Break Through the Steam Game Library - Vol 8 Chapter 47

The rain and the salty sea, the night temperature dropped sharply, and the man felt cold and wet. This was summer in the northern hemisphere. The warm North Atlantic current passed through the water that brought warmth to the equator, but the sailors on the sea had only the bitter cold to accompany them.

The men and women were still chattering, the sampan boat moved slowly in the undulating waves, the bow was raised high, and then fell gently, the tide of the sea gave the people on the boat a great cradle and endless dreams, Everything was dimmed in the dense darkness, the kerosene lamp hoisted from the bow of the ship swayed non-stop, and Booker DeWitt stared at the kerosene lamp, and at the depths of the sea fog, a fat lighthouse with a magnificent outline was faintly visible.

He turned his head and looked in the direction he had come. He didn’t see the shadow of the coast or the land. He looked forward to the left and right, and he didn’t see any ships.

Only their sampan sailed quietly on a noisy rainy night. The destination is clearly visible, the origins and remote paths have disappeared into the depths of darkness, leaving him with only one choice, and Booker’s heart is filled with confusion and anxiety.

Time passed slowly, and Booker didn’t know how long he had been on the boat. His hands and feet were completely numb. At this time, the thick clouds were faintly glowing, and it was about to dawn.

“Excuse me! How long will it take to arrive?”

The woman in the raincoat sitting on the front partition turned and handed a thin wooden box. The brass nameplate on the front of the box is engraved with the following words: This thing belongs to Booker DeWitt, the seventh regiment, Wounded Knee River

Mr. Booker DeWitt has no impression of this box, but it does look like an old item. Open the lock and pull up the lid of the box. Two pieces of paper are stuck on the inner wall of the lid, one is the puzzle of the treasure map, and the other is the postcard of the Columbia Memorial Island. The contents of the box are very simple, a Mauser C96 pistol, a photo of a girl named Elizabeth, a key, some coins, and a card printed with the coordinates of New York.

“I don’t understand.” Booker turned the picture of the girl over and said on the back: Bring her back to New York unscathed. “Who is this girl?” He mentioned the kerosene lamp he brought with him, and carefully observed the girl in the black and white photo. It’s a sideways photo. It doesn’t look like a photo with the back end allowed. She looks at a teenage girl student’s dress with a butterfly-shaped hairband. She has a nice side face and a well-proportioned body. She seems to be of a figure. Healthy girl.

No one answered him. The man was complaining about his coolie, and the woman quarreled with him enthusiastically. They enjoyed it, and the lighthouse pier was near.

He didn’t know what he had come until Booker was confused on the shore, and the two strange men rowed away.

The sky is dim, but the sun has indeed risen. At this time, Mr. DeWitt had only melancholy left in his heart. He was standing on the cold and cold old dock.

The strange thing is that a strong sense of mission fills Booker’s anxious and horrified heart. At this moment, he does not remember his intention at all, but when he observes the girl’s photo again, he has no doubts about his mission.

Find this girl and take her back to New York… Mr. Booker thought to himself: My wealth is enough to raise such a girl. It’s so good. Everything is perfect. Just get this girl.

Sometimes a person can be a prince to save the princess once in middle age. Booker is a decent person, he can be polite, hoping that the road ahead will be open to a lucky thief like him.

Walking along the wharf, you arrived at the lighthouse. The lighthouse stood on a miserable and narrow reef island. There were no extra buildings here. The waves washed away. He held the kerosene lamp and the box reluctantly, walking slowly and crunchingly. On the pier wooden planks. Under the dim lights of the street lights of the pier, the stranded fisherman’s boat on the reef beach cast a short silent shadow on the water-lit rock wall.

It doesn’t look like it can be used for life in any way, and Booker guessed that the girl named Elizabeth might be acting as a caretaker in the lighthouse. She doesn’t look like such a strong person. The guards of the lighthouse are often elderly single men. Their heavy and depressing temperament is the same as that of a reef. Booker climbs up the steps and looks up at the gate. The Fresnel lens on the top of the tower projects the miserable atmosphere. Cold white light.

The clouds are so thick, perhaps this heavy rain will turn into a thunderstorm. The cold beam of light from the lighthouse swept over the depressive and damp atmosphere over and over again. The distant land was never seen in such a sad morning. The sea fog was huge. Although the sky was getting brighter, Booker only felt that the sea was getting more and more. Squeezing and disappearing on all sides, the beacons floating on the sea gradually disappeared in the depths of the fog. Finally, after half an hour of contemplation, the first thunderbolt hit the sky.

The electric light flickered in the distance, and the thunder rolled in. Turning to look at it, the white and delicate foam was dazzled by the thunder light on the folds of the stormy sea. Booker grumbled and finally pushed open the door of the lighthouse. He noticed the **** note sticking to the door, which read “DeWitt-give that girl to us, and your debt will be written off. This is your last chance.”

The wealthy Mr. Booker didn’t know whose debts he owed. There were many people who owed him money, and he never used such terrible threats-bloody notes-to intimidate debtors. His wealth allows himself to be generous, but it is obvious that the person who wrote this note is not as kind as he is.

After entering the door, a notice board was posted on the central load-bearing column on the first floor of the lighthouse: I want to wash away your sins.

On the table under the sign were a washbasin and a stack of white towels.

The fanciful Mr. Booker stopped talking about such a scene. He looked around. The first floor hall was stacked with wooden barrels, cables and fishing cages. The manager of this lighthouse seemed to be a professional fisherman.

There is the sound of a record player on the second floor.

After careful observation, he followed the iron stairs again-there was also a sign at the entrance of the stairs, and wrote: I will lead you out of Sodom (the land of sin)-up to the second floor, here is the private space of the lighthouse keeper , The bedroom, study, kitchen, and living room are all crowded here, and all the furniture is piled on the wall.

The place is messy, it seems that there has been a robbery, and the sensitive detective Mr. Booker sniffs the uneasy atmosphere in the air. He was on guard against the religious beacon on such a thunderstorm, and now he was a little doubtful whether the administrator here was crazy, or that the person was a cultist.

A map of the United States is hung on the wall, as well as the itinerary with nails and red ribbons. From Arizona in the southwest to Maine in the northeast, Booker is full of inquiries about this map, and sticky notes are pinned on the map. : Be prepared, he is already on the road, you must stop him-C. The signer left only one letter, but the handwriting of the entire note made Booker feel familiar, at least similar to the handwriting behind Elizabeth’s photo.

There is also a sign on the stairs leading from the second floor to the third floor: I will lead you to the promised land.

There have been fights in the lighthouse, people may have died, blood stained on the dumped table, and **** handprints on the walls of the stairs. All the way to the third floor, this was supposed to be a tool room and a drying room, but it has become a torture room and a courthouse. Booker noticed the large blood stains on the ground and the cracks caused by the impact on the glass, the most conspicuous, the light Under the corpse with his head covered and tied to a chair.

The deceased was a male, dressed as a worker, dressed in a gray knitted sweater, trousers with olive green straps, and a pair of brown source shoes at his feet. He should be the manager of the lighthouse. He was undoubtedly subjected to torture and torture during his lifetime. The cause of death was a shot on the forehead. He was put in a bag before the murderer fired. A note of blood was tacked on the deceased’s chest: “Don’t let us down.”

Booker felt very cold. The murder in the lighthouse seemed to be a performance, and the audience was Mr. Booker. He was surprised and more anxious at the same time. The unknown enemy was observing him in the dark, and he knew nothing about them, perhaps a group of cultists. , Maybe a group of traffickers pretending to be cultists. In any case, Booker no longer intends to hand over the girl to the so-called “us”. He does not owe any debts. What he wants is… Booker forgets his intentions, but he still has good wishes.

The entrance of the stairs leading to the fourth floor from the third floor is still a notice: I will place you in the soil of New Eden.

The person who wrote these words is definitely a religious madman, who thinks he is a messianic madman. However, it is this kind of madman who can attract foolish believers the most. Booker has always kept away from them, and never wants to deal with such dangerous sources.

The fourth floor may be the lighthouse control room. The door was closed and could not be opened. He continued to go up to the top floor. The Fresnel lens quietly rotated behind the glass cabin, and the hot light made the water vaporize here. When the lamp head turned, Booker turned his back in time to avoid being blinded by the strong light.

The lighthouse has no more space to explore, and the glass cabin with the Fresnel lens seems to be the destination. The door is locked with a code, and the code is in the wooden box that the woman gave Booker earlier. The reel is once, the key is twice, and the sword is twice. This pattern corresponds to the bell on the code lock. Just strike them in order.

Booker struck the bell in a panic and expectant mood, and then, a huge whistle sounded from the tower, and red lights were cast from behind the clouds, like the shadows of the heavens, the clouds, the sea, and the atmosphere. Look, in the grand flute sound, the world becomes tragic red. The flute sounded regularly, and the bright red lights on the sky followed the rhythm of the low steam whistle.

As if the end is coming. Just as the end is coming.

Booker had the absurd idea of ​​messing up everything. One shouldn’t lead to the destruction of the world just by solving the puzzle of the lighthouse, and the changes that happen in front of you may also be done with the means of human industry, just-like a miracle.

The Fresnel lens was raised, the door of the glass cabin opened, and a red leather armchair that looked very comfortable was raised under the mechanical floor of the room.

The strong sense of ritual emerging in his heart is guiding Booker, but he actually found that he had no choice. Had to sit on the back chair.

It’s really soft and comfortable. There are armrests and footboards.

The only problem is that this chair locks Booker’s hands and feet.

Suddenly by an accident, he still didn’t say a word, maintaining his decency. There was a countdown in the room radio, and a hard and distorted woman’s voice reminded: Pilgrims, get ready, those things are for your safety.

The chair is spinning. Booker is dizzy.

There is a spaceship hidden on the top of the lighthouse. The bulkheads that rise around are closed, like a flower bud is closed. In a blink of an eye, Booker is now in an aircraft. Going out with the Mauser gun, he can clearly see the four launcher nozzles below the aircraft. If there is a second person standing here, it will definitely fall into the hot nozzle flame. This spacecraft carries one person.

As the countdown ended, the bilge closed, the rocket engine started, and Booker DeWitt was blasted out.

Through the porthole, Booker witnessed the outside scene-the rapid rise, causing the sea level to retreat rapidly, the sky is getting closer and the clouds are getting more and more, he can even see the thunder flashing not far above his head~www.mtlnovel.com~ The pressure and terrifying apocalyptic atmosphere brought about by acceleration finally reached its climax.

The decent Mr. Booker screamed like a maiden.

“A height of five thousand feet… ten thousand feet… fifteen thousand feet… twenty thousand feet”

Lady Booker looked at the clouds outside the window, his reflection in the window, his face paler than the clouds, he yelled, struggling endlessly.

The aircraft slammed through the clouds.

In an instant, the sun shone brightly.

The world is transparent and bright.

The holy sun, the calm and gentle atmosphere, and the bright human city floating in the sky and floating on the clouds.

“Hallelujah,” the woman said.

Welcome to Colombia, the floating city, the land promised by God, the new Eden.