square... well, it just represented boredom.

These thoughts and emotions were something everyone would experience. If these were transposed onto an ordinary person, it would probably be the same. For example, the process of learning knowledge could be visualized as a library of graphical books, and the process of self-reflection could be visualized as a meditation room, and so on.

However, this perspective was only from the high-dimensional god's viewpoint. If a time traveler was suddenly thrown into these rooms, they would certainly be bewildered, not knowing what was going on.

Hugo possessed abundant professional knowledge, and he understood that this was the embodiment of Schiller's thinking. However, he couldn't comprehend what these things actually represented.

From his perspective, he was initially transported to a hospital full of mad doctors and subjected to various tortures before being frightened awake.

After waking up, he found himself in an office where a voice inexplicably guided him to detonate a bomb, only to be frightened awake again.

He then discovered that he had been kidnapped by a wooden figure with green hair in the shape of a letter C, but before he could be frightened awake, the power was cut off.

Then he was transported to a void space, watching an apple dance more than six hundred times.

If this story were written in some literary work, there would surely be many readers' comments. The composition of this stream of consciousness was a bit premature for carbon-based life forms.

If we say that the first scene could be understood as the embodiment of Schiller's obsession with work and the problems encountered in communicating with patients, and the second scene could barely be understood as the fantasies during work setbacks and slacking off, and the third scene could reluctantly be explained as childhood fantasies...

But Hugo couldn't imagine what an apple dancing more than six hundred times represented.

What did it represent, exactly?

What else could it represent?!

Damn it, what the hell does it represent, damn it???

Hugo gave up, or rather, he had already lost hope.

But that was normal too. Anyone watching an apple with hands and feet perform all classical music and ballet and opera songs in the world would have similar emotions. It couldn't be described as being overwhelmed with excitement; it could also be described as a profound realization.

However, before he lost hope, Hugo still had one last thing to do. He hadn't forgotten. He had a machine button that could influence people's emotions and bring forth their greatest fears.

Finally, before Hugo pressed the button, the whole world quieted down. Everyone in the audience turned to look around their surroundings, only to realize that nothing had happened.

"Did your experiment fail? It seems like the pathway to the depths of consciousness hasn't opened."

"No... perhaps it has already opened, but..." Schiller stood up again, leading everyone to the entrance of the theater. He opened the doors, revealing the vast sky outside.

An irresistible strong wind rushed in, but Victor still stood on the side and glanced. He noticed that the doors had transformed into the shape of airplane windows, and outside the windows, there was a clearly visible airplane wing.

"Are you most afraid of flying?"

Schiller shook his head, and then others saw that the clouds started to thin out. The plane gradually descended, and the city below grew larger. The plane flew lower and lower, finally landing smoothly.

"And then?" Vincent asked, somewhat puzzled.

"I'm not afraid of taking a plane, but rather the smooth landing of the plane I'm on."

"Of course, as long as you dig deep enough, one day you will reach the bottom."

"So Jack went to help you dig the basement?"

"He not only has to help me dig the basement but also, after reaching the bottom, he has to... do something unpleasant for me there."

The mental space gradually dissipated, and the dream began to fade away. After their consciousness returned to their bodies, Victor shook his head somewhat drowsily. He turned and saw Schiller sitting behind the table, holding an Earth sphere that kept spinning when placed on the table.

This scene looked familiar, and Victor even looked around specifically but didn't notice anything unusual. Schiller saw his actions and said, "That's one of the aftereffects of lucid dreaming. After waking up, you will doubt whether you're still dreaming, but I can assure you that this is indeed the real world."

Vincent and Copperpot both stood up from the sofa, stretching their somewhat stiff bodies. Only Jack, lying on the single sofa, was still asleep.

"Is what you told us in the dream true? Did Jack dig into your subconscious? What exactly will he dig up? What does it mean when you said...?" Victor paused for a moment, still unable to utter that slightly vulgar word.

"When you want to make a fish surface, besides using bait to lure it, there's another method..."

"What method is that?"

"Pouring excrement into its home."

Copperpot had a sudden realization on his face. Clearly, he remembered some past situations, and that expression turned into disgust and a little sympathy.

The other two were somewhat puzzled, but they didn't inquire further.

After the group left, the sky darkened once again. Schiller sat on the sofa as usual, reading a book and listening to music.

Before long, he felt a wave of drowsiness creeping in. Schiller took out the energizing medicine he had prepared and poured it into his mouth, but the drowsiness grew deeper, to the point where he could hardly keep his eyes open.

In the depths of his mind, a voice said to him, "Sleep, sleep, go to sleep..."

And Schiller's response was, "No, I won't sleep, I won't sleep at all."

Sleep... go to sleep...

No, not tired, not sleeping...

"You're tired! Sleep!"

"I'm not tired at all! I can hold on for at least another 20 hours!"

"But I can't hold on anymore!!!" the voice shouted.

In an instant, Schiller's vision went black, and when he regained consciousness, there was a pale, slender man in a robe standing before him, glaring at him with anger in his eyes.

As if expecting this, Schiller stood up from the sofa and asked, "Excuse me, are you 'Sleep Demon' Morpheus?"

"Yes, I am Morpheus. You..."

Schiller interrupted him, opening his arms and saying, "Morpheus, I've come to negotiate terms."

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