Conan: Start with three choices, but sequence potion

Chapter 176 The Adventures of a Factory Flower

This is the despairing scenery that Vermouth sees every day when she looks down from the luxury apartment where she lives.

People live in mediocrity, their days are numb and repetitive, and they can't find the meaning of life.

In the eyes of God, such people are perhaps no different from ants in the eyes of humans?

Vermouth cannot guess what God is thinking, just as an ant cannot know what humans are thinking.

She is lucky. She has her own skills and does not lack material satisfaction under the power of the organization.

But she is also unfortunate. The long and endless future brings her only endless confusion and hesitation.

She hung revenge and drug A high on the banner of her life, and willingly turned herself into a stupid donkey chasing a carrot and a fishing rod, as if she really enjoyed it.

The big golden retriever pushed the door open with its head and went into the room.

This is what Vermouth saw when she was shopping a few days ago. It was just squatting in the pet shop, not trying to please customers, nor fighting or competing, just staying there quietly, out of tune with other pets.

Vermouth even felt that it was born of the wrong species. It should not be a dog but a cold snake. She saw the loneliness of a snake in its eyes.

Snakes are solitary creatures. They are vicious and cruel. Once they identify their prey, they will lie dormant patiently until they have devoured it, and then begin a long sleep.

She doesn't like snakes, but she doesn't hate them either.

So she took it home and named it Snake.

Snake seemed to sense his owner's depression. He made a "woop" sound, then moved his big, furry, warm face closer and arched his back against her neck.

"Good boy, good boy"

Vermouth patted its head, reached out and hugged its neck, and after a while she stood up and walked to the dressing table.

She skillfully put on a human skin mask, and then painted on it. Not long after, a beautiful face, which showed just the right amount of immaturity, appeared in front of the mirror.

She admired her "masterpiece", put away all the disguise tools, then walked to the bed and gently tapped the pure white round device.

The "cocoon" opened in response.

Vermouth moved her round and slender legs, straddled it, and lay down.

The secret compartment at hand rose automatically, revealing a blue and white capsule in a short transparent tube.

She took it out, held it in front of her, and stared at it for a long time.

Then put it gently into your mouth and swallow it without even needing water.

As a slight sleepiness came over me, the shell of the "cocoon" slowly closed.

Is there really a God in this world?

If "God" really exists, then how come so many people in this world who work hard to live encounter misfortune?

But the angel never smiled at her. Not even once.

When Vermouth opened her eyes again, she saw a blood-red full moon as bright as a gem.

Looking around, she found that she was in a cemetery and was sitting on a blank tombstone.

There were empty dead trees standing in the distance, and from time to time crows would fly up and down, crowing loudly.

Vermouth jumped down from the tombstone, and all she saw was desolation.

She walked along the path in the cemetery that could barely be called a "main road" and finally found the exit after walking for a while.

At the entrance to the cemetery was a tall iron gate, next to which was a guardhouse, and on a dead tree hung a lantern emitting a faint yellow light. Vermouth approached cautiously and looked inside through the narrow glass window of the guardhouse.

The guard room was very dark and there was no light. The only lighting came from the lantern hanging on the tree outside. The light shone in through the window and left a small spot of light on the table in front of the window.

She could vaguely see the outline of a figure, who was covered in a dark red cloak. She couldn't tell whether he was a man or a woman, or what he looked like.

Vermouth even vaguely felt that she could not hear the man's breathing or heartbeat.

She was hesitating about how to negotiate and was considering whether to just flip out, when she saw the figure slightly raise his hand.

squeak--

The gate opened a crack, just enough for one person to go in and out.

Vermouth did not stay long. She took a deep look at the figure in red and then walked out.

The area around the cemetery is deserted, surrounded by low-rise buildings, the tallest of which is only four stories high.

Red bricks and green tiles are intertwined, and large patches of ivy cling to the building, giving it a strong sense of time.

Obviously, this is an old town area with a long history, and Vermouth actually felt a sense of familiarity for a moment.

Perhaps because she walked out of the cemetery, the few residents nearby looked at her with some caution and subconsciously kept a distance from her. Not far away, a gentle man with glasses leaned his head out from behind the window to get some fresh air and smoked a cigarette. He was obviously stunned when he saw her delicate face, but quickly retracted his gaze and closed the window.

It was as if the anti-theft net outside could not give him much sense of security.

Vermouth couldn't help but feel strange.

Her disguise couldn't be said to be absolutely beautiful, but it was definitely at the level of rare beauty. Why did these people act as if they had seen a ghost when they saw her?

But soon, she discovered that these people were not afraid of her.

To be precise, the local residents are afraid of every "strange woman" they meet, and they keep a relatively safe distance from each other. Few people go out, and most of them walk in a hurry and are unwilling to stay outside for long.

What's going on here?

After being rejected for the third time, she finally gave up the idea of hitchhiking and just walked on foot.

The buildings in this old city are very dense. Old-style residential areas, private restaurants, food stalls, hardware stores and the like can be seen everywhere on both sides of the street. A child wanted to stay outside a convenience store, but was forcefully pulled away by his mother.

People here live in fear.

Vermouth had no idea where their fear came from, and she walked slowly forward with confusion.

Until there were no more pedestrians on the roadside, the sky gradually darkened, and the red moon hung in the middle of the sky.

It was late at night.

A thick fog began to appear on the streets.

Thick water vapor rushed into her nasal cavity, making Vermouth feel quite uncomfortable. She frowned and covered her mouth and nose with her sleeves.

The field of vision narrowed rapidly, and due to the dense fog, the visible range was soon limited to an area of about two meters around the body.

Red lights appeared faintly in the fog, and clear footsteps came from the depths of the thick fog. Although it sounded like there were many people, it felt like there was only the same set of footsteps.

Vermouth retreated cautiously, but her speed was obviously not as fast as the approaching red light. When she reacted and wanted to run, her surroundings were illuminated by scarlet halo. The originally milky white mist turned bloody, as if it had substance, trapping her inside and making her unable to move.

She raised her head and met several pairs of glowing blood-red eyes.

(End of this chapter)