At five o'clock in the morning, Fugg and Vigilli, as well as the rest of his body, walked happily through the sewage-ridden alleys of the ghetto, a moment when even the homeless, drunkards and thugs had fallen asleep, and outside the bar, the veterans of the glamorous hunt dragged the drunken "dead fish" out of the gate, and then threw the young ladies into the second-hand cars like dock workers throwing goods, Fugg pushed his glasses and walked briskly past them through the shadow of the wall.

Except for a feral cat who was disturbed to courtship, no one noticed him.

You look happy. Don't tell me that you'll be satisfied, Fugg. 】

Vicky said in his head, and with a hint of ill-will, Fugg pursed the corners of his lips slightly.

[Don't confuse me with you. 】

He whispered.

[Come on, in a certain way, I am you, you are me, and there is no difference between us. Oh...... No, there is a difference, after all, I don't get dizzy when I get close to him, and your blood pressure rises to a certain extent, and your heartbeat even caused us a certain burden at that time, but the funniest thing is that you don't even dare to touch him until the end, because you know that once you touch him, you will be as uncontrollable as me. 】

[You're really noisy, Virgilly. 】

[Alas, forget it, maybe I shouldn't have laughed at you so meanly, you know that you are still a damn virgin after all, why didn't you take you into the collection of the Metropolitan Museum?

Virgili said.

Fugg paused, looking down at a small puddle at his feet, where he could clearly see Vicchi's vicious gaze staring at him. Fugg knew that Vicky was trying to provoke him, and this was not surprising, after all, the sadist who claimed to be a liar had an almost pathological monopoly on Calvin, and even if he was also one of the Red Deer personalities, he would easily provoke Vicili's displeasure after such a brief encounter with Calvin.

[Vigilli, you'd better stop doing stupid things. Fugg slowly opened his lips and said word by word in the English accent that was particularly contrived for Virgilly, "Unless you want to experience the feeling of being gouged out of your eyes with a spoon again, I don't think you have forgotten the feeling of being slashed out of your iris and squeezed out of the lens, right?

Fugg even smiled slightly at Virgilli, and then he felt a slight tingling sensation in his left eye, a childish revenge from the latter. Regardless, however, Virgili eventually quieted down.

"Hoo ......"

Fugg tilted his neck, exhaled, and took another step. In another narrow alley, Fugg found the car he had been in before. He pulled open the door and sat down, then frowned at the metallic smell that permeated the car.

That's certainly not really metallic.

[If I were you, I would take a good look at this time to see if the "coat" we prepared could be used, and before the next time we see the angel, I think we should put on the "coat" properly...... I didn't want to be away from him for too long, he wasn't safe, and I could feel the darkness gathering around him. 】

Fugg said as he started the Rolls-Royce, which drove out of the alley like a ghost and into the empty streets of the wee hours of the morning.

[By the way, we had to change cars, and the smell made me feel a little disgusting.] 】

He added.

Vigili chuckled twice in the back of his mind.

After a few seconds, Fugg's left eye began to blur - if anyone was in the car at this time, he would be shocked to see Fugg, or Vigilli, or Red Deer...... In short, the young man with curly brown hair and minty eyes began to look strange.

His left eye began to become bloodshot, so engorged that the entire whites of his eyes turned a shocking blood-red, and his pupils began to dilate until they took up the entire iris, giving the illusion that his pupils were completely black. After a tremor, the eyeball of his left eye began to shake, it was not a normal shaking, in fact, his black pupils looked like pinballs bouncing randomly in his blood-red sockets, the blood bursting from the rupture of the capillaries stained his tears, and translucent bloody tears flowed down the left side of his face. The scene looked like something out of some third-rate horror movie, and Fugg calmly drove the car with the rest of his normal right eye.

Rolls-Royce drove past 24-hour pizza parlors, massage parlors in black holes, Chinese restaurants, supermarkets, ...... Then slowly turned onto the highway.

【That's it!】

Finally, he got a response from Virgili in his head, and the liar's voice sounded a little weak.

Fugg blinked, realizing that his vision had returned to normal. He took the handkerchief out of his pocket and slowly wiped the blood off his face.

[How?] he asked.

[How long do we have to get to Peach City?] asked Vickyli.

Fugg glanced at the time.

[About twenty minutes.] 】

[Then we'll just catch up - the "coat" is ready.] 】

Location: Peach City

39 Diamond Avenue

It was his mother who first noticed that something was wrong with Ivan Eberts, and Mrs. Eberts found that for two hours, the boy they had locked in the basement had not howled and smashed things as he normally did.

Mr. Eberts had been sleeping badly during this time - her sleep had deteriorated since she found out that her beloved little Ivan had also contracted that damn addiction, but even worse when Mr. Eberts decided to lock Ivan up and detoxify him on his own.

They reinforced their basement and covered the walls with soundproof sponge panels. As the workers installed it, Mrs. Eberts laughed and explained to them that she had a son who played rock and roll (she wasn't lying) and that she was fed up with the complaints of her neighbors—but the workers didn't really care. The Eberts were good customers, they paid very well, and the workers did their jobs quickly. A few days later, Ivan Eberts was tricked home by his mother, and he was told that he would get his trust fund in advance, which was a natural thing for a young man who had used up almost all his pocket money because of drug use.

Ivan was ruthlessly betrayed, his mother put powerful sleeping pills in his favorite soup, and when he woke up, he found himself firmly tied to his bed and locked in a basement.

"Honey, this is for your own good—your father is running for a directorship, and we really can't let anyone know that he has a drug-addicted son—" his mother said to him with tears in her eyes.

Ivan spat at her.

At first, Ivan would howl like a ghoul, but within a few days, he was completely dying.

His mother was deeply disturbed by this, but Mr. Eberts seemed happy.

"Don't care, my dear, it's that he's getting better, he's going to get better. Mr. Eberts said coldly but confidently.

Then that evening, when Mrs. Eberts finally realized that Ivan was no longer moving, they opened the door to the basement.

Ivan Eberts is dead.

He bit off his tongue, bleeding half of the bed, staining the sheets red and his bulging ribs, his pale pupils staring at the ceiling, the expression on his face distorted.

Mrs. Eberts made a ho-ho sound in her throat, like a broken extractor.

"Oh, no—oh, no—"

She almost screamed, but before that, a cold hand was firmly pressed over her mouth.

"Shut up, you idiot!"

Her husband let out a roar of exasperation. Mrs. Eberts' tears wet his palms.

"Uh-hmm-hmm-"

Mrs. Eberts cried out muttered under his palm, and a bruise appeared on his face.

"Don't yell, don't provoke the police, you calm me down, or I'll be careful that I'll knock you out of the." ”

The pair of horrible eyes glared at Mrs. Eberts until she cowered and straightened up.

Eventually, Mr. Eberts let go of his wife.

He glared angrily at the motionless corpse on the bed in the basement, the sadness in his chest quickly overshadowed by anger.

"No, it can't be at this time, it's not the right time for this kid to die-"

"What are you talking about?" Mrs. Eberts looked up at her husband with trembling eyes, and despite her questioning remarks, years of married life had made her actually know what he was thinking, "he ...... He is your son...... He's dead...... Oh, my God...... He's dead......"

At that moment, a tingle of shame passed through Mr. Eberts' eyes, but the human emotion was quickly annihilated.

He grabbed his wife's shoulders and forced her to look up at him.

"I know, I'm sorry...... I'm sad, dear...... But it can't be at this time, I can't blow out at this time that I have a son who is addicted to drugs - Willis, that guy won't let me go, as long as I show the slightest weakness, that guy has a thousand vicious ways to bring me down......"

"Woooooooooo......oo But...... Ivan...... My poor Ivan......"

"Hey, honey, listen to me, I can't afford to lose this opportunity - even if we pity me, we'll always find a way to hide it......"

"No—"

Mrs. Eberts let out a gut-wrenching scream, and she broke free of her husband's arms and ran out, but no sooner had she reached the drawing-room than the latter had pounced on her shoulder.

"Didn't you understand me?!"

Mr. Eberts snarled under his breath, striking his knee against his wife's abdomen.

Mrs. Eberts curled up in pain.

As she had experienced for many years, she wept silently, and in the haze of tears, she saw a tall figure imprinted on the porch.

It was a man with curly brown hair and minty eyes, dressed in a neat suit and holding a cup of tea.

Mrs. Eberts didn't know how long he had been there, and she even wondered why she had just seen him......

"Hey, I actually have a better way to solve your dilemma. ”

The uninvited guest spoke to the two men on the floor.

"Who are you?!"

Mr. Eberts jumped to his feet, and roared at the trespasser—not as ferocious as he had been with his wife.

Fugg winked at him, then took a sip of tea.

"Well, have you forgotten me? I'm your son, Victori Eberts, 26, an art student at the Lowe School of Art, graduating this year...... His hobby is to play a little rock 'n' roll, but in order to avoid worrying his parents, he has decided not to continue. ”

Fugg said to the Eberts.

"What the are you...... What the hell are you talking about?"

Mr. Eberts looked at Fugg in shock, and now he was more completely confused than frightened.

Unhurriedly, Fugg placed his teacup on the coffee table at hand, and he walked over to the Eberts, who could now see his eyes more clearly.

It was a pair of blue eyes that seemed to be able to exud poisonous juice.

"Don't worry, you're going to have a good son. ”

Fugg said as he stared at them, then snapped his fingers slightly.

"Bang-"

He placed it on the coffee table, and the teacup suddenly shattered, and the hot tea flowed onto the high-end carpet.

"Oh my God—"

Mrs. Eberts exclaimed.

"How many times have I told you, be careful—damn it, it's an Iranian hand-woven carpet, you haven't been able to find such exquisite craftsmanship since the beginning of the war!"

She yelled at Fugg in disgust, but there was no real blame in her tone.

Mr. Eberts stood there for a moment, he looked at his wife and then at Fugg, looking a little confused, and after a while, he rubbed his temples: "Damn, Virgilly, why do you make such a big fuss every time you come back, you'd better not sue me for what trouble you've caused again......"

"Of course not, I'm sorry, Dad. You'd better go back and rest, I know you've been busy lately. ”

Fugg said expressionlessly at the arrogant and stupid man.

As soon as he had finished speaking, Mr. Eberts walked like a man upstairs to his bedroom.

"You, too, my dear mother, please go and accompany your husband...... lest he yell at you again. ”

He turned to Mrs. Eberts, who, like her husband, left the drawing-room quietly and obediently, and she seemed calm, not at all wondering why her face was full of tears, and her abdomen ached so violently as if she had just been beaten with a baseball bat.

"Alright. ”

Standing in the empty living room, Fuge whispered.

His face was as white as a dead man, and cold sweat completely soaked his back.

The pain was so sharp that it was like someone was kneading his brain, and Fugg soon felt his muscles spasm, and he slowly walked over to the couch, allowing himself to lie flat on the high-quality, soft couch.

"Let Moser come out. ”

He whispered.