After not hearing movement in the room for a while, Herlo hesitantly pushed open the window, his sweaty body like a slippery fish, and fell straight into the bathtub.

He had to go to Sayero's room and see if he could find something out of his computer—

He meant this, but he didn't have the strength to do it anymore.

The only thing he could confirm now was that the drink he had drunk in the casino contained some kind of drug, or simply an aphrodisiac. Maybe it was Ando's bastard who did it to him!

This guy... Be sure to settle accounts with him...

With a few gasps on his back, he groggily got up from the tub and walked into the room propped up against the wall, his legs as soft as spaghetti. He walked unsteadily to his computer desk and tried to crack Sayra's boot code.

There was still the familiar aura of Sayaro's body in the room. Every cell of Helo shuddered.

Instinctively, he covered his nose with one hand to prevent his brain from becoming more confused, and with the other he raced through several sets of equations on the screen, trying to figure out the four-digit combination that wasn't complicated for him.

In the darkness, a figure silently approached his back.

"Uninvited guest, if you don't want to die, you'd better stop immediately and raise your hand!"

As a low, intimidating voice rang out, a cold, hard object pressed against the back of Helo's neck.

He heard a buzz in his head, and his mind was instantly confused.

Before he could open his mouth to say anything, he was hit the back of the neck, his arm was twisted behind his back, and the whole person was pressed against the wall in front of him by a hard object. For a moment he almost fainted, the wall seemed to be shaking and spinning, about to collapse, and he knew that his out-of-control nerve center was at work.

"Wait!"

He let out a low cry like a mosquito, and his knees went limp, almost to his knees.

But a strong hand clutched the back of his neck, like a fluttering garment. He hung his neck weakly, his forehead against the wall, the zipper on the back of the isolation gown burst under the weight of his weight, and the glittering silver light on his back suddenly jumped into the eyes of the man behind him.

The man's pupils shrank in astonishment.

Without relaxing the strength of the other party, he took out one hand and pulled the zipper mouth lower, all the way to the other party's tail vertebrae, so that the pattern on the opponent's back was fully revealed.

A silver flying fish with outstretched wings - "Silverwing Rover".

One stroke at a time, each thick or thin line, a small scale, and even a string of corrugated ciphers on the tail of the flying fish, which implied his initials, were all the same as the ones he had personally carved more than ten years ago.

Sayaro stared at the other man's soft silver-white hair in disbelief and pulled his body over.

A stunning face burst into his sight.

Although he was already the outline of an adult man, his delicate facial features still couldn't get rid of his familiar appearance. The young man slumped against the wall, looking up at him, his eyes like water, blinking slowly, his gaze wandering sluggishly on his face as if he could not focus, his breathing disheveled.

The soldier's sustenance made Sayaro regain his inherent calm after a brief moment of surprise. A pair of narrow eyes narrowed suspiciously, he looked the young man in front of him up and down, one finger picked up the other's chin, left and right to check the base of his ear for artificially cultivated tissue stitching marks, and at the same time unzipped his chest.

Helo involuntarily held his breath and tensed his body.

Anything Sayero does at this moment is torture for him. His fingertips, his smell, even the sound of his breathing was no less than a great torture, not to mention that he was undressing now!

He didn't dare to make a sound, for fear that a mouth would emit a shameful gasp, so he had to bite his lip tightly.

Unexpectedly, without checking any traces of artificial forgery on the other party's upper body, Sayaro subconsciously stretched his hand to the opponent's waist, but the guy who had been very obedient just now suddenly struggled violently, trying to escape from the shackles between his arms, acting like a clumsy shrimp.

When the other party rushed to the window, he easily grabbed his arm, re-arrested him, pressed him to the back of the neck with a riot gun, and dragged him back and pressed him to the bed.

Neatly tethered his wrists to the head of the bed with a wire, and Sayaro picked up the flashlight at the head of the bed and pointed it at the other man's eyes. Typical routines used to interrogate prisoners of war.

First the psychological defense of the captives was destroyed psychologically, and then tortured, and he worked as an interrogator for a period of time during the war, and few people were able to withstand his methods.

"Say, who sent you?" Sayero pressed his knee against his thigh and pulled his belt buckle with one hand. Judging by the man's reaction just now, he suspected that the secret of his disguise as Helo was hidden here.

"Don't... Don't touch me! ”

The flickering lights forced Helo to close his eyes. He felt both aggrieved and ashamed, and clamped his legs but to no avail. The pants were torn apart by the man's hand two or three times, and the things that reacted excitedly under the effect of the drug were undisguised in the other party's sight, and his whole body was burning hot.

He felt like he was going crazy.

Sayero's gaze lingered on that spot for a few seconds, hesitating slightly, but still lowered his head to examine the base of the other's legs. There are still no traces of stitching. But he found something else.

A lilac birthmark located on the other person's lower abdomen.

That's impossible to fake.

"Time Travel".

No, that's not right...... Something is wrong.

He subconsciously looked up at the electronic clock on the wall, the numbers on it frozen, motionless, and looked down at the young man's hand again. He wore the same meteorite ring on his finger that he had given him with his own hands.

It's unique in this world, and it can't be imitated...... Token.

Suddenly, an electric light pierced the cerebral cortex.

They are not in his past, but in his brain.

The man jerked back the hand that was holding the young man's ankle, and saw the other party curl up his legs as if he had been electrocuted, and the surface of his snow-white skin was stained with a shocking red tide.

His head was twisted to one side, his eyes were closed, his pale eyelashes trembled violently, and a tendon on his neck was about to break, like a dying butterfly about to flutter its wings from a thin branch bent by snow.

It's a demeanor that he is no stranger to at all.

"Helo?" He asked tentatively in a whisper, turning off the flashlight.

An unprecedented sense of crampedness was like a needle piercing into the impregnable barrier of reason.

“…… I don't care about you! The young man's face suddenly widened in the darkness, and a string of damp water flashed quickly at the bottom of his eyelashes. His shout was hoarse, like a string of vague low hums, and his hands jerked a few times, and a streak of blood appeared on his wrist.

Sayaro reacted and leaned over to untie the wires for him.

"How dare you really do such a thing?"

Sayaro took a deep breath, untied the complicated knot with one hand, and asked as calmly as he could.

Unexpectedly, as soon as the restraints were loosened, Helo threw his fist and punched him in the abdomen, and then bent his knee and struck a powerful knee that almost threw him off the bed. The barrage was swift and agile, but it was a pity that it was not lethal to him except for a little pain—and he taught it himself.

Deftly dodging the oncoming fist of the young man, Sayaro grabbed his forearm, twisted it on his waist, and used his knee to block the opponent's foot that tried to kick him away, holding him firmly under him. The palm of his hand touched the hot skin of the person under him, like a rough flint and steel against the surface of the white phosphorus, and it didn't take much friction to stir up a series of scorching sparks, causing him to tremble.

"What do you care about me? Can you control me? ”

Helo gritted his teeth and subconsciously blurted out like he had been many years ago. He didn't know where he was so angry, as if he was venting his thoughts for so many years of drinking to quench his thirst, gritting his teeth, and longing to tear off a piece of flesh from him.

He had imagined the scene when he was reunited with Sayero—

He wants to use this modified body to fight with the other party freely, and it is best to beat the other party, like a big man, so that the other party will look at him differently. Ironically, he appeared in front of the other party with such a wolf bèi and embarrassed look.

In the other person's brain, to be exact.