Even though it was only for a short moment, Fuge's clothes were drenched in cold sweat.

There was a slight staggering in his form, as if he had completely exhausted all the strength in this body, and of course, in fact, there was nothing wrong with that.

The situation just now is called "resonance" - when all the personalities in him are caught up in the same thoughts, the same emotions, they will flood into the surface of consciousness at the same time for a period of time.

Although it cannot be explained scientifically, after the original Red Deer was subjected to the electrocution execution, each personality he separated had its own personality setting...... There are also special abilities. These abilities are powerful, but on the other hand, their presence puts a lot of strain on the body that is still human. In Fugg's opinion, it is for this reason that Red Deer split these personalities - in order to carry this strange and inexplicable special ability.

And when the "resonance" is generated, the personalities are stuffed into the narrow surface of consciousness at the same time, and that strange special ability squeezes each other, which is likely to cause the collapse of this body.

That's why Fugg exists, his personality allows him to remain calm while other personalities resonate, and then drive those damn stupid consciousnesses back to where they should be.

Of course, he will still be hurt.

"Tick ......"

Fugg lowered her head, and a drop of red blood appeared on Calvin's back.

Fugg silently reached out and touched his nose, a wisp of blood slowly pouring out of his nostrils.

"It's a nuisance. ”

He said coldly.

The drop of blood on Calvin's back slid slowly down the beautiful, graceful line in the middle of his back under the force of gravity, and Fugg watched the scene quietly. After a few seconds, he reached out and wiped the blood away with his fingertips.

Then he pressed his palm to Calvin's back, stroking it downwards little by little, and finally stopped at the perfect recess behind him.

Aside from those two scars, Calvin's back could be described as flawless, his skin tight, smooth, fair, without even the slightest spot or blemish.

It's like a freshly smeared cake with fresh milky cream, or a marble statue that has been touched for a long time.

His skin radiated a soft heat under Fuge's palm, a smooth touch that seemed to be trying to grab Fuge's hand.

As a doctor, Fugg can clearly construct the shape of the muscles and bones beneath Calvin's skin in his own brain—just like the skin, his muscles, bones, and even the direction of his blood vessels are perfectly in line with Fuge's aesthetic.

Fugg's breathing rate sped up a bit.

He held that position, pausing for about a few tens of seconds, and then he took a deep, deep breath and removed his hand from Calvin's body.

He did something simple - this body of his own. He then began to treat the wounds on Calvin's back, which had become inflamed and slightly ulcerated.

Fugg applied the same homemade ointment to the scars, almost visible to the naked eye, and the redness and swelling of the two wounds subsided.

"Hmm......"

Calvin let out a small, nasal sound, and his body moved, and the look on his face relaxed. Fugg glanced at him, and for a moment the always expressionless doctor seemed soft and warm.

He slowly carried Calvin to the second-floor bedroom, where he carefully sorted everything out for the sleeping man. Calvin's body was now sunk in the soft futon, his face had regained its ruddy color, and his breath was steady.

Fugg gave him one last look, and then left the room quickly—even a little deserted.

By the time he descended the stairs, the smell of metal had gradually risen in the air around him.

[Bastard.] 】

A shrill voice burst out in his head.

[You shameless and despicable bandit!]

It was Virgilli, and his every word was full of resentment.

Fugg walked through the hallway, the living room, and towards the kitchen, and in the process the surface of the metal fittings of every piece of furniture he passed showed an incomparably distorted figure—and that figure was roaring toward it.

[How dare you squeeze me out—how dare you—]

"I need to protect him. ”

Fugg said softly.

[You just want to monopolize him, you disgusting hypocrite, you bed bug......]

"You're getting a little too excited, those things in your head when you see him......" Fugra opened the cupboard, pulling out the beans and siphon coffee pot.

He placed the lighter on the cooking table and carefully trimmed the wick of the alcohol lamp with a small pair of silver scissors until the cotton wick head became a perfect oval.

"As long as I show up a little later, you'll be on the verge of success. "You almost raped him, don't think I don't know what you took out of the medicine box—hmm—"

Fugg let out a muffled snort.

He lowered his head and looked at his palm, the scissors perfectly piercing the palm of his right hand under the control of his left hand.

Blood gushed out.

Obviously, in the face of extreme rage, even Vigili was able to control one of his hands while being squeezed out.

“…… You have to remember to clean up the kitchen. ”

Fugg picked up what he hadn't finished speaking.

[You touched him, you dared to touch him-]

"I was supposed to talk to you about Red Deer, but given the current situation, maybe we should move the conversation to a point where you can calm down. ”

Fugg lit the alcohol lamp with his uninjured hand. The pale blue flames trembled slightly, and Fugg pulled the scissors out of his palm, then placed the bloodied hand on top of the flames.

His skin quickly blistered and turned black in the flames, and the crimson blood gave off a strong aroma under the catalysis of the flames, and some gray powder fell from the dried bloodstains, stretching into threads, and then the gray lines squirmed like living creatures in the aroma.

Fugg lowered her head and leaned closer to the wriggling gray lines.

"Imogen Payne, I need more information about him. ”

The threads trembled violently, then scurryed into the shadows along the cracks in the cupboard, quickly vanishing. 166 Reading Network