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Fors was stunned: "What?"

"Because I created a character that is no longer thin.^k_a!n¨s\h?u\z￠h¨us/ho,u~.*c′o^m?"

"She fell into darkness because of her paranoia, and was madly trying to prove herself and take revenge on her enemies, even at the cost of implicating hundreds of innocent people."

"But at the same time, she retained a trace of kindness and sealed away her dark self. Then, she teamed up with her former 'enemy' and defeated her dark self."

"In the end, the darkness disappeared, the hatred was reconciled, the innocent people were spared, the kind people were rewarded, and she was redeemed..."

Jessica's body gradually became transparent, but her face was filled with a bright smile:

"How about it, do you think... this kind of role is acceptable?"

Fors was silent for a moment, then smiled:

"I passed."

"Oh, you're lying."

She looked up at the Holy Light of Darkness on the wall and murmured, "Perhaps, I shouldn't have chosen to be a writer from the beginning."

At this moment, she suddenly looked into Fors' eyes and said seriously, "Be careful... the person who controls me and controls all this, he..."

Her body fell limply.

Fors subconsciously reached out to hug her, but watched her disappear between her hands, and heard her last words:

"I forgot to tell you that what you just hastily wrote is really... terrible."

...

In the church during the day.

Klein attacked the monster in the church again and again, cutting off its tentacles, peeling off its scales, and even smashing its head, trying to find its weakness in this way.

Although he was met with failure after failure, Klein found that the monster's recovery speed was getting slower and slower. From the beginning, it was like time was going backwards, until later when it struggled to squeeze out the bullets in its body and slowly repaired the wounds on its body.

Bang bang bang!

He snapped his fingers repeatedly, releasing air bullets, and took advantage of the gaps to continuously shoot precious demon-hunting bullets. When the tentacles lashed at him, he turned into flames and dodged, followed by a ray of holy light.

whoosh!

A shadow shot towards the place where Klein's flame jumped and landed. Klein flicked out the match again and tried to jump, but he failed - he had very little spiritual power left!

Bang!

Klein felt as if he had been hit by a car and flew several meters away. His internal organs seemed to be shattered by the impact and he vomited a large amount of blood.

But he gritted his teeth, forced himself to roll to avoid the second blow from the tentacle, and found the time to shoot another demon hunting bullet, breaking the tentacle.

Huff, huff.

Klein was breathing heavily, his vision was a little blurry, and his whole body was burning with pain.

"No, there's only one last bit left."

This kind of head-on confrontation is not suitable for a magician at all...

but...

He stood up shakily and loaded the last few demon-hunting bullets into his revolver.

Who says that magicians always have enough time to prepare for every performance? Who says that magicians don't have to perform on the spur of the moment due to unexpected situations? Who says that magicians can't perform without preparation?

Klein took a deep breath, squeezed out the last bit of strength in his body, and pointed his revolver forward.

"bring it on."

At this time, hundreds of tentacles of the huge monster began to twist wildly one after another, trying to fall off the body, and let out a shrill scream.

"It's done!"

Klein's eyes lit up with joy. This was because the bottle of biological toxin that he had thrown out and swallowed by it had finally worked.

The twisting tentacles attacked its own body, desperately trying to escape the virus infection, but after finally breaking free from the body, they quickly shriveled, dried up, and disappeared, and their vitality was visibly lost with the naked eye.

When the last tentacle broke free, the remaining part of the monster fell from the ceiling and landed heavily on the ground, and the book and pen in his hand also fell with it.

It groaned in pain and tried to move its hands to reach the pen, but it was too weak and couldn't even raise its arms.

"bite."

Klein flicked up a coin to make sure it wasn't in disguise. He walked up to it, kicked the book and pen away, and then put the revolver against its head.

For the first time it made a dry sound:

"I...haven't...finished...my..."

Klein fired without hesitation:

"You write very well, don't write again in your next life."

Chapter 337 Photos Falling from the Sky

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

It only took one bullet to blow its head into pieces, but Klein still shot out all the bullets in the magazine. It was not known whether it was for insurance or to vent his anger.

This game was so painful.

Mingming finally solved the "puzzle" on the back of his hand, and woke up here through suicide and the prayers of the Tarot Club, but what greeted him was a protracted battle that did not give him the chance to prepare in advance.

Fortunately, he won in the end.

At this moment, a feeling surged in his heart——

The magician's potion was completely digested.

After a while, Klein adjusted his mood and cast his gaze towards the book and pen on the ground. His eyes lit up:

"Is this pen the seal that can create coincidences and control others?"

He walked quickly forward and bent over to take it.

Suddenly, everything around became illusory, then transparent and disappeared.

He didn't know how long it had passed before he found himself in a dilapidated village. Not far away was an old church that was both familiar and unfamiliar. His consciousness was hazy for a moment, and he realized:

"I came out of the book..."

The next second, lost memories came flooding back into his mind: the surprise of coming to the town for the first time, the exploration step by step, the horror of seeing the residents as monsters, being hunted, killed, exploring, killed, exploring, killed...

His memories gradually faded away. The first thing he forgot was what happened after he arrived in the town, followed by the memories before he traveled through time, until he forgot everything above the gray fog.

"No wonder… I left the clue on the back of my hand later." - Normally, when an investigation makes progress, in order to avoid forgetting or being tampered with, the relevant clues should be left on the gray fog.

It turned out that it wasn't that I didn't want to stay, but that I had already forgotten what it was like above the gray fog.

At this time, figures appeared one after another around them. Most of them were at a loss, not knowing what had happened, while a small number of them cried out in relief for having survived the disaster. Cynthia was frantically touching something on her body.

As for Fors, she sat on the ground in a daze, holding something in her hands.

...

On the other side, Edward also woke up from his spiritual world. As soon as he opened his eyes, he saw the headless gray-white dragon corpse still lying quietly in front of him - a dazzling extraordinary characteristic was lying quietly on the ground.

This time, he is really dead!

Tsk, this guy's battle record is second only to Master Rosago, another one of the two pillars.

A noise came from far away.

Edward looked back and saw that the once deserted village was now bustling with rescued people everywhere. Members of the three major churches' extraordinary organizations had also rushed over at some point and were trying to comfort the people.

As for those people from Military Intelligence Department, they had long disappeared.

Horamick came over and said, "Mr. Edward, your friend should be out too."

Edward quickly stood up and said, "Thank you for your help."

"No, I couldn't help you."

Horamick's face darkened, and he opened his mouth to speak but stopped. However, he quickly straightened his face and said, "But this matter is not over yet."

"ah?"

"The pen."

Edward understood. He took out the novel and the quill from his leather bag and handed them to Horamick without hesitation.

Although the feather pen is good, most people can't use it, not to mention that a white-robed priest may jump out and take it away at any time.

"Huh?"

Horamick just took the quill, his brows knitted tightly together: "This pen... why does it seem to be..."

Bang.

The feather pen turned into countless points of light.

"Fake..."

Edward was stunned: "How could it be fake?!"

Buzz,

The broken spots of light gathered into a crystal clear energy and suddenly injected into the novel held by Edward. It broke free from Edward's fingers, flew into the air, and burst into brilliant light.

For a moment, everyone present looked over.

boom!!

The novel exploded.

Countless paper-like objects gushed out with the explosion, covering the sky above the village and floating down.

The piece of paper floated lower and lower.

When it reached a certain height, the people present reached out to take it curiously.

Edward also picked up a few:

"Is it a photo?"