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Volume 10 Bug Chapter 150 Table World and Source World

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    Chapter 150: Table World and Source World

    "The key is concentration" Old Carlson's low and hoarse voice echoed in my ears. He stretched out his hand and pointed forward with his dry index finger along my gaze, "not just the gaze, but also  Your spirit, your will, your thinking, concentrate all your senses on one point - any point, it can be a brick, a weed, a blue sky, a white cloud, a living person  , or even nothingness - then penetrate it, tear it apart, expose it, and you will succeed"

    Listening to his guidance, I turned my attention to the moss-covered wall in front of me.  Through the cold and damp wall, I could see a slight crack on the wall made of rocks, extending from the upper right corner of the wall to the lower left corner.  When the crack passed through the surface of one of the rocks, it seemed to expand a bit, and a trace of darkness that was impossible to see through extended into the interior of the rock.  I stared at this crack, imagining that all my spirit would be transformed into two strong arms, deep into this crack, and then tearing outward with force, trying to tear this darkness apart.  Tear it a little bigger, and then a little bigger, until all the appearances in this world are torn into two pieces, and all the most original things in this world hidden deep inside are exposed.

    I never knew that maintaining an imagination with full concentration could be such a hard task.  I stared at the crack for an unknown amount of time, and then I felt as if all my brain matter began to churn violently, rushing to my forehead impatiently.  My consciousness began to swell, slapping my forehead over and over again like a tidal wave, as if it would not stop if it could not be stretched to the point of bursting.  I felt like I had a splitting headache. It was not an ordinary physical pain, but a kind of radiating pain from the inside out - even when I was under the spiritual spell of a warlock or a priest, it didn't hurt that much.  Pass.

    Even so, I didn¡¯t stop imagining.  I pressed both sides of my forehead tightly with both hands and squeezed toward the middle with all my strength, trying to use this method to temporarily suppress the consciousness gushing in my mind.  At the same time, I tried to imagine how sharp my eyes were, sharp enough to cut through the darkness in the crack, allowing me to see clearly what was hidden behind it.  I tried my best to plunge my consciousness deeply into the seemingly bottomless darkness, to explore and search, trying to find some truth hidden by the appearance of this world.

    Suddenly, a sharp pain came from between my eyes, and I felt that my consciousness suddenly became violent and sharp, like a chisel, ruthlessly carving a hole between my eyebrows.  hole.  In an instant, all consciousness, all thoughts, all awareness, and even all the power in my body rushed out from here, as if there was a vacuum of consciousness, trying to suck out every drop of my soul.  Nothing left.  At first, I only felt the muscles in my forehead begin to twitch slightly, but soon the twitching spread throughout my body, as if even my bones were spasming uncontrollably.  A numb and itchy feeling desperately stimulated all the nerves in the top of my head, making it impossible for me to concentrate on fighting the pain.

    "Ah" In a daze, I seemed to hear a shrill scream echoing deep in my soul.  But I soon discovered that the sound should come from a place closer to my ears¡ªmy mouth.

    "I don't know how long this pain tortured me - maybe a long time, maybe just a short moment - when I woke up again, I found that I had returned to old Carlson's mysterious stone house.  I fell limply to the ground, my clothes soaked with sweat.  A suffocating feeling was still stuck in my chest, making me very nauseous, but I didn't want to vomit.

    "Are you okay?" Old Carlson sat in front of me and asked with concern and concern.

    "Old guy, can't you see yourself?" I lay weakly on the ground, gasping for air, hoping that frequent breathing would dilute the congestion in my chest.

    "Since you are still thinking about bickering, it seems that you are fine" Hearing my answer, the old troll smiled.

    "Just nowwhat happened to me?" I turned my head and looked at Carlson and asked.

    Old Carlson smiled bitterly: "Actually, I am as curious as you about this question. I only know that you sat there quietly for more than an hour, and then suddenly collapsed on the ground. I have never seen anyone appear there.  Anyone who has lived through this situation, to be honest, if you don't regain consciousness, I will really be scared to death by you."

    "That's such a shame. If I had known you would be scared to death, I should have recovered later." After a short rest, I felt much better.

      "Fuck you, you uneducated war warrior!" As he said that, old Carlson stretched out his cane and hit my butt hard - I don't know what weird method he used, although he knocked my butt hard.  The spanking hurts, but doesn't draw blood. "This spanking is to teach you how to talk to someone who is older and wiser than you."

    "Oh!" I immediately jumped up holding my butt, grinning, and then retorted with resentment, "If you hadn't mastered these strange spells and I couldn't hit you at all, I should have taught you how to do it.  Show your respect to a hero who saved the world."

    Old Carlson waved his cane threateningly again, and I quickly jumped back further, staring defiantly out of his attack range.

    Then, as if we were suddenly infected by something, we laughed at the same time.

    "I really didn't feel the 'conscious energy' you called at all. At that time, I had concentrated all my strength on imagining. I imagined it as a sharp blade and tried to cut it with it.  The false appearance of this world; or imagine it as a hand, to tear it apart; or a sharp arrow, try to penetrate it I tried all the imagination I could try, but the result is just like you see  Nothing has changed. In my eyes, this world is still the real and irrefutable world. I can't see anything else" After a while, I told old Carlson about my feelings at that time.  .  I told him truthfully.

    After listening to my narration, Old Carlson fell into a brief thought, and then said to me: "You know, even though we are both awakened wishers, you and I still have many differences after all. For me,  Seeing through the colorful appearances and revealing the reality of the world is just my instinct after waking up. It is as easy as talking and walking. I can only tell you some of my feelings and let you try it yourself. As for why this happened to you  I can¡¯t explain it myself. However, in any case, our attempt was not in vain. At least, we also know a little bit"

    "What? What do you know?" I faced the old troll witch doctor's face covered with traces of time, looked at his wise eyes that seemed to have seen through everything in the world, and asked with curiosity and respect.

    "At least we knowwellthis method won't work!"

    ¡­¡­

    Although he just came up with a stupid idea that almost killed me, why do I think this conclusion is stupider than that idea?

    I must have been possessed just now to see any bullshit wisdom from that long blue face full of wrinkles and those eyes that were obviously suffering from advanced cataracts!  !  !

    ¡­¡­

    We all know that the old troll witch doctor Old Carlson has a special ability to see through this colorful world and restore it to a flat character composed of the two characters "1" and "0".  world.  He called the world visible to our naked eyes the "table world" and the character world the "source world".  He believes that the "surface world" is a form of existence built on the "source world" and is the reality we can see with the naked eye; while the "source world" is the true law of creation by the gods, and its expression  More direct and basic, with strict and profound laws, the endless digital codes composed of '0' and '1' are the language of God.  In this sense, the "origin world" should be the world in the eyes of the gods, a reality that is superior to reality.  Before the undeniable and irrefutable reality of the "Source World", everything in this world is just a superficial appearance.

    As the only being in the world whose soul is connected with his, he hopes that I can also learn and master this ability, and use it to observe, discover and study more realities in the world, and perhaps other more amazing discoveries.  , and maybe even find a way to communicate with the gods.

    I once thought that he was so eager to teach me this because he hoped that through my discovery outside the Gravel Fortress, I could help him find a way to liberate his imprisoned soul and allow him to gain complete freedom.

    However, when I asked him this question, he denied it with a smile:

    "Everything is not what you think, my young friend" Old Carlson looked at me candidly and meaningfully and said, "I do not deny that I am curious about the outside world, and I also admit that  I have some kind of curiosity and eagerness for the world outside this fortress, but I am not as eager to go out as you think - no, that is not the case, even if one day, let me leave from here  If I go out, I might stop moving forward because of fear. For me, the world here is vast enough, and everything in this fortress is, enough for me to spend my whole life observing and researching.  For me, the outside world is really too big. It¡¯s like the scenery outside the window is beautiful, but the inside of the window is my home.  I'm not just imprisoned here - I belong here!  I hope to teach you this ability because I think you may need it; and I also hope to have one more traveling companion on the road to exploring the origin of the world, that's all.  "

    "But, what about freedom?" I was very confused and puzzled by his attitude. "Complete liberation, complete freedom, everyone longs for this kind of happiness, and don't people like us long for it even more?  ?¡±

    "Total freedom?" Old Carlson chewed the phrase with a big smile, then shook his head and patted me on the shoulder and said to me, "You are wrong, my friend. No one needs any 'complete freedom'  , all we want is the freedom we 'need'. For me, the freedom in this fortress is enough, but I may not dare to bear more freedom."

    "But" I wanted to refute, but Carlson stopped me by waving his hand:

    "I don't expect you to understand these words now, my friend. But maybe one day you will also find that there are some freedoms that you dare not touch. Only then can you understand how I feel. And in  Until then, I hope you can enjoy more the freedom you dare to take on. I envy you and bless you, but I don¡¯t want to be you. You can just think of me as a lonely and eccentric old troll who is really idle.  You must be bored and want to find something to do for yourself"

    Although I am deeply confused by the old Carlson¡¯s attitude towards freedom, this will not stop an alchemist from being curious and thirsty for new knowledge.  I thought he would let me study in the sealed space he "created", but instead he brought me to a real copy of the fortress developed by some players.  Our location is at the top of a spire, and the stairs leading up from the tower have been completely destroyed, so neither the group of players nor the imperial garrison stationed in the fortress can detect us.  But even so, I'm still a little worried.

    "Why do you have to be here?" I asked Carlson, "Isn't it better to be in your little shabby room?"

    "A little shabby house?" Old Carlson, whose self-esteem was greatly hit, angrily hit me on the head with his cane. "You have to know that I decorated that little shabby house with at least 270  There are six layers of concealment settings, and there are 78 different targeted security measures. Even if you use divine power to conduct external scanning, you can only see nothingness. Even if the Supreme God searches with all his strength, I can support it at least one point.  It cannot be discovered within half an hour, and its security measures are constantly being upgraded. If you can see through my little 'broken' house at a glance, then you almost have enough ability to recreate a Farr  The Wei Continent is here. Now let you choose for yourself, a small 'shabby' house or this place?"

    Even though I couldn't see any difference between the two - and countless trials over the next few days proved that there really was no difference for me - I listened to Carlson.  The suggestion was left at the top of this tower.

    In the following time, I did a lot of training and attempts, trying to reach the state and state that Carlson said.  Whenever a group of players was about to end their journey in this dungeon, Old Carlson would immediately take me to the same location in the dungeon opened by another group of players to continue my practice.  Despite my best efforts and focus, my training was frustratingly ineffective.

    Old Carlson may be a learned wise man, a careful scholar, a keen explorer and an active researcher, but he is really far from the level of a good teacher: from the beginning, he turned over and over again.  Talking about: "concentrate", "gather your attention", "don't just look at the appearance", "see the reality behind the appearance" - these are big and inappropriate nonsense, but there is no specific way to do it.  What constructive comments.  And when I asked him: "Should I imagine my attention as a knife to peel the world apart" or "imagine it as a spear to pierce it", he would always tell me carelessly.  Me "It doesn't matter, as long as you think it will help you, whatever it is!"

    As you can imagine, this method of condensing consciousness obviously had no effect - in fact, if it really worked, I would have imagined that my consciousness was like a pair of pliers, pulling out the two fangs of this crappy teacher.  .

    After countless attempts for countless days and times, before my spirit completely collapsed, I finally realized the fact that for old Carlson, seeing through this"Representing the world" is an instinct he has been born with since the day his soul was liberated. Seeing the "original world" is as natural to him as speaking with his mouth and listening to sounds with his ears, and the more he  This kind of "instinct" power is harder to teach and harder to learn. Imagine how you can teach others to blink their eyes or sniff. You can't accurately describe these actions that seem natural to you.  Actions, and no matter how detailed you explain them, it is impossible for others to empathize with them.

    I wisely decided to give up this exercise for the time being. After all, I cannot make the exploration of the "Source World" my entire life.  In the world outside the fortress, I still have some tasks to complete, and many friends who need help.  Moreover, in my opinion, there is little point in my continuing to stay here: Carlson has taught me everything he can teach me, and what he cannot teach me, I need to try and learn by myself.  explore.

    Carlson also agreed with my opinion. He said goodbye to me with regret and asked me to visit him often.  I accepted his invitation and reluctantly said goodbye to this soul friend again and again - until he planned to send me off with a bowl of fresh "Teddy Sinno" according to the custom of the troll tribe.  I finally made up my mind and stepped out of the fortress gate without any hesitation.
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