Chapter 50 Holmes felt sad.

The girl did not answer. She just lay quietly on the gray ground, breathing slowly. The young Sherlock Holmes knelt beside her, trying to stop the bleeding.

"If you think I am the god of death," the girl whispered, "how can the god of death die?"

"So do you need first aid?" the boy asked.

The girl looked away at the gray and barren sky. She did not answer the question.

"This is not my home." She said.

"This is the gap between the inner and outer sides of the world, a chaotic and complex place called the inner world. Creatures can only survive on a little remaining energy, so it is violent and life-and-death." She said, "Our hometown is deeper, where there are always flowers, bright sunlight and gentle rain."

"This is not my home." She said.

"How do we get there?" the boy asked, trying to pick the girl up. "What do you need? I'll take you back."

"I need to grow up and go home," she whispered. "Two thousand, or three thousand years, we haven't been able to go home for a long, long time."

"But I can't take everyone home." She whispered, and the boy saw tears flowing from her eyes, quietly passing across her tender face, and then dissolving into the ashes.

"I'm dying," she announced quietly.

Holmes couldn't refute this. The girl's chest was bleeding continuously. It was a miracle that she was still breathing.

He could only grab her hand. The girl held his hand carefully. "Why do you want me to live? It has nothing to do with you, right?"

Sherlock Holmes was stunned. It was difficult for him to describe this natural sense of justice in human nature.

The girl looked at him, tears staying in her eyes.

"But I will be born again." She whispered, "We always die and come back to life, and we always lose and find again."

She looked at the sky again, as if she wanted to preserve her dignity. "Being killed by humans is also a very common ending." She said to herself, but Holmes felt that the hand he was holding tightened a little. The girl still had a natural fear of her own fate, or an obsession with her hometown.

She closed her eyes, tears rolled out of her eyes, she raised her hand, and in her hand was a small ball of light, "Please take a bottle, this is the light part of the souls of all those who died this spring, including your mother. When I die, can you take them to the coast?"

"Coast?" Holmes asked.

"Well, they will cross the gray coast in the mist," the girl whispered, "and become new energy."

"What is dead may never die." Holmes muttered to himself. There was a test tube in his pocket. He always had the habit of carrying these things with him. He took it out, put the golden things in it, and covered it with a cork.

The girl placed the key in his palm. "Take this, you won't be hurt in the other world." She said, "Thank you for completing the last job for me."

"Actually, you can just ignore them." The boy said.

The girl blinked. "That's a loss."

She stared at the golden substance in the test tube. "I spent a lot of time to know what the good part of human beings is. I didn't feed everything to nature without distinguishing between the good and the bad."

"Now I'm going to lose it again." She said.

"You are often killed by humans, why don't you hate humans?" The boy asked.

"Aren't there good parts too?" The girl looked at the golden substance in the bottle, and then looked into his gray eyes. Her eyes were focused and yearning, as if they were the only stars in this dim world.

"Keep going west. Although there is the king's key, be careful of predators and rainstorms," ​​her voice became softer and softer. "You will see fog and beaches."

"Seals, owls, giants, and golden roses on the white coast." She said, "Then you just pour them into the sea."

"Luna." Sherlock Holmes heard his own voice. He called out the girl's name, and she closed her eyes quietly. Like a corpse lying in the crystal, it shattered in an instant and turned into white ashes.

He held the test tube containing the golden substance and the small key, and his heart was filled with complex emotions that he didn't know what they were.

His mother died on this night, and he watched this life disappear with his own eyes.

She was definitely not a human being, and her death was definitely not without fear and regret.

He smelled a trace of unwillingness, unwilling to die like this, die under this gray sky, instead of the hometown she described.

Holmes stood up and looked to the west. He walked westward. He followed the girl's instructions. The town was strangely gray and white. Everything was broken and decayed, as if it had been abandoned for too long and lonely.

"Where are you going?" He heard a voice. "The rainstorm is coming. It's not good to walk alone."

He smelled the smell of rust or blood in the air. Is this a sign of the coming rainstorm here?

Holmes saw an old woman standing in front of him. She was hunched over and leaning on a cane.

She opened a door and let him in.

"I'm Lucy." She introduced herself. "I'm an arrow that has left the bow, representing anchoring and irreversibility, the king of the beginning."

"If you have a specific destination in mind, you can tell me." Lucy said, her eyes fell on the test tube in Holmes' hand, "I can take you to the hub and directly reach the gray coast."

"I want to see this world." The boy said.

Lucy blinked.

She showed a tolerant smile.

"Yes, human life should be spent like this. None of you want to reach the end directly."

She looked at the key in Holmes' hand quietly and sighed slightly. "Be careful of the rainstorm. Didn't she have time to tell you?"

"In fact, I am also curious about what is in the rainstorm." Holmes said politely.

Lucy smiled.

"By the way, do you know how the ancient ape, the mother of mankind, Lucy, died?" she asked.

"She fell to death." Holmes answered quickly, "Because she was curious about how to walk on two legs, and she was also curious about what was under the tree."

"Are you going to fall to death too?" Lucy asked.

"I don't know, maybe I'm lucky." Holmes said.

"Yes, trauma is a unique wealth of humans. They can always use it to remember something." Lucy said, she fumbled with the crutch in her hand, "If I send you to the coast and throw you out quickly, it would be a bit disrespectful to your consciousness."

"But you are not prepared to go through here, you know." Lucy said, "What are you going to do, how to avoid those ferocious predators, how to find food and water."

"Since the predator can survive, it means there is information here that can help me survive." Holmes replied, "And since they are living creatures, they must have their own laws. Humans walked out of the wilderness in the past, and I can also walk to that beach."

Lucy looked at him lovingly.

"Once the arrow is shot, there is no turning back." She said calmly, "Are you going to take this path?"

"Are you really curious about even this kind of thing?" She pointed to the storm raging outside the window.

The boy nodded.

Lucy smiled, and she tremblingly took off a locket from her neck.

"This is my king's key, a compass." She said, "The magnet inside was once the tip of the arrow, it will tell you the direction."

Holmes took the compass, and Lucy lowered her head. She walked into the heavy rain without hesitation, and the sound of carnivores tearing bones came from the rain. What was she doing? The boy rushed into the rain curtain, and he could not see anything. When the rainstorm left, the world was empty.

What is the king?

What is the king's key?

What kind of survival rules are believed in here?

He was curious about this, and he was ready to pay the price for this curiosity.

And he suddenly couldn't help thinking of the girl's eyes. In his world, calm death was a rare quality, but here, at least for these two kings, it was commonplace and taken for granted.

The streets washed by the rainstorm did not become clean, and the gray debris was still falling down. Perhaps because they have the effect of absorbing sound, this world is so quiet that you can even hear your own heartbeat.

This world is very similar to the world he is familiar with. It also has houses, streets, shops and factories, but there are no humans here, and it presents a high sense of abandonment.

Just like the garbage cans that hold the scraps when God created the world, all kinds of unreasonable and aesthetically pleasing failures are randomly piled up here, and the residents here are also poor wanderers who cannot return to their hometowns and survive by picking up some leaked resources.

Holmes felt sad.

His still young heart seemed to really hope that they could return to their hometown.

The key in his hand seemed to sense this wish, and it was slightly warm, and there seemed to be an almost imperceptible pulse.

The young Holmes continued to walk forward, and the ashes under the shadow of the street lamps fell on his shoulders