330 Chapter 52, Six Thousand Cycles

Accompanied by Hoffa's rise.

Finally, the screen playing in the cinema paused.

Then, a dark figure stood up from the chair in the front row of the cinema. When did someone sit there alone, Hoffa asked himself, he didn't know at all, that guy didn't make a sound the whole time.

But when the man turned around, Hoffa took a step back in shock.

With the light of the cinema screen, he could clearly see the appearance of the man, with a half-bald head, wrinkled skin, and golden eyes. He was over sixty years old. It was the old Huo who had shot himself in the head before. Fa, at this moment he was standing quietly in front of him.

When Miller saw that guy, he was more surprised than seeing Barty Jr. kill his father a dozen times. He moved his thigh and spilled Coke all over the floor.

"It's you!" Hoffa said in horror, "You're not dead?"

The old man shook his head, "You've got the wrong person."

"But you" Hoffa pointed at him dumbfounded, puzzled.

"ah,"

The old man smiled slightly and shook his head: "Don't get me wrong, this is Death's trick to play with life. I'm not the person you imagined, I'm just a copy of Death, just like the previous two guys, they're all counterfeit. Nothing, only you are the real Hoffa Bach."

Miller, sitting next to Hoffa, looked relieved.

Hoffa didn't dare to relax. He tensed his nerves and looked at the old man in front of him, and said vigilantly, "You look much more sober than those two."

"Yeah, sometimes the gods can't control their own creations, especially at my level."

The old man looked at his palm, and said indifferently with appreciation: "He gave me too much strength, which gave me a certain degree of freedom."

As he said that, the dark movie theater opened up like a cardboard box, bright sunlight fell from the dome, the street rose from the ground, colorful parasols opened, and the bright sandy beach appeared at Hoffa's feet, a breeze blew by, and he Found himself and Miller in tropical Hawaiian shirts standing on a beach lined with coconut palms and bikini beauties.

On the beach, the old man handed Hoffa and Barty Jr. two glasses of smoothies, with lemons and small umbrellas stuck in the smoothies.

Hoffa took the gift from the old man in a daze, completely unaware of what kind of medicine he was selling in his gourd.

Wearing sunglasses, the old man was sitting lazily near the mobile ice cream stand, looking at the waves in the distance, and casually asked: "You just watched the movie for so long, so, tell me, Hoffa, why are you so young?" Barty would have killed his father."

Hoffa didn't know why the old man asked him this question, but he still thought for a long time and said:

"It's very complicated. Old Batty seems to be a workaholic. Moreover, he looks down on his son very much. And Batty Jr. can't make his father face him face to face through legitimate means. So... tragedies will happen again and again."

"Is it just that simple?"

"Is there any other reason?"

Hoffa was puzzled.

"Fate." Miller said.

Hoffa: "What?"

"Children will always subconsciously imitate the character of those closest to them, whether they want to or not."

Miller took a sip of the smoothie, "Father and son are so similar, they are almost the same. The only difference is that Barty Jr. was unlucky and followed Voldemort. If Voldemort hadn't collapsed, he should have become the same person as his father. "

"That's not right." Hoffa frowned: "I think almost all of Barty Jr.'s hobbies are the opposite of his father's."

"I've heard that only doctors who have the ultimate understanding of men's bodies are qualified to perform sex reassignment surgery on men.

He must have understood that his father knew the extreme, so that he could make the completely opposite choice, but he did not know that the opposite of extreme is still extreme. The cause of their tragic fate may be precisely due to this extreme character. "

Saying that, Miller sighed: "Poor guy."

"Is he right?" Hoffa asked the old man puzzled.

The old man just shook his head: "I don't know, I'm just curious. What you said makes sense, but it's a pity that something is missing."

Hoffa: "Then can I ask a question out of curiosity?"

"Just ask."

"What kind of game is this? Did you win, or did I win?"

Hoffa asked the question he wanted to know the most. This is his last opponent. According to Avada, as long as he wins, he can take Aglaia and leave Helheim.

But the old man shook his head with a wry smile: "If you believe that the god of death is playing with you, you can't win, just like a gambler can never win against a dealer."

Hoffa shivered, from the top of his head to the soles of his feet.

The old man closed his eyes, took a sip of the juice intoxicatedly, and muttered lightly, "Can you do me a favor? Hoffa Bach."

"What?"

"Come here." The old man beckoned to him.

Hoffa tilted his head.

I just heard the old man put his head against his ear and whispered,

"I can help you leave Helheim, but under the power of death, I can only fight for you for three minutes. During these three minutes, all the factors that are not good for you have been transformed into dreams by me, but Within three minutes, you must rush to the exit of Helheim's Thorn Road and leave here."

Hoffa thumped in his heart, trying to move his head away.

The God of Nightmare grabbed his arm and said in an unrecognizable voice, "Help me, don't follow that man's old path."

After finishing speaking, the gray-haired, golden-eyed old man in front of him collapsed instantly, turning into pieces of broken glass, and the surrounding tropical beach scenes were all shattered.

When he opened his eyes again, Hoffa returned to the mysterious realm of death, standing in Aglea's crypt.

It didn't seem long, maybe a few minutes, or maybe a few seconds.

Aglaia still picks and chooses in front of the stone cabinet with a blank expression.

Little Barty got up from Hoffa with a confused face, rubbed his eyes, and looked at him with a sleepy look: "What happened, Bach first, I seem to have fallen asleep."

three minutes!

Hoffa thought of what the old man said to him in the dream, his heart was pounding, and his adrenaline was crazily secreted. He immediately rushed to Aglaia, speaking very fast:

"Is that flying rabbit with big ears still there? Let me use it. I'll take you to the Way of Thorns."

When he said this, he was trembling with excitement.

But Aglaia looked at him, and for the first time in those blue eyes that had been invisible for a long time, there was some other emotion, it was sympathy and sadness like watching a baby in the rain.

"Let's go!"

Hoffa tried to grab her hand, but passed through her body.

"Where do you want to take me?" She asked calmly, "Are you resurrecting me again? Don't think about it, there is no container to carry the soul, and I cannot leave the underworld."

"Damn it! Don't you know how to refine your body?"

Hoffa pointed to the big cauldron, "How many people have you created bodies for, why didn't you create one for yourself?"

Time passed by every minute and every second, and more than ten seconds passed quickly in three minutes, but Aglaia said unhurriedly:

"My refined body can only last for one day, and it will decay in one day. When the time is up, I will return here. It is meaningless, Hoffa. Go wherever you want, leave me alone, I have already died."

"That's not your fate!" Hoffa said excitedly, "That's Grindelwald's conspiracy!!"

"Colleague, that's your past too, accept it."

Hoffa: "No."

"No?"

Aglaia's tone was unusually excited: "Do you remember Sisyphus who pushed the stone, Prometheus whose heart was eaten by a vulture, and Peverell who kept jumping?" !?

These are heroic spirits among human beings, who want to fight against the god of death just like you, think about their end, don't you understand? "

Time passed quickly during the conversation, and Hoffa was so anxious that at this juncture, the girl was not willing to leave at all. He stamped his feet hastily,

"I'm sorry, I can give up everything else, but I can't for this one.

They lost the game, I didn't lose, none of the three opponents destroyed me, and I wouldn't be hung on the Path of Thorns. "

"Didn't lose?"

Aglaia's indifferent expression has finally loosened. Without warning, she knelt down and said in a desperate trembling voice: "You always thought you didn't lose, but did you win again? Hoffa, haven't you lost yet?" Do you understand? You, like them, are repeating an endless loop of fate!"

"What?" Hoffa opened his mouth in amazement.

"The god of death deprived me of the ability to lose my memory, and prevented me from walking through Helheim, the underworld, and entering reincarnation. The purpose is to watch you die again and again.

This is my punishment for saving you, and your punishment for saving Hogwarts, we all did things that should never have happened. We all do things we shouldn't.

Think about it carefully, don't you have the illusion that all this has happened before? Do you not have the power to perform everything in life according to the script? "

Hoffa paled even more.

Aglaia closed her eyes in despair, leaning against the wall: "Your cycle is scarier than Sisyphus, Prometheus, and Peverell.

In your eyes, everything is new, everything is the first time, but in my eyes, you have entered Helheim more than 6,000 times, told me more than 5,000 bad jokes in front of me, and fell on one knee Kneeling more than 500 times, participated in more than 6,000 games of death, killed Davis more than 400 times, was helped by the so-called self more than 3,000 times, and left here more than 6,000 times. "

Hoffa stood there as if struck by lightning. At this moment, the sense of instantaneity that has continued to this day was extremely strong, as if countless fragments of Aglaia's images were combined in his mind to form a nearly physical illusion. Some of them are laughing, some are crying, some are full of expectation, some are desperate, some are indifferent

Listening to Aglaia's words, Miller, who was lodged in Hoffa's right arm, opened his mouth, his tongue hanging long, like a hanged ghost. Little Barty on the side was completely dumbfounded: "Six thousand six thousand times what?"

Aglaia looked at Hoffa and cried tremblingly: "Do you know how happy I was when I saw you for the first time? I will never forget it for 300,000 years. I see you with hope and accompany you Defeating one enemy after another, I sent you out of the underworld with full expectations. But what I waited for was you one after another."

"Time and time again, time and time again, there is no time in the underworld, so I use the human body to time the time. It takes one day for a body to be born to decay. Do you know how many bodies I have refined here? Do you know ?”

Hoffa backed back involuntarily until he fell to the ground. At this moment, countless image fragments of Aglaia's crying were combined layer by layer, tearing his heart apart.

"I'm tired, I'm bored, I've had enough, but no matter what I say, whether it's good or bad, scolding you, ignoring you, arguing or begging, you will always Participating in the death game, you must want to take me out of here! I appreciate your kindness, but you can't do it.

Do you think you can escape your fate by leaving Helheim? You can't change anything, and no one can be revived. The self you see in the arena is the future you. "

Aglaia became more and more excited as she spoke, and finally she pointed to the sky, sobbing in despair and powerlessness: "Death puts the future in front of you, but you can't change it no matter what, this is the scariest thing, Hoffa, you Behind him is an endless cycle of fate. It is more terrifying than death, a meaningless cycle, a cycle in which nothing can be changed."

The strong sense of sight almost shattered Hoffa's vision, and the gloomy but vain pain made him bend down uncomfortably. He clutched his palm tightly, unable to speak.

six thousand times.

fifty years at a time

Even if time flows faster in the underworld, how many thousands of years?

If no matter how hard he tried, his fate had already been arranged, so what was the point of what he was doing now?

Aglaia slowly floated to Hoffa, caressed his face with transparent hands, and begged in a low voice: "Man can't win God, give up, Hoffa, I beg you, don't Go, stay here, I really can't stand it anymore, I can't hold on anymore, it's too uncomfortable, even if it's for my sake, please, don't go out, just die like this."

Time passed by every minute and every second. After a while, Hoffa's broken consciousness was slowly pieced together. He asked hoarsely: "Stay in the underworld, what can we do?"

"Stay in the underworld and don't do anything. When I can create a perfect body, we can live in Helheim just like in the real world, okay?"

Aglaia said desperately but gently.

Seeing her like this, Hoffa was so uncomfortable that he almost collapsed. He tried all his strength to calm himself down, "Before... the six thousand times before, how many times have you told me."

Aglaia covered her face in despair: "I have told you this conversation more than five hundred times, but not once, you are willing to listen to me, not once."

The little Barty on the side was already dumbfounded. Just the girl's narration was shocking, and Miller no longer struggled. They stared at Hoffa stupidly, waiting for his decision.

"No, I'm not staying here."

Hoffa clutches his chest: There's no breath here, no sun, no hope, nothing, nothing. I'm going to get you out of here, I have to"

"You've said it thousands of times, Hoffa! You don't remember, you don't know! You can't save me, you can't save anyone, you can't even save yourself!!"

Aglaia grabbed her hair and backed away in despair, "I can't watch you die, and I can't leave you alone, it's useless if I say it, and it's useless if I don't say it. As fate must. I am too difficult, I am too difficult, I am too difficult!"

"Calm down!" Hoffa quickly hugged her, but his arm passed through her body again.

"Go, go, I know your character."

Aglaia looked at his face and turned her head in despair, "I know you, you won't bow to anything."

She clapped her hands, and the tall stone puppet pulled out a box, opened it in front of him, and dumped a flying jackrabbit in front of him:

"Let's go, hahaha, let's go, at worst, do it again, do it again."

She smiled weakly, walked around the cauldron in the room, and disappeared behind the densely packed cabinets: "Let's go. Let's go, what should be said has already been said."

"Aglaia!"

Hoffa watched her back disappear into the room bleakly, and called out her name. There were ten thousand thoughts in his heart to catch up, but he realized that his only three minutes were running out, so he stopped abruptly. pace.

A certain strong desire erupted from the bottom of Hoffa's heart, it was the desire to resurrect her, it was his promise to Fatil, and the inertia of more than six thousand cycles.

He raised his head, took a deep breath, and let it out again, forcefully suppressing the extremely gloomy and desperate sense of sight.

"Wait for me."

He stopped looking at the place where Aglaia disappeared, and turned around suddenly and walked to Little Barty.

Little Barty couldn't even stand up, he didn't know exactly what happened, just felt some fragments of information, he was already overwhelmed by the utter despair, he pointed at himself incoherently , "I me. You. You. She. What. What is six thousand times? Six thousand times. There is also me?"

"Shut up."

Hoffa's expression was as cold as a sculpture.

He couldn't help but pull up Little Barty, rode on the long-eared rabbit, and said to the long-eared rabbit, "Go to the road of thorns."

The long-eared rabbit opened its ears and flew out from the gap torn open by the son of the night god.

Outside, all the existences in the Mysterious Death Realm were temporarily controlled by the God of Nightmare.

Hoffa rode a jackrabbit, flew past Avada who sat smiling and sleeping on the balloon, flew past countless sleepwalking ghosts in the sky, flew over the road of thorns, flew over Sisyphus pushing stones, and flew over the Prometheus, who was pecking at the heart, flew over the jumping Peverell, and passed through the opened barrier.

Along the way, he didn't say a word.