Chapter 1378

Quill and Rocket Raccoon decided to head to a newspaper office not far from Central Park, New York. This was an action based entirely on intuition, without careful consideration. In fact, it seemed neither this person nor this bear had the function of careful consideration.

Perhaps it was because they had experienced too many various dangers while wandering, so much so that when facing this kind of terrifying disaster, they could even hold a relatively relaxed mentality. At least Quill was quite relaxed, relaxed to the point of being scary.

And the cause of their action this time was that they didn't find anything in Central Park, New York, but discovered the corpse of a newsstand owner in a nearby newsstand and found a business card of a newspaper reporter on him.

The business card showed that the newspaper office wasn't far from here. In order to answer the question of "whether there was panic in society," Quill and Rocket Raccoon decided to go to the newspaper office to take a look. After all, the noses of many reporters from such small newspaper offices were like hyenas; they would create chaos even if there wasn't any, and if a little chaos occurred, they would immediately add fuel to the fire and report it.

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After arriving at the newspaper office, the two didn't spend much effort to find the file room and started flipping through that large pile of case files.

But what was somewhat disappointing was that this newspaper office, which didn't seem too famous, didn't spread rumors like some tabloid news channels. It seemed they were a media outlet focused on travel, so it wasn't strange that they were established near Central Park, New York.

A large amount of their reporting was about travel information in the New York area, and it seemed they also had cooperation with many travel agencies. There were a bunch of travel agency advertisements in the newspaper. The person and the bear flipped through it for a long time, but only flipped out various useless tourist attraction introduction information.

Quill stared at a sample issue of one of the magazines, looked at the date on it, and said: "Didn't we have a perpetual calendar at the entrance when we came in? Then judging by the publication date of this magazine, until 4 months ago, this newspaper office was still working normally. But the corpses on the road have been there for at least three months. With only ten days left until the end of the world, they still have the energy to report travel information?"

Quill was puzzled, but at this time, Rocket Raccoon shouted. He jumped down from the very top of the filing cabinet, holding a tabloid in his hand, and handed it to Quill.

Quill browsed the information on the tabloid and didn't find anything important. Then, when he looked at the date, he exclaimed: "Two months ago???"

If the end of the world broke out three months ago, how could there be a well-printed, beautifully produced tabloid from two months ago here?

Quill covered his eyes, trying hard to calculate with his somewhat slow brain: "We saw a corpse on the street. He might have died three months ago and just lay here after death, not moved by anyone."

"That is to say, three months ago, the situation had already deteriorated to the point where corpses were thrown everywhere on the street and no one cared. Then the public must have known that the end of the world had arrived. After all, who could not see so many corpses on the street?"

"Knowing that the end of the world had arrived and still not hiding at home, coming to the newspaper office to work, and still having the mood to print travel tabloids? In the years I haven't been on Earth, have humans developed to the point of being this crazy?"

"Could it be that the people trapped in the newspaper office were cultivating their own sentiments?" Rocket Raccoon proposed a possibility and said: "I have also encountered some people hiding in doomsday shelters before. They would find some fun for themselves as much as possible to prevent going crazy in loneliness."

"Then how long did they hide in the shelter?"

"About a few decades, I guess."

"But the apocalypse has only broken out for a few months now. How big must this person's heart be? After the city was destroyed and corpses were everywhere for a few months, they could immediately adjust their mentality and start entertaining themselves?"

Rocket Raccoon fell into silence. Clearly, Quill successfully convinced him. He felt that as long as it was an intelligent life form, it was impossible to be this heartless.

It was possible to find some fun after hiding for decades, but only hiding in for a few months, and still being in an environment that wasn't safe, to have the mind to write a long passage of beautiful text praising the scenery—if they had this kind of willpower, shouldn't they have survived until today?

"Too strange." Quill sighed and continued: "This place is full of mysteries, but I firmly believe that there must be a key. Perhaps it's in these documents."

After speaking, he started flipping through them again. Rocket Raccoon had nothing else to do, so he could only join him. About ten minutes later, Quill's movements stopped. Rocket Raccoon jumped onto his shoulder and stared at a newspaper in his hand together with him.

That wasn't a tabloid, but a regular newspaper. Although the newspaper of this office wasn't serious either, clearly there was more information on it. And Quill's gaze fell on a notice in the center of the front page.

"White Rose Travel Group Clarification: The rumor that the youth travel group accepted by our company last month engaged in mutual self-mutilation is completely false. The travelers accidentally slipped and fell off the cliff in the scenic area, resulting in 6 people injured, and they have all been sent to the hospital for treatment. As determined by the New York State Court, our company does not bear the responsibility for lack of guardianship. The following is the judgment..."

Quill looked at the photo of the judgment published. The general meaning was that 6 travelers were injured during the travel process of a certain travel group, but the cause was that they didn't listen to the travel agency's arrangements and went out to climb the mountain in the middle of the night, leading to them rolling down from the mountain. The travel agency didn't bear responsibility.

Quill squinted his eyes. He instinctively felt that this report had a problem, so he looked at the time and found that the printing time of this newspaper was quite early, at least half a year ago.

"Self-mutilation!" Rocket Raccoon exclaimed: "This is the key!"

Quill didn't react, but Rocket Raccoon had already stared into his eyes and said: "Do you know how much psychological trauma your self-mutilation event of cutting off your own arm caused me? Maybe these people are the same as you!"

Quill froze. Then he patted his thigh with his only remaining hand and said: "It's possible! That is to say, the fear attack I encountered at night might have been encountered by someone more than half a year ago."

"They might have encountered this kind of attack on a night during their travels, ran out uncontrollably, and then self-mutilated. And science couldn't explain this matter, so the court believed they were on a whim and didn't listen to the travel agency's arrangements, so they determined the travel agency had no responsibility."

And then Quill suddenly thought of something and said: "That is to say, suffering an attack at night is a precursor to the disaster. It's first having an attack, then having a disaster, rather than happening at the same time, and the time difference is even quite large."

"Are they in a causal relationship? Did the attack lead to this disaster?" Quill showed a shocked expression and said incredulously: "Does the attack at night cause monsters to hatch from human shells? Is this some kind of sowing process?"

Rocket Raccoon shivered and pushed Quill, saying: "Stop talking, it's too disgusting."

"No, there's one more point. Since the attacks didn't happen at the same time, then the hatching of each person might not have happened at the same time either. And the time difference here is enough for the FBI or similar organizations to make a reaction."

Quill stood up immediately. Rocket Raccoon didn't know where he was going, so he could only hurriedly move his short legs to chase behind him.

Quill walked out of the file room in big strides and came to the office downstairs. Just after coming down from the stairs, Quill saw a clump of slime traces stuck next to the water dispenser.

He resisted the nausea and walked over, looking up and down at the water dispenser. This was an old-fashioned water dispenser. After pressing the button, the water would flow out, and it didn't need electricity, so it could still be started.

The slime traces spread from next to the water dispenser to an office closest to the water dispenser. Quill said in a mocking tone: "Don't tell me that newborn monster babies are also good children who love to drink water?"

After speaking, he lifted his leg and walked into the office, and then saw the slime traces all the way to the desk. There was an old-fashioned computer used by the newspaper office on the desk, a mug next to the keyboard, there was water in the mug, and more importantly, there was that kind of slime on the mug too.

Facing the mug, Quill suddenly froze because a terrifying thought appeared in his mind—

Monsters don't need to drink water.

But this monster wanted to drink water.

Did it not realize it didn't need to drink water, or did it not realize it was a monster?

Quill felt a shudder all over. He suddenly realized that he had grasped that key, the key to the door beneath all these strange, abnormal, and calm appearances.

No one realized that monsters had appeared.

They were working and living normally, solving basic physiological needs, following the life path they had planned step by step, and even had the leisure to write travel tabloids.

All of this was just because they didn't realize at all that they had become a mass of sticky tentacles, and similarly didn't realize that others had also become like this.

Quill felt dizzy, and terrifying scenes kept appearing in his mind.

A clerk with half his head missing and only countless tentacles of varying lengths stared intently at the screen, proofreading. A reporter with more than a dozen hook-feet covered in whiskers extending from his abdominal cavity ran in hurriedly, picked up the water cup and took a sip of water, and behind him, another employee whose lower limbs had completely disappeared and whose internal organs were hanging on tentacles walked in carrying water just taken from the water dispenser.

This is more terrifying than hell, Quill thought.

Because hell is abnormal, everyone knows that the hell scene full of flames is not normal, but who would doubt that having five fingers on one hand is not normal?

Are five fingers normal? Or is this also a kind of terrifying, disgusting dense tentacle, just because everyone is like this, and no one can realize it?

Quill took a deep breath, trying hard to drive those terrifying hallucinations out of his mind. He finally understood why no one was prepared before the disaster broke out, and why no one fell into panic or created chaos after the disaster broke out.

Because in the eyes of these New York citizens, there was no disaster. Everyone was just working as usual and going home to accompany their families.

And thinking of this, Quill suddenly thought of another thing. If there was no disaster here and everyone was like this, then was the abnormal one him?

Could it be that in the eyes of these monsters, he was also a monster?

And then, he extended to another question: then where did these monsters, or rather these deformed humans, go?

Quill turned his head and saw the sunlight of the sunset shining into the room, appearing somewhat warm in this office full of slime. He suddenly felt a sense of grief.

If humans just changed into a form of existence, then the fluke mentality that those monsters were all eliminated would turn into another complex taste—should humans in another form of existence be eliminated?

Quill glanced at the travel tabloid he was holding in his hand. The wording was beautiful and full of longing. It's not hard to imagine that perhaps the reporter who wrote this report would choose to go to the scenic spot he had praised with his family during this holiday.

Perhaps this was a trip full of tentacles and slime, but would they no longer feel happy because of this? Would there be no more beautiful memories?

Perhaps they had long since changed their way of thinking and no longer used the thinking and emotions that humans could understand to perceive this world, but they also had a clear feeling of being alive and another level of joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness.

But someone destroyed all of this.

Quill stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window and looked at the beautiful scenery of Central Park, New York, under the sunset. He really didn't want to compare himself to a slime monster that might have existed.

But if this monster could no longer appreciate the scenery and could only appreciate the absurd, then perhaps, the absurd also has the beauty of the absurd.

Following the endless and magnificent sunset, from the huge temple that had long since disappeared without a trace, came the "rumbling" sound of the evening drum, and within it was also mixed a barely perceptible sigh full of guilt.