Mysterious resurgence

Yang Jian is now standing in front of the post office in this oil painting.

The door opened, and there were many people of all kinds gathered in the lobby on the first floor. Their clothes seemed to have been the same for several years, ten years, or even decades. They were all different, and they didn't seem to be alive. Normally, there is a strange look in his eyes.

But these people are not evil ghosts, because Yang Jian also read surprise and astonishment from some of the looks.

Real evil ghosts will not have these emotions of living people.

Yang Jian stared at them, and these strange people also stared at Yang Jian. The scene fell into a deathly silence. Zhou Ze, who followed next to him, was also stunned on the spot, with a bit of shock on his face. color.

Why.

Why is there a ghost post office in the world in the oil painting?

Why are there so many weird people hiding in this ghost post office?

at the same time.

The old man who had the ax taken away by Yang Jian and kicked him out was now struggling to stand up. He seemed to feel no pain. It didn't matter if he lost an arm. There was a kind of hatred on his sinister and black face. and angry, seeming to want to stand up and strike again.

But he was stopped by another person next to him who didn't want him to continue.

"If I am not mistaken, these are all the couriers who delivered three letters on the fifth floor of the post office. Although some do not appear in the oil painting, their identities are not difficult to guess."

Yang Jian thought to himself, feeling an inexplicable chill at the same time.

With so many people gathered together, what exactly is the ghost post office going to do?

And are these people really human?

"Who are you? Can you speak?" Yang Jian looked solemn and asked directly.

But after he finished speaking, the lobby on the first floor of the post office remained quiet, as if no one heard what he said, or maybe it was because this place itself was in a supernatural world with no living people entering, so two living people suddenly left. Coming in made these people uncomfortable and even unable to accept it.

"After so many years, I didn't expect that a messenger would finally take the initiative to set foot in this place."

However, under the deathly calm, a voice emerged.

In the hall on the first floor, everyone looked in the direction from which the voice came.

The speaker was a man who looked to be in his early thirties. This man's hair was neatly combed and he was neatly dressed, but his appearance and dressing style were incompatible with modern times. They were at least several decades old.

"Who are you?" The man's eyes turned numb, like a ghost.

"Who are you?" Yang Jian looked at him and asked.

The man paused for a while, seemingly silent, and then said: "I am Zhang Xianguang, a dead person."

"Yang Jian, a person who is still alive."

"You can tell." The man who claimed to be Zhang Xianguang nodded slightly and said, "Do you know where this place is?"

"The ghost post office in the oil painting?" Yang Jian said directly.

Zhang Xianguang said: "This is a supernatural prison. All the imprisoned people are those of us who are neither humans nor ghosts. No living person dares to set foot in it."

"You should all be couriers on the fifth floor, and according to my inference, you have all delivered three letters and left the post office. Only those who leave the post office will leave their own oil paintings of characters in the post office. So, the people in the oil paintings Do you also have independent consciousness?"

Yang Jian glanced at it.

If this is true, then there will be someone familiar to me here.

That's his father.

Because I have seen oil paintings of my father and cousin in Yangjian on the fifth floor, which shows that they also live in this supernatural world.

"You are very smart, and it seems that you already understand something." Zhang Xianguang said: "Our lives will always be fixed at the moment when we leave the post office after delivering the last letter. Although for us we have already left the post office, we have already left the post office. For us we can never get out of the post office."

"It's a curse you can never escape."

At this moment, another person spoke again: "To bear this curse is like falling into hell, just to wait for a result."

"Resurrection?" Yang Jian's eyes moved slightly and he immediately asked.

Someone else answered: "Yes, it's resurrection. After the messenger on the fifth floor delivers the last letter, he can choose to let one of the people here walk out of the world of oil painting and be completely resurrected, but as a price, the messenger will lose the ability to leave the post office. Opportunities to return to the first floor and deliver letters again, over and over again, endless.”

"No one will waste the opportunity to resurrect an irrelevant person, so we are destined to have no way to escape and can only live and die with the post office." Zhang Xianguang said.

Yang Jian looked calm and nodded: "Is that so, relying on the consciousness of supernatural beings? You cannot return to reality and can only be stored in supernatural places. Therefore, from the establishment of the post office to the present, all messengers leaving the fifth floor have backups here. Already?"

"Backup? Funny description, but it's quite appropriate."

Zhang Xianguang said: "No, not all people can exist here. Some people will still disappear. He will disappear soon."

After saying that, he glanced at the old man who used an ax to chop Yang Jian.

Yang Jian's eyelids twitched: "Will you die if you are hurt?"

"No, people here will not die if they are hurt, but they will disappear once they are forgotten."

Zhang Xianguang said: "If no one in the outside world remembers us, then that person will disappear and be completely erased from this world, so he needs to show his face in the post office to be remembered and ensure that he will not disappear, because the post office By default, people who are forgotten by the world will not have a chance to be resurrected."

"Being forgotten is equal to death?" Yang Jian understood, and he thought of the killing rules of ghost paintings.

He had already deciphered the killing patterns of ghost paintings.

For the emergence of ghost paintings, the first step is that ordinary people must see the real ghost paintings. The second step is to recall. If you recall the ghost paintings in your mind when you are bored, then that painting will appear in your home. The third step is to remember the ghost paintings. Bu Ze is fantasy. Never imagine that the woman in the painting will appear. Once you think about ghosts in this way, the ghost in the painting will really come out.

So the killing pattern of ghost paintings is memories.

This pattern of killing is terrifying and unexplainable, because the more a person is afraid of something, the more he thinks about it.

After Yang Jian realized this, he immediately ignored the details of the ghost paintings whenever he thought of them. If his memory was not complete enough, or his thoughts were interrupted midway, the ghost paintings would not appear.

"Some people desire to be forgotten, and some desire to be remembered. Therefore, those who want to be forgotten are remembered, and those who want to be remembered are forgotten. If there is a hell, this must be an endless hell, and we are just falling forever. They are just evil spirits and cannot be liberated." Zhang Xianguang said.

Eternal hell?

A smile appeared at the corner of Yang Jian's mouth: "Interesting statement, it seems that it is impossible for you to escape."

"Why?" someone asked with a cold face.

Yang Jian said: "Because you have been seen by me and remembered by me. As long as I don't die, there will always be people in this world who remember you, so you will never disappear again and it is impossible to be freed."

"Kill him. I don't want to be remembered. I want to be forgotten and disappear completely from here." Among the crowd, a woman spoke.

She is very young, wearing a floral skirt, two big braids, and an old-fashioned look.

When these words came out, they were very inspiring.

Immediately, many people stared at Yang Jian with strange eyes, with an inexplicable ferocity.

Trapped in a supernatural place for a long time, they are neither humans nor ghosts, their personalities have been distorted, and they also have certain supernatural powers in the oil paintings. Together, they can not even deal with ordinary people, even top ghost controllers It can also be killed.

Seeing this, Zhou Ze's heart shrank suddenly. He looked at Yang Jian and whispered: "The situation is very bad. Let's find an opportunity to retreat quickly. Don't fight with these supernatural beings here."

Yang Jian was unmoved upon hearing this.

Although these supernatural people are very dangerous, they are all the elite messengers since the establishment of the post office. Their understanding of ghost post offices is beyond imagination. If you can communicate with them, dealing with ghost post offices will be a piece of cake.

"If you want to do it, just give it a try." Yang Jian shouted coldly and picked up the ax in his hand.

"The ax can't save you. It's not a real supernatural object, but a painting. Things on everyone's body will be retained at the moment the message is delivered. Things can only be used in the world of oil paintings and cannot leave. Once they leave, they will be lost. It will completely dissipate. How much power do you think the supernatural thing you drew can have with the original version?"

One of the messengers laughed out loud, with a hint of reminder that obviously not everyone was hostile.

"So that's it." Yang Jian's eyes moved slightly: "In other words, there is still such an ax in the outside world?"

"Don't you think it's ridiculous that you're still thinking about those things when you're about to die?" the woman in the floral skirt said indifferently.

A group of people took action, and they gradually surrounded him, wanting to attack Yang Jian together and kill him.

Although they have no way to appear outside, since Yang Jian has come to the world of oil painting, they have an advantage. Even if the supernatural power in the paintings is not as much as that in life, as a group of top figures in the past, they can still let them work together. People feel fear.

Yang Jian took a step back, gripped the ax tightly, and prepared to fight with the gate as the boundary.

He doesn't feel scared because he doesn't think he's going to lose.

"You can't do anything, at least I won't agree." However, at this moment, a voice came out, the voice was low and had a somewhat threatening tone.

The steps of those who joined forces all stopped.

Their expressions changed a lot, and then they looked in one direction.

Deep in the lobby of the post office, a man walked slowly. He was very young, probably in his early twenties. However, what was surprising was that this man's appearance was somewhat similar to Yang Jian, but his temperament was slightly different. Just different.

He revealed a kind of composure, calmness, and a hidden edge.

"Did you show up?"

Yang Jian looked at that person with a concentrated expression.

"Your surname is Yang, that's it. I should have thought of it a long time ago." Zhang Xianguang said.

"It's really an interesting scene for a son to inherit his father's legacy. How many years have passed outside now, and have the younger generations already become so outstanding? They dare to set foot in this place at a young age."

Many people have already associated the truth of the matter through his name and appearance.

"If you do it, I will make it impossible for you to escape." The young man said coldly at this moment: "You haven't had nightmares for a long time, right? Do you want to give it a try?"

"We long to be forgotten and seek relief. Death is nothing to us." Someone said.

"You will not die in the nightmare, but it will definitely be a hundred times worse than now." The young man said: "Some people have already tried it, but some people have not tried it yet."

The rest fell silent.

They believe that offending this person is definitely more terrible than death.

Because the nickname of the man in front of me is Nightmare Yang Xiao.

Even in the world in the oil painting, he still possesses a certain amount of supernatural power that he had during his lifetime.

This young man came over. He seemed to be very threatening among this group of people who were neither humans nor ghosts, and his status was extraordinary. No one dared to comment at this moment, they just watched this scene happen.

soon.

He came to the door and faced Yang Jian.

Two people with similar looks spanned more than ten years and officially met for the first time with the help of supernatural powers.

"He is right. As long as we are looking for answers, you will definitely appear here." He said, "But this should be the first time we meet. Hello, my name is Yang Xiao."

Yang Xiao, obviously this is his pseudonym, because his full name is Yang Xiaotian, which means filial piety is greater than heaven.

Since this is a post office, it's no surprise that few people refer to themselves by their real names.

"Yang Jian." He stretched out his hand.

A smile appeared on Yang Xiao's lips, and the two shook hands, each knowing the other's identity.

One is his son more than ten years in the future, and the other is his father more than ten years ago.

The supernatural created this incredible scene.

"Zhang Xianguang is right, this is an endless hell, that's why you showed up." Yang Xiao said this: "Your name means the end of everything. I hope you won't hate it."

"This is how my name comes from." Yang Jian looked slightly moved and said, "Fortunately, I wasn't named Yang Wei. I'm not very suitable to be a great man."

"Since you have entered here, you must have your own considerations, so what are you going to do?" Yang Xiao asked.

Yang Jian said: "Do my words work?"

"As long as my words work, if you don't obey, just let them daydream." Yang Xiaodao.

"That's good." Yang Jian said, "I have a decision in mind, but I want to understand this place first."

"You know everything you need to know." Yang Xiao nodded and said, "Come in and sit down. There are some things that we really should talk about."

He invited Yang Jian into the post office, and no one dared to object.

Zhang Xianguang said, "The situation has changed. It seems that he is right. There is no way for you to escape."

Everyone remained silent, staring at Yang Jian and Zhou Ze who walked into the post office with strange expressions.