Chapter 211: Martin and Week 8!

Uhhh!!h

From the basement window, Cowell could see what was going on outside. Two walking corpses roared and surrounded the fence wall, and the monks simply knocked down the walking corpses with bamboo sticks.

Instead of killing the walking corpse and delivering the fatal blow, he chose forgiveness.

I saw him raise the bamboo stick again and again, knocking down the walking corpse, but he refused to kill him. Cowell was a little annoyed when he saw it, and he wanted to kill the walking corpse for him.

In Cowell's eyes, he was wasting his time doing so. But in the eyes of the monks, those who are the same as themselves are also human beings.

After chasing the walking corpse for a while, he went into his vegetable garden and picked a few ripe tomatoes. He wiped it on his body, then walked to the basement.

The door to the basement was opened, and the monk was holding a bamboo stick with him and two tomatoes in his hand. He walked over to Lucas and placed one on the ground.

Glancing at the plate, he still didn't eat a bite of the food he had prepared for him, still left it in place and didn't move, looking down at the floor.

"Why don't you kill me! You had a chance to kill me, but you only knocked me out. If you don't kill me, as long as I get out, I'll kill you! ”

Cowell threatens him, hoping that he will kill himself. The monk clasped his hands together, closed his eyes and said, "When is the time to retribution?" ”

"I won't kill you, and I won't be killed by you! With the way you are now, you can't kill anyone, and the only one who can help you get out of the sea of suffering is yourself. ”

With that, the monk turned and left, leaving Cowell to shout and beg him to kill him. Cowell picked up the tomatoes on the ground and threw them on top of the iron door.

He really wants to die now, and he feels relieved to die. But in the eyes of the monks, everyone's life is sacred and priceless.

"Damn, you give me back! Let me go! ”

Cowell roared and kicked over the tray in front of him, hot cow. The milk flowed all over the floor. The sandwich was also stained with dust.

He pushed the chain to the limit and pulled hard in an attempt to escape from the place. After struggling for a while, he sat on the ground and slowly calmed down.

Through the window, Cowell saw that the monk continued to dare to walk the dead, doing something that he didn't understand, and he even felt that the monk was not in his right mind.

Night falls.

The monk came back from his outing, carrying a bag containing the things he had collected. The big dog had been following him and had helped him a lot.

His name is Black Panther, and he is a stray dog he rescued while collecting supplies in the wild. The dog was a purebred shepherd dog who was unable to move when one leg stepped on the trap.

It had blood on its legs, and it howled with a pitiful expression, but luckily there were no walking corpses around. The monk happened to pass by and let it go.

Then he gave the dog some of the food he had brought with him, and then left some of the food, and was ready to leave there, not thinking of taking it back at that time.

But when he was about to leave, the dog kept staring at him. At first, the monk thought that he was looking at the food, and thought that the dog was not enough, so he simply gave some to him.

This time he had barely walked a few steps when the dog dragged him and bandaged it, and the injured leg followed him. He gradually noticed that the dog did not glance at the food, as if he was reluctant to give him up.

After thinking about it for a while, he decided to take the dog with him. Since it was Sunday, he named the dog "Week 8".

Later, when he searched for supplies, the dog took the initiative to help share the burden and help him carry some things. Over time, the eighth day of the week became his partner and his family.

After packing up his things, the monk threw a bone to Zhou Ba, who lay down outside the door and guarded it, and he went back to the inner room to rest, and went to sleep with the lights out.

The moonlight shines through the window, forming a bright beam of light to enter. In the basement, Cowell sat alone in the corner with his back to the door, silent, his stomach rumbling.

It's been a day of hunger, and his lips are chapped and dry. The empty stomach, the desperate desire to eat, was quietly tormenting him.

After a little more endurance, he glanced at the sandwich that he had kicked over and stuck to the ground during the day. He took a mouthful of saliva and reached out to grab it.

Sweeping the ashes with his hand, he took a big bite into his mouth. The sand grains smashed into the dust, and he was soaked in the spilled milk for a day, which was very unpalatable, and made him feel like he was eating big. Convenient!

Even so, he devoured the sandwich quickly, and hesitantly swiped his fingers to clean up the scraps.

After eating, he leaned his head against the wall, sat cross-legged on the ground, and looked out at the night sky. The only good eye is full of bitterness.

He didn't expect that he would be the lord of a dignified town, a man who called for wind and rain and had everything. Now it's ridiculous to be chained to the basement like a dog.

The sun and the moon are like shuttles, and the day alternates. In the blink of an eye, Cowell was locked up in the basement for a month. Every day, except when the monks deliver food, he is one of the others.

That kind of loneliness can only be experienced by himself. Gradually, he began to be obedient, no longer resistant, his temper improved, and he began to accept all the food he brought.

His hair was long, dirty and unkempt, and his beard was unkempt. He would peek at the monks in the window every day and found that every morning, he would practice martial arts by the river.

He held his own bamboo stick, and would stand in the distance and practice for a while, and he didn't know if Cowell was really too boring, and he would watch it every day.

And he also discovered a strange thing, that is, this monk, he made a cart himself. From time to time, he would come back with a few dead bodies, not knowing what he was doing.

Evening.

As usual, the monk prepared the food and carried it in a basket to bring him food. Open the basement door and walk over to take out something and put it on the ground.

Just as he was about to leave, Colwell suddenly stopped him, hoping that he would stay with him.

"Talk to me! It doesn't matter what you say, even if it's for a minute, or just a word. ”

Cowell looked at the monk, who stopped halfway through and stood still. Turning around, the monk nodded at him and sat down across from him.

Cowell took the water cup out of the basket, took a sip in his hand, and found that it was milk again. He wondered why he ate so well every day.

He began to wonder if this monk ate better than himself every day, and he was a little curious.

"My name is Cowell, what about you?"

Cowell drank the milk, pulled out a tomato from the basket, and reached out. He wiped it with his sleeve, then took it and took a large bite, and threw the other one to the monk.

"My name is Martin." The monk took the tomato, nodded politely, and said his name.