I suppressed the weirdness in the shelter

Chapter 225 Is Your Script Authentic?

"Can you hurry up? I'm getting impatient."

Your last words are a bit unique.

"Since you are so anxious, I will satisfy you!"

Following the director's command, the hidden patterns instantly emerged, and the secret room was filled with light in an instant.

The biting cold air poured into the secret room from every crack and soon filled it completely. It was so cold that people couldn't help but want to wrap their collars tightly.

And on the ceiling where the light was shooting, a sticky liquid like ink suddenly overflowed from nowhere and dripped onto Wyatt's body bit by bit.

These liquids can be considered concentrated pollution. Any organism that is contaminated by them will irreversibly mutate into the polluting organism.

Wyatt had seen such severe pollution before, but he had never seen it in this form.

It is said that no one can defy the handwriting of fate, and that his pen and ink will leave indelible marks.

Now it seems that this sticky liquid might be the ink of "fate".

At this moment, Wyatt felt that the tip of "Destiny"'s pen had rested on his head, and the ink was dripping on him.

This means that at this moment, Wyatt has indeed become the protagonist of "Fate".

Wyatt should have felt happy, but it was not real, it was an illusion.

The sacrificial ceremony is a sophisticated ritual and we should not give up control over the details in pursuit of effectiveness.

The director made this low-level mistake.

But he himself was completely unaware of it and just kept admiring the so-called miracle.

"It's so beautiful... so moving! I never thought I'd get to see this in my lifetime!"

"The script remains as unchangeable as before. Those chosen by Him will follow His will."

"The playwright is kind to me. As long as I offer this sacrifice, I may be promoted to an apostle of "Destiny"!"

A sneer of contempt interrupted the director's praise, which made him a little angry and embarrassed.

He glared at Wyatt, who was already at the end of his strength, and angrily told him that he should not despise "fate". As a dying man, how could he laugh at the existence that took his life.

Of course, Wyatt would not sneer at "fate". The only person he was mocking from beginning to end was the director.

An ignorant fool deserves all the ridicule. It would be better to say that not ridiculing him is a kind of disrespect to the fool.

"If you want to be an Apostle of Destiny, you'd better save your time. There is only one position left and you can't get it. Also, I'm curious about one thing. Why are you so confident? Is it really just because of the script?"

"It seems that you know the existence of the script, which is not surprising. However, you heretics still don't understand the script as always. The script cannot be violated! You will be sacrificed today. This is your fate!"

Wyatt's laughter became even more unbridled, which made the director even more angry and embarrassed.

But soon he calmed down, thinking that there was no need to be angry about the questions asked by an outsider.

All you have to do is wait for the sacrifice to be completed and then collect your reward.

But Wyatt wasn't going to let him go.

"You should be a senior member among actors who is called a director, right?"

"Exactly."

"Since you are the director, I think you should know what is the most important thing in a play? Then let me ask you, does the script need to serve the performance?"

"What a ridiculous question. Are you fooled by the ink? The performance is the top priority. Everything else has to give way to him."

"That's right. As a director, sometimes I give actors completely different fake scripts for better performance effects. I believe you also understand this."

"Are you trying to say that the script is fake? Hahaha, heretics are heretics. They don't understand the greatness of the playwright. His script cannot be wrong."

"Of course, but the premise is that the script He gave you is really the original script for the current play?"

"If it's fake, then why are you so embarrassed now?" In response to Wyatt's question, the director chose to respond with sarcasm. After all, he didn't need to explain so much to a dying man.

He is the loser and I am the winner. Making fun of the loser is one of the rewards for the winner, and becoming the winner's entertainment is also the price the loser has to pay.

Wyatt is ready to fight back against the director's stupidity with the truth.

The ink had completely engulfed Wyatt's body below the neck, but the round and smooth surface was expanding rapidly at this moment.

The director noticed this, but before he could react, the huge ink ball exploded.

Ink stars flew everywhere, the sacrificial ceremony was ruined, and the sacrifice was ruined.

"what!!!!!"

The director's screams filled the secret room, and his voice could even be heard at the secret door backstage.

Wyatt covered his ears and slowly walked towards the Patriarch.

The other party was yelling frantically "impossible" and "nothing can go wrong", waving his hands wildly, looking like he was throwing a tantrum.

Wyatt was used to seeing pagans playing rogue, and at this moment he just wanted to take a good look at the script.

"See, I proved that the script is fake, now you believe it."

"Impossible, absolutely impossible! The script can't be false, it's written right there in the script!!"

The director took out the script, as if to prove to Wyatt that he was not lying, but before he could say a few more words, the script was snatched away by Wyatt.

"Give it back to me, give it back quickly..."

The director was bound by thorns growing from the floor, unable to move and having difficulty breathing.

The thorns were stained with a sedative toxin, and as the thorns pierced the skin, the toxin flowed into the blood. The director soon calmed down and his eyes became dull.

Wyatt was flipping through the script. This was the first time he got a "Destiny" script, and to be honest, he felt a little excited.

It’s a pity that this script is fake.

White flames rose, and the script gradually fell apart under the licking of the flames.

Seeing this scene, the sedative effect of the toxin could no longer suppress the director. He screamed heartbreakingly and vowed to tear Wyatt to pieces.

"Don't be anxious. I just said the script is fake. Why are you so anxious? Did I hit you sore?"

"The script can't be fake! Impossible! How could the playwright give us a fake script? If it's fake, then where is the truth?"

"How do I know if you can be a filial son? Your family's destiny plate doesn't even take you seriously. How shameless."

"It can't be fake! You are not allowed to say that! Apologize to me! If you have the guts, show me the real script!"

"Where can I find the real script? Your destiny disk doesn't respond to me. Do you think He will give me the real script if I just shout at Him?" Wyatt shouted at the ceiling in a pretentious manner, "Hey! Huhuhuhu, give me your real script, little destiny."

Wyatt spread his hands helplessly.

"Do you think He cares about me?"

"This... How is this possible? This must be a trick of yours. Hahahaha! This must be a trick of yours!"

"No buddy, you..."

Wyatt suddenly felt something stuffed in his hand, and he looked at the hand.

A brown leather-bound book appeared in his hand.

With a skeptical mood, Wyatt flipped through it.

"No buddy, is He serious?!"

(End of this chapter)