Krafft's Notes on Anomalies

Kraft looked around with his sword, and there were only three people left including himself.

The middle-aged man who went to fetch water sat on the ground. The bucket rolled several meters away, and the water in it spread everywhere. As soon as he came back from fetching water, Kraft suddenly drew out his sword and hit the wooden wall behind him so hard that he was so frightened that he threw the bucket away.

Lucius was trembling next to him. He was standing closest just now, and the sword grazed his waist. If he was any closer, he would end up with the wooden wall.

He pressed his chest, and the hand holding the box was shaking, "So that one is sharpened?"

He had known for a long time that Kraft had a good sword, but because he always appeared as a scholar and a doctor, it made people think that he was just a representative of the family's martial arts history.

No one ever thought Kraft would actually pull it out one day.

"Perhaps I...had a nightmare?" Kraft drew his sword and looked around at a loss, but found no threat. He put the sword back into the scabbard angrily, "Did anyone approach me just now?"

That weird malice went away as quickly as it came, dissipating quickly in the sunlight, bursting like soap bubbles, trying to escape from memory.

But the consciousness faithfully recorded that feeling: sinking comfortably, sinking again, something quietly approaching, wrapping itself in a warm shell as part of a soft dream.

The malice hidden deep inside, and the huge contrast when exposed by a slight flaw, made Kraft feel frightened when he recalled it. Like the sudden ripples of your favorite cream soup, there are irregular black shadows swimming in the soup, which is a disgusting thing hidden under the surface.

Kraft felt that something had happened to him, whether it was a dream or not. This encounter seemed familiar and gave him a very bad premonition.

Looking inside the wooden wall through the crack, we can see that the owner of the house has long since left. The small and dark space is empty. It is impossible to hide a person, let alone pass through the wooden wall to create such a feeling.

Kraft walked up to the middle-aged man, bent down and helped him up, "I'm very sorry, I assure you it was just an accident. Your work is done, go back with the money."

He reached out to pat the dust off his body, but found that it was hard to say which one was dirtier than the clothes on the ground, which made him give up and go to pick up the fallen bucket.

There was still a little water left in the bucket, so Craft simply poured it out and watched the water line slowly drain away. There is no turbidity or floating objects. The clear water splashes a few muddy spots on the ground and seeps into the soil.

It had to be said that it was much better than expected. He had thought it would be the kind of water that was so full that he could not see the bottom of the bucket.

Just looking at it wasn't enough, he needed to carry a bucket back and take it to the academy to find some animals to try. It just so happened that everyone was gone now, so he could take a look at the well.

Holding the edge of the well and looking down, it was pitch black in the depths and the bottom could not be seen. When facing such a deep well, there is a fear of losing one's footing and falling. Uncontrollably, one imagines oneself rapidly approaching the dark, cold waters in a small space.

It's like the bottom leads to another world, which is completely opposite to the world that sunlight can illuminate. Behind the long and lightless tunnel is the portal to enter.

The bucket with the rope attached to it went all the way down, bumping along the wall of the well and touching the water.

Kraft looped the rope twice around his hand and lifted the bucket up. The wooden barrel filled with water is a bit heavy, and it pulls people towards its position as if it has its own will, trying to get him closer to the other side.

He felt the strange smell reappear, becoming noticeable as he neared the well's mouth.

Consciousness determined that it was not a signal from the sense of smell, but some kind of synaesthesia, and some more special information tried to express itself through the path of the sense of smell.

Needing no reminder, Kraft thought of something he had felt this way about before.

But...how is this possible?

He pulled the rope hard and pulled the bucket out of the well. No abnormalities could be seen in the clear water. But intuition, or some kind of higher sense developed after contact with alien things, insists that there is something here that shouldn't be there.

Kraft subconsciously rejected this reminder, but his consciousness moved involuntarily, matching the new information with the known memories.

"Lucius, can you come here?" He waved to Lucius.

The middle-aged man has left and there are no outsiders around. Some things need to be confirmed again.

Lucius approached the bucket, keeping a subtle distance from Kraft, and looked at the well water inside, "What's wrong? Is it really a water problem?"

He was still frightened by the sudden situation just now.

"I'm not sure, it's just that I suddenly thought of other questions." Kraft didn't pay attention to his little movement and shook the rope from the two circles around his hand. "I need you to recall something. It may be a little offensive, but I must not Do not ask."

"As long as I can recall it, there's nothing I can't say. As a reward, can you lend me your sword when you get back?" Feeling that the familiar Kraft was back, Lucius felt relieved, and turned to I became interested in Kraft's sword. What man can resist the temptation of a good-looking and easy-to-use weapon?

"Yes, as long as you don't cut your hand." This request is completely understandable, a good sword is so cool.

"What I want to ask is, what do you think of Professor Kalman's mental state a few days before he left?"

"Ah? Why do you ask this suddenly?" Once again, Lucius felt that he couldn't get along with such a jumping-thinking person.

"Just tell me what's going on. Is there a big difference from usual? You can say anything." Since he didn't realize why he asked this question, it would be better. Kraft needs to be as objective as possible and not be disturbed by emotions. Answer.

He used the tone as casually as possible to create a more relaxed conversation atmosphere for Lucius, which would help him recall more and talk more.

Lucius held his beak and thought for a while, then said: "I have never felt so good, even a little excited."

"Do you feel any changes in his personality? Especially the one that doesn't fit his previous image." Once you have doubts, you will feel that nothing is normal. This is Kraft's current mentality.

"If I have to say it, I feel that he is too impatient and always wants to do more experiments as quickly as possible."

"So he spends most of his time in the laboratory?"

"I haven't noticed this. Let me think about it...at least the time when the instructor leaves the academy doesn't change much every day. It's always in the evening."

"Anxious to complete more experiments in the academy, but unwilling to stay a little longer?" Kraft found the contradiction.

This alone is considered normal, but based on what is known so far, a conjecture that has never been thought of emerges.

The implication was so obvious that Lucius could hear it, "Are you saying that the mentor has other things to do outside? The sample is not..."

The rebuttal suddenly stopped, and he also discovered that there was a big problem here. Indeed, he did not know where some of the black liquid was used.

It makes sense why Kraft would ask this question now.

The scattered information is connected by a thread that has a beginning and an end.

"Your suspicion is completely unreasonable. Why would the mentor do this?" Lucius immediately denied it, even though this guess was in line with his original reasoning that it was related to black liquid.

Professor Kalman was his mentor for many years and his guide in medicine. It would not be an exaggeration to say that he was half a father. Whether it was from personal feelings or recognition of his moral level, Lucius could not admit to connecting the two.

"So you also think this can be said, right?" Kraft stared at Lucius, looking at each other through two layers of lenses, "Think about it carefully, whether it is supporting evidence or unsupporting evidence, it will all matter again. Think about it.”

Kraft himself was frightened by this outrageous speculation.

Although the time they got together was short, Professor Kalman still had a very positive image in his mind. A good man who is dedicated to academics and wants to develop medicine to treat diseases and save lives.

Even though he knew that Kalman had taken some samples away on his own, Kraft did not think of it at all in this direction. At most, he felt that there were some technical details that he wanted to keep secret.

Coupled with the strict control over the black liquid, every use was recorded, which gave him the illusion that he was in control, and he would rather believe that it was an unheard of special epidemic. Unexpectedly, the repeatedly perfected procedures lost their meaning when they missed the part that the professor took away.

The idea of ​​​​"professor using black liquid to poison" is really unbelievable.

Until now, he was standing in front of the water source that was basically the culprit. He had just suffered an attack that was both real and imaginary a few minutes ago.

That strange aura that was beyond comprehension was permeating the whole body, becoming stronger and clearer after realizing its existence.

He could feel it, but this time, it wasn't bound to a glass bottle.

It floats freely in the vast space, lodges in deep wells, dissolves in every bucket of water, and fills the boundless space.

This range is so wide that it is like an invisible lake hanging upside down in the air. Everyone who drinks the water from the well is affected by it and falls into it.

Kraft thought of his notes. The black liquid was indeed a medium, and falling asleep after drinking the diluted liquid should be just an external manifestation.

The real meaning is that people are exposed to another level in the process.

Normal people cannot accept and retain information that is different from this world, so after waking up, they will only have no impression of everything in their sleep.

However, for such a small amount of liquid to have a sustained and obvious effect on so many people at the same time, there must be other mechanisms. There is an effect similar to positive feedback to continuously amplify its impact.

Scope, number of people.

There is a "domain" similar to the black stone pillar that can affect all those around it who meet the conditions.

Within a certain range, when the number of people who have drunk it reaches a certain level, the degree of impact will be deepened and the scope will be increased. The increased scope can affect more people and wrap up more contacts to deepen the impact.

After affecting all nearby contacts, this "domain" can now extend beyond the salt tide area and reach Brad's home on Elm Street nearby.

It is like an invisible and qualityless lake, and those who are immersed in it are unaware of it. They only know that their sleep time is constantly lengthening.

And that evil and treacherous thing that disguises itself with softness, swims through it like a fish, and no one knows what it wants.