Self-cultivation of the Exorcist

"I should die."

Du Wei stood on the street, the surroundings were bleak, and the atmosphere became very depressing and absurd.

Above his head, the hideous face of the nun grew larger and larger.

Means, getting closer and closer to him.

Before long, the nun would confront him and kill him.

After chanting his real name, the nun established a very strong bond with him.

Can't refuse, can't change.

In other words, Du Wei has a dead end.

The real name of the devil since ancient times, is a half-truth and half-false lie.

The more you cling to your real name, the more you see, until the real name is completely confirmed and its existence is recognized.

"In a sense, when I first came into contact with the curse and saw those letters, I was already caught in this trap."

"All the struggle and resistance are actually meaningless."

"Death is absolute."

"No wonder no one survived the curse in church records."

Du Wei looked at the face of the nun that was getting closer, and looked at it calmly. Even though he was about to be killed, he didn't panic at all.

Just like what Du Wei once said.

Facing death, one should give it the peace it deserves.

next second.

The ugly and ferocious face of the nun slanted down from the sky like a waterfall, causing huge waves.

It rained cats and dogs.

Du Wei was wet all over, and his body could hardly keep steady. He frowned, so he had to sit on the ground, quietly watching the nun attack him.

Then, he saw the nun opened her bloody mouth, sharp and sharp like the teeth of a wild beast, black liquid flowed down from the corner of its mouth, and when it dripped on the ground, it corroded the ground like sulfuric acid.

"I suddenly figured out something."

"This real name was actually given to you by me."

Inexplicably, Du Wei touched the mask on his face and laughed softly.

He laughed presumptuously.

Immediately afterwards, it was swallowed by the nun, the light disappeared, and the consciousness sank...

Simply put, "he died".

There was no disturbance in the whole process, and there were no resistance measures, not even the thought of resistance.

A little too easy.

...

This moment.

There was also heavy rain in New York City outside the dreamland.

The entire psychological consultation clinic looked extremely hazy in the rain. From a distance, the whole room was gloomy and black, and only a vague outline could be seen vaguely.

And in the living room.

The antique clock hanging on the wall suddenly stopped turning.

Time stopped, and the hands never moved forward even once.

A sense of oppression that cannot be described in words pervaded, and black mist and dense silk threads emerged from the antique clock.

Look carefully, those silk threads are filled with the entire psychological counseling clinic,

No corners were spared.

The sofa, the computer, and everything are threaded through and become a part of it.

The same was true for the framed cabinet hanging next to the antique clock. Only Annabelle, who was locked inside, was not penetrated by the silk thread. She trembled and slammed into the door of the framed cabinet crazily.

But it's completely useless.

When Du Wei still had the clown card that represented the gambling game, he gambled with it.

The price Annabelle paid for being a loser was being locked in a framing cabinet forever.

It can't come out without external force.

But at this moment, the mutation of the antique clock caused some troubles.

Those black fine silk threads have covered the framed cabinet and extended into it.

It seemed to be looking for something, but it didn't find anything, so it became extremely violent.

It wants to explore everything in the entire psychological counseling clinic.

Once touched by those black silk threads, very strange things are very likely to happen.

At the very least, Annabelle's performance can prove this point, it is terrified to the extreme, and just wants to escape.

It is not logical.

Before Du Wei dreamed, he should have stood in front of the antique clock face, but now he was nowhere to be seen in the living room.

He disappeared.

...

the other side.

Scullyn on the highway to New York City.

A dozen or so black limousines are galloping.

Hannibal and the others were sitting in the car, and the cult members were full of excitement and fanaticism, heading towards their destination.

"We'll be in New York City before dawn."

"This time, we will never fail."

"That man's body will become the medium through which God descends into the world."

"All will remember the name of God."

The cultists were trembling with excitement. They had already been divided into two teams. One team brought the mirror back to Europe, and the other went to New York under the leadership of Hannibal.

But Hannibal smiled more happily, he lowered his head slightly, a strange look flashed in his eyes.

As the same kind as the evil spirit Du Wei.

He looked forward to the moment when he would free it.

For this reason, he made up a lie, and the evil spirit Du Wei used his method to fill up all the loopholes in the lie.

It allows everyone to hear its voice and see its power.

Of course, "God" should be high above.

Therefore, except for Hannibal, everyone can only see its cold and calm eyes.

No one dared to look at it.

"With me here, that body will definitely be yours."

Hannibal said this in his heart, he was very confident.

Vader had always been at a disadvantage in the confrontation with Du Wei before, because of information asymmetry.

Hannibal really knew Du Wei too well. He knew many methods of Du Wei, and he also knew that he seemed to have the ability to control evil spirits.

But these, Hannibal didn't care.

Because he is the nemesis of evil spirits.

...

It's been a long night.

The Vaders are rushing to New York, but Hannibal has a different purpose from them.

The cultists are deceived by lies and want to make their god "Douwei the Evil Spirit" come to reality and jump out of the mirror.

But Hannibal is playing with fire, he just wants to have one more person of his kind in this world.

He figured that would be fun.

The evil spirit Du Wei also felt the same way.

Therefore, in James' room at the headquarters of the Evening Bell Church in Switzerland, there was a scalp-numbing scene.

"Please, let me go."

"Pain... torture..."

"I'm going crazy, who are you?"

"Answer me, what do you want me to do!"

James was kneeling on the floor of the bathroom, his only remaining hand propped on the ground, covered in cold sweat, his face was as pale as paper, without a trace of blood.

On the floor, sweat had collected in a puddle.

A mirror hung on the sink in front of him.

The mirror reflected his embarrassment and pain at this time, but what caught the eye was those eyes—cold, calm, without any emotion.

"Huh... these are not my eyes..."

James looked at himself in the mirror, staring into those eyes with a painful and hideous expression.

He gritted his teeth and growled: "Stop torturing me, tell me what exactly you want me to do, and I will definitely do it."

At night, he will be tortured, and his spirit is on the verge of collapse.

At first it was in a dream, but now it has come to reality.

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