As the footsteps faded away, the entire medical area was as silent as meditation, only the sound of Sayero's breathing continued rhythmically in the darkness, quiet and peaceful like morning mist, which made Hero feel reassured.

It didn't take long for a wave of fatigue to set in. In order to cheer up, he rummaged around the cabinet outside the quarantine area, and finally pulled out a box of e-cigarettes, which was about Ando's.

You don't need fire, you just need to take a sip to get comfort, but this thing is not good for your health -- it contains some stimulant-like ingredients, and there are always times when you need to stay awake during the long journey to space.

But sitting on the recliner and smoking at Sayaro at this moment made him feel a sense of guilt inexplicably.

If Sayero could see it, he would have shown that oppressive look and warned him silently, and then what punishment measures should be taken. It didn't matter, he was happy to accept both the grounding and corporal punishment, the point was that he didn't want to disappoint him or get angry, not at all. Even if, he really isn't a good baby in his eyes.

Definitely not. If he was a little less obedient, would he have become the other party's lover a long time ago?

The hatred that had quietly fermented from the bitter thoughts of years of aging all came up at this moment.

He put the cigarette in his mouth, stared at the figure close at hand, grinded between his teeth, took a deep breath defiantly, his thin lips were half-open in a seductive way, and he exhaled a puff of smoke slowly towards the glass, muttering to himself: "Look, can you still control me?" ”

His gaze climbed along the rising smoke ring, and he slowly leaned back in his chair, sticking out his tongue and licking the corners of his dry and peeling lips. He's probably gone through hundreds of this kind of stuff in the past few years.

"You said you would protect me for the rest of my life, Sayara, but unfortunately I don't need it anymore. I'll never call you brother again, at least not for the Thorn Heaven. I'm your boss now, you know? ”

He sneered hatefully in the darkness, staring at the digital imprint on the side of the man's neck that he didn't understand for a while, and unzipped his neckline a little.

In the reflection of the glass, there was a string of numbers identical to each other near the young man's slender and clear collarbone, which looked dazzling on the extremely white and flawless skin, like an ugly centipede lying on the petals of a lily.

There was a tiny chip hidden underneath, enough to kill him in an instant.

When performing a mission in outer space, the top management of Thorn Paradise will implant a chip into the mercenary who accepts the mission, and remotely control the other party through the gadget. Employment is more than just money.

Where is heaven full of thorns?

When he was marked with this string of marks, it was all too clear that he was stepping into a dangerous and ghostly hell.

This qiē is all because of you.

Helo thought to himself, tapping his finger bone on the glass.

Naturally, there was no response.

He smiled self-deprecatingly, watched the fire of the e-cigarette flicker and went out, and closed his eyes. The long silver-white eyelashes were like needles stained with frost and snow, and they were gradually crushed by the tiredness that surged up.

The remnants of consciousness were washed away, consciousness washed into a deep valley, and then fell into a cacophony of light.

The noise was deafening like thunder, and psychedelic colored lights flickered on and off, tearing and gluing the retina apart and kneading into the twisted and jumping crowds. On the Colosseum-like arena, a bloody battle between humans and mechanical beasts is being staged, and from time to time there are waves of cheers erupting from the field.

He staggered through the frenzied crowd, foot deep, foot shallow, like stepping in a swamp, and after several treks to get out of the locker room of the individual fighters, he lay down in the doorway and looked inside.

The familiar figure leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes, as if he had just finished a game, the black cloak had not yet had time to be replaced, and the metal helmet was pressed low, revealing only an angular chin and slender neck.

A small puddle of sweat had accumulated in the socket of his neck, which spread to his hard, smooth chest with violent wheezing, reflecting a rocky sheen.

He seemed to smell the smell of sweat with a strong hormonal smell in the air, and peeked at the man for a while, only to see the other party move his body slightly, take off the alloy fist gloves and stretch his five fingers, and the bone joints made a series of subtle gurgling sounds.

Like a corpse resurrected from the dead, the man slowly raised his hand, picked up the whiskey on the table, tilted his neck and poured a sip, his throat rolling up and down, but as if he remembered something, he looked at his arm-

There was a string of prohibitions written in paint pen, prohibiting him from drinking.

The corners of his mouth that appeared under the helmet seemed to bend slightly, and he rinsed his mouth and spit into the cup next to him.

There was a sip of blood in it.

The pain in his heart was as if he had been punched, and even in a dream, Helo suddenly lost his breath.

At the same time as the door in the locker room opened, he rushed into the crowd as if flying, deliberately standing where the other party would surely pass, raising the wine glass he had just touched from a certain stand in a high-profile manner, shaking his head and swallowing the fog with all the high-spirited people next to him.

But these heavy tastes that he had never been exposed to almost smoked himself out of the first place, making him immediately cough violently.

"Aha, where did this little baby come from? I'm not an adult yet! ”

The tears he was coughing up were falling wildly, and a big fluffy hand suddenly came from behind, grabbed his waist, and rubbed two handfuls obscenely on his ass.

But before he could be angry about this, the next moment, a strong wind rushed away the force that held his body.

There was a crackling explosion behind him, and as soon as he turned around, he saw Sayaro bending his knees against the guy who had attacked him, pressing him to the ground, and smashing the opponent with a fatal force, and then another punch.

The sound of bones breaking was tooth-aching, blood splattered onto the walls, but the beaten man didn't even have the strength to scream, and collapsed on the ground like a dead pig.

He stayed there in fright, until he was carried by the man who strode over and squeezed out of the boiling crowd, all the way to the silent underground parking lot, and then his soul returned to his body.

His body landed on the hard saddle, and he still had palpitations, and the booty in his hand rolled to the ground, stirring up an even more terrifying sound on the ground.

There was a suffocating smell in the darkness - the smell of blood on Sayero's body.

"It's really grown up. Learned to track me? ”

The voice above was hoarse and cold, without the usual tenderness, like a piece of sandpaper suddenly brushing over the eardrums.

He snorted, and he didn't even have the courage to look up at his expression, only let out an unfounded "hum" from his nose.

But immediately he regretted it.

Why was you angry with him at that time? Maybe it's because he's so afraid of losing him, so afraid that he hates his weakness, and so afraid that he's angry that the other party hides his dedication, so that he can only protest in this way of pretending that he is "degenerate".

Even if he was abandoned, he didn't want to see this person fight for his life to cure his illness again.

The chaotic thoughts that flowed in the dream came to an abrupt end with the sharp sound of leather boots crushing against the bottle.

"Explain to me, what's going on?" The calloused hand lifted his chin so hard that he couldn't help but look at Sayero's half-hidden face.

The eyebrows are slightly raised, and the narrow thin eyelids are blood-colored, like the blade of a blade.

As if he had been cut, he shivered hard, biting his lip and not speaking.

It was the first time he had found real anger in this man's face.

Sayaro always had a gentle and down-to-earth attitude, as if he was pointless and fearless of anything, almost perfectly powerful—if he hadn't seen the bloody wine, he would have always thought so.

"What did you promise me, Helo? Stay at home on weekends, don't run around, and never go out with strangers? The fingers on his chin moved to his lips and rubbed back and forth, eager to wipe out all the alcohol and cigarettes he had swallowed.

"Do you want me to die in a casino because I'm worried about you? Well? ”

The heavy sentence fell like a meteorite, all the way to the heart, smashing a pit that he sank into.

He glared at Sayaro stubbornly, bit his finger, and viciously squeezed a few words out of his teeth: "Don't try to control me unless you watch me at home!" I'm not a bunny! I'm a man! ”

Perhaps the words were too quick to choke on his throat and choke him into tears, and he looked at him deliberately without wiping it, so as to win the comfort of his usual soft voice every time he saw crying.

But this time Sayaro didn't. He just stared at him quietly, with a cluster of ghost fire locked in his eyes restrainedly, and he had already burned his liver and gall before he released it, and he jumped out of the car and wanted to escape, but he grabbed his arm with an arrow step and pressed him to lie on the saddle.

The man's leather-gloved palm slammed down on his ass as he pushed the cart out.

The pain in the dream was so clear that it exploded in the unspeakable parts, but it was definitely not more frightening than being "spanked in the street", and Naruto Che's voice came to his face, and a rush of urine rushed to his lower abdomen-

Helo opened his eyes in a cold sweat.

As soon as I moved my body, I felt that my pants were tight, and the restless things between my legs were swollen and painful.

Damn it.