Self-cultivation of the Exorcist

Push open the door of the church.

It's 12:08 in the middle of the night.

Du Wei did not wake up Tom, who was in a dream, and Father Tony.

All he wanted to do now was go home and get some rest.

Full of exhaustion.

Although there are antique clocks at home, seriously.

After so long, he has already gotten used to it. Every time he comes back, he first looks at the antique clock, and then falls asleep listening to the sound of the regular and mechanical hands turning.

certainly.

He is always wary of antique clocks.

Home is the safest, but also the most dangerous.

Sleep with the devil.

It is estimated that in this world, no one can be like Du Wei.

Take a deep breath.

There was a hint of coldness at the tip of Du Wei's nose.

He disappeared for a week, now it is July 7th.

It's okay during the day, but at night, the temperature difference starts to increase.

At this time.

Du Wei frowned again: "A week..."

As he spoke, he fumbled in his pocket and took out his phone.

It's out of power.

He thought of one thing.

After disappearing for a week, Alex will definitely call himself. After all, in this world, except for her, Tom, and Father Tony, basically no one else cares about him.

"I've got to think of a good reason."

Du Wei said so, but he couldn't help having a headache again.

He didn't know how to face Alex now.

She is the reincarnation of Minette.

And judging from the truth he learned behind the gate of hell, Minette had endless feelings for him in the past.

Even if Du Wei only cares about Alex.

But if one day in the future, Alex suddenly regained the memory of her previous life, wouldn't it mean that she would know that she was in the past, holding her neck, and almost crushing her to death.

To know.

What he experienced before was repeating a certain time segment in the past.

Although Du Wei did not agree with this at all.

But his girlfriend is different...

"Maybe I'm thinking too much, how could Alex remember the memory of his previous life?"

"Lane can't remember, there's no reason she could."

"Besides, even if she can remember, so what? It was the evil spirit Du Wei who almost killed her. What does it have to do with me, Du Wei?"

Speaking of which.

Du Wei heaved a sigh of relief. He put the phone back in his pocket and walked towards his home.

The road ahead is long.

But there is a faint mist in the air.

He walked slowly and arrived at a convenience store. After buying a pack of cigarettes, he smoked alone and walked on the road alone.

The dim street lamp beside him stretched his shadow very long.

Seemed as lonely as he was.

But soon, when his figure disappeared into the fog, he couldn't even see the shadow, only the street lamp remained.

...

July 7, 1:20.

Du Wei came to the door.

He had walked for a long time, and the windbreaker he was wearing was already wet by the fog.

Take out the key, insert and twist.

yay...

Accompanied by the teeth-gritting sound of the door opening.

Du Wei walked into the dark home.

He flipped on the light switch in the living room.

all of a sudden.

The living room is illuminated.

On the wall, the antique clock is still hanging, and it maintains the appearance when it left.

But Du Wei's face became ugly.

Because he saw that the living room was in a mess, many documents turned into debris, the furniture fell crookedly on the ground, and the sofa was broken in half.

Not to mention the coffee table and other decorations.

Du Wei raised his head and glanced at the chandelier on the ceiling. The lampshade was drooping on the light bulb, and the exposed wires were pulled down by gravity.

"Has my house been burglarized?"

"Or is there another earthquake in New York?"

Du Wei looked at the antique clock with a strange look: "What did you do during the week I was away?"

Burglary is naturally impossible.

Even if a thief came in, he would definitely die at home.

And the earthquake...

Antique clocks and watches have been done so once before.

only.

It is impossible for antique clocks to respond to Du Wei.

Ka Ka Ka...

Only the hands are turning.

Du Wei was expressionless, and he didn't say any more.

Wait for a while, as long as the evil spirit Du Wei can wake up again, he will have enough confidence to wrestle with the antique clock.

Not yet.

Think about it.

Du Wei didn't bother with it any more, and returned to the bedroom on the second floor by stepping on the mess.

in the bedroom.

Du Wei took out his belongings one by one.

Dice, coins, envelopes, masks, lighters...

And that oil painting.

"Before, I only regarded the oil painting as an item related to the curse, but now it seems that it can become my life-saving trump card. With it, I can hide in and escape through Freddy."

"There is also the black shadow. Now it has become my shadow. It will be impossible to get rid of me or resist me forever."

"And it has already turned into a demon spirit. Now, if I don't count as the evil spirit Du Wei, my strength should be about the same as that of the Vanity Sect."

"Coupled with my many hole cards, I won't be helpless when I encounter weirdness alone."

No matter when, only safety is the most important.

No weirdness yet though.

But Du Wei is habitually prepared, he is now very insecure by the horror house and the bus.

I always feel that all the evil spirits in the world have hatred against him.

The main thing is.

What Du Wei will do next is even crazier than before.

He has already set his sights on Solomon's seventy-two pillars of demon gods, together with the church, Voodoo, Twilight Bell Church, and Vanity Sect.

"Perhaps starting with voodoo is a good entry point."

After speaking, Du Wei lay on the bed and began to rest.

He was so tired that even the envelope, who always claimed to be a running dog, didn't come out to disturb him.

...

And the other side.

In the Church of Evening Bell.

The secret room of Matthew's room.

Kerosene lamps illuminated the surroundings.

Matthew was sitting on the desk, next to him was the pen related to the demon god.

Opposite him, the middle-aged white man who was chained to the cross had his eyes closed, as if he was dead, without any breath.

at this time.

Matthew opened an old book.

It's not very thick, but after opening it, the text written on the first page is.

【We still cannot accept what His Excellency the Duke has done. His name and his face have long been taboo, but someone is still waiting for his recovery. 】

[In the distant future, perhaps one day, he will appear in front of us in a way that no one can expect. 】

[But you must know that he has long been inhuman, and perhaps the person who came back is just an empty shell. 】

[It’s just that we are grateful for his contribution. He let us know that there is still a way to steal the power of Solomon’s seventy-two pillars of demon gods, even if it may be difficult to succeed. 】

Seeing this, Matthew sighed in a very complicated way.

On the other side, the middle-aged white man opened his eyes and said indifferently, "So he's back."

Matthew said: "It's just that he is too weak now, worse than me."

The middle-aged white man said: "He was the first mover, but so was I."

The dialogue between two people is not like you are asking and answering, but it is like talking to yourself, even the tone of voice is exactly the same, the only difference is the difference in sensuality.

One is old and the other is young.

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