"They clone people." Sasha. Hopkins said calmly. He certainly knew that Manchester Medical School would be where he would spend four years or more in the future: "It's not a secret, it's just not public. ”

"They blasphemed God." Said the boy with a demonic name.

"Crime is the foundation of humanity," said his best friend and brother, "and the first ancestors of mankind stole fruit from the tree of wisdom – and their offspring were born from crime." ”

The streetlights on both sides of the road flickered twice and turned on, and the gentle pale yellow light swept through their faces like a breeze.

A crouched body in the grass moved awkwardly, attracting Beelzebub's attention. "It looks familiar." He said.

"That's my roommate, named Richard. White. Sasha said.

Richard. White looked up and looked at them in a panic, he had eyes, large flesh-colored borders, black legs, and eyes enlarged by lenses: "Good evening, Sasha." He crouched down and said, look at Sasha, and look at Beelzebub, Beelzebub's appearance made him a little afraid, he was already taller than the average adult male, and the muscles on his body could be seen even in a jacket: "You ...... Good evening," he stammered, reaching out to grasp the base of the streetlamp.

"Need a favor?"

"No...... No, thank you," he said, "I've got a little more to finish doing, and if I stand up now, my calves will hurt if I squat down again." ”

"What are you doing?" Beelzebub asked, and he took two steps forward, while Richard. White suddenly screamed, startling him.

"Don't, don't, don't ......," Richard said with difficulty. Because he had to contract his abdomen when he shouted the word out loud, he was squatting: "Be careful! His face was pale, and he waved a hand forward eagerly—strangely his feet did not move: "Watch out for those snails." ”

Beelzebub looked down, and at his feet, two snails were carrying colorful shells on their backs, shaking their translucent tentacles on the surface of the stone bricks—what looked like some new species that had not yet been discovered. But no new species of snail will ever wear a shell with a pattern like the Manchester school crest.

"I'm coloring snails." Richard probably used up all his courage in the first few seconds, and his muttering voice became low and indistinct, "So that people don't accidentally step on them." ”

Beelzebub looked at the large snails, which were the size of a quarter of his palm, and when he looked closely, he realized that they had different patterns, some of them were dark blue with golden anchors, and some were three- or four-color rainbows. Some were dotted with color, some were camouflage, some were large sharks, and there were zebra stripes and human faces, and a few small cans of open acrylic paint under the benches leaning against the street lamps. Richard. White held an oil paintbrush in his hand that he could see that he had worked on himself.

No wonder he could always smell the oil paint before.

"Your roommate is an environmentalist?" Beelzebub asked.

"Everybody on the Western Continent is an environmentalist right now."

"You know what I mean, I mean, radical animal protectionists?"

"Sort of," Sasha said, remembering animals with human eyes, "but I don't know if it's radical." ”

"His smell was terrible," Beelzebub said, "and it felt moldy and shriveled." ”

"Well, you're biased against him." 、

"Maybe it's because of the relationship that he took my place."

"Be fair. I didn't attack your roommate. ”

"That's because Quinta isn't really bad, but this guy, I'm worried he's going to get up in the middle of the night and add some kind of chemical aid to the water fountain you share."

"Generic chemical additives are useless to us."

"The people of Poseidon Island never think that an attempt is one of the reasons worthy of discretionary forgiveness."

"Okay......" stood in their common living room. Sasha reluctantly grabbed Beelzebub's shoulder, and he knew Beelzebub. Bisandi had been a little nervous since he was separated from him, yes, they were also in one room on Poseidon Island and Grande, but now, or as Beelzebub said. The other shared his friends with him - many boys do become friends with the people they share with because they are so close. It would be painful and dangerous to become an enemy.

"But we're not friends," Sasha said, "we're brothers." He smiled. He pinched Beelzebub's neck, "Do you think Quinta or someone else can be your brother?" ”

"It's impossible to wait for hell to freeze."

"Quite right," said Hopkins, "you understand very well – your uneasiness is due to the fact that we are finally out of Poseidon Island – here, too far from Poseidon Island. He was not referring to distance, but to Manchester, a place of future power and wealth, in which Bisandy and Hopkins could certainly reach a finger or two, but that would cause a lot of uneasiness that could be poured out on Masoyer and the institution.

So both fathers took a wait-and-see and conservative attitude together, but fortunately the two children were old enough, Beelzebub needless to say, even if it was Sasha. Hopkins is already a figure to be reckoned with - he never kills, really, in the dark world, it is harder to do this than to kill like a murderer, but no one dares to mess with him, not only because there is Bisandi standing behind him, but also because this blonde boy who rarely does his own hands will lead to a hundred times worse ending than originally possible once he does it - he has the ruthlessness of the Poseidon people and the careful patience that the Poseidon people do not have (Beelzebub once jokingly called "mother-in-law"), he is interested in everything, He is especially good at "questioning" the ruthless villains - he once talked for a while with the hammer of a rival family, after which he not only told them everything they wanted to know, but also cried and called his mother when he saw someone.

At that time, old Andreana had not even been able to make a pot of coffee.

Some of the people he dealt with were still alive, but those who had seen them agreed that they were better dead.

Beelzebub did not speak, Sasha. Hopkins had always been sharp — he remembered the little boy who took off his pants to prove he wasn't a girl.

He does have a bit of ...... Uncomfortable, he had wanted to break free from the shackles of Poseidon Island countless times. But when he really broke away from its embrace, he felt cold and shivered again. At this time, Hopkins, who had been inseparable from him since he was a child, lived with someone else, and was replaced by a dark-skinned stranger. Beelzebub did not hate him, but it was difficult for him to let go of his innate vigilance and vigilance. For the first few nights, he hadn't been able to sleep properly—and the pressures of school and beyond school meant that even Beelzebub, who was an Adept, felt a little tired.

Sasha should feel something, which is why I invite him to complete that extra "homework" with him, and a full meal is one of the best ways to relax.

Now sprinkle the sand. Hopkins simply punctured it, which was a good thing for Beelzebub. The pressure that had accumulated over the past two months was slowly pouring out as if it had found an exit, his father still watching him, and his brother was only separated by two walls, and his roommate, if he really knew Beelzebub. What a thing is Bisandi. Then the one who can't sleep will become him.

It's kind of funny, both Quinta and himself.

"But we'll still have friends, that's why we left Poseidon Island and came here." Beelzebub, who had calmed down, said.

Sasha nodded in agreement: "Quinta won't be your brother, but he can be your friend - Chegar. Bisandi also has a lot of friends, and many of his successes come from this. ”

***

Richard. It was late when White returned to his room.

The animals stared at him with human eyes open, and he used glow-in-the-dark paints to depict the colorful irises that were brilliant in the darkness, with a thin tentacle sticking out of the thick curtains. Cast on his roommate's blanket, he looked like he was asleep, looking peaceful. Place your hands on the outside of the blanket and take a straight stance.

Richard didn't take a bath, just wiped his body with a wet towel - it was purely personal habit, and his mother didn't bathe him, because it was a hassle and waste to put bath water on, in order to avoid the smell on his body. She wiped him with a perfumed wet towel, like the aristocracy of the fifteenth century. She said this, giggling - she would only shush him in front of people. Attention-grabbing glances would make her flutter, but as he grew older, the tricks didn't work very well, and she began to sprinkle nitrite on his biscuits.

He stole her powder and sprinkled it all over Chalisi. In White's brandy, he didn't feel a hint of panic or guilt about it, and he closed the door to the box and covered Charis's head with a pillow so that her cries for help would not be heard by anyone outside.

Throughout the process, he followed the instructions of the venerable doctor and hid the CD of "Ave Maria" in his clothes, and he still remembers the feeling of the hard, cold metal against his stomach.

He lost his mother and became an orphan, but he was soon adopted, and that man was a former patient of the doctor, and he also received the same favor from the doctor, so he was willing to do a little bit, Richard. White had a rich and safe environment, but in the first year or two, too much nitrite intake had affected his physical and intellectual development, and he was a weak, small, ordinary-looking, introverted and gloomy guy in school who was not worth mentioning in any way - luckily he also had a doctor, who inspired him to have a talent for drawing, which covered up all his shortcomings and made him radiant, even from Manchester's demanding admissions officers.

An admirer deliberately opened a gallery filled with his work.

But none of this is Richard. All White cared about, he just wanted to know if the doctor was proud of him...... Of course, he knows that the doctor has a son, but he will not be jealous of him, because he loves the doctor, and everything the doctor loves is what he loves, and he will obey the doctor's arrangement and become Sasha. Hopkins' another credible arm.

And he's so beautiful.

Richard painted plants, stones, rivers, animals, insects, but he never painted people, and there were jealous people who thought he couldn't paint people. Only Richard. White knew that the reason why he didn't draw people was because the vast majority of humans were so ugly that ugliness couldn't make him lift his pen*.

"You seem to have forgotten me." Richard said to himself, "But it's okay, we can start again." ”

He opened his laptop in the bathroom and sent a brief email to Dr. Hopkins, who was far away on Poseidon Island.

***

Dr. Hopkins deleted the email and turned off his laptop.

It seems that everything is not bad.

Manchester is not Grande. It is impossible to allow such as Anthony. Dangerous people like Hopkins became a member of the school, and because of the war, Anthony Hopkins became a member of the school. Hopkins only got back the property he had inherited from his father and grandfather when he came of age, he had not studied and studied in Manchester, so he was not an old alumnus who could come and go in Manchester at any time, and he had to manage to arrange for a credible person to stay with Sasha. Richard. White is a good helper, his brain may be a little dull, but he is loyal enough, and his talent ensures that he will be able to get a place in Manchester.

But not being able to be by his son's side all the time still upsets Dr. Hopkins, and perhaps a cup of absinthe would be a good choice. He found the wine and the glass, but there were no sugar cubes, and he went downstairs to look for them in the kitchen.

Old Andreana is collecting and wiping a whole set of silver cutlery, which is engraved with heraldic coats of arms and can be used to make Chegalle. Bisandi's great-grandfather, who is said to have paid part of the ransom paid by a venerable cardinal, had come to visit the Governor, but was warmly entertained by the Bisandi family for a whole month.

"Hot or cold?" Old Andreana asked. A spoon is required to drink it cold, as cold water needs to pass through a sugar cube placed on a spoon to soak into the absinthe, and not to drink it hot. Ignite the sugar cube and throw it into the absinthe, then immediately pour the cold water.

"Give me a spoon." Hopkins said.

Old Andreana handed over a flat spoon with the name engraved on the end, which was probably a baptismal gift, and the name on it belonged to the baptized child.

The doctor rested the spoon with the sugar cube on the absinthe glass as he was about to pour cold water. A swift black shadow swooped down from above.

The spoon hits the cup with a crisp clanging sound. It jumped out of its cup like a swordfish hooked by a hook.

It stabbed straight at the shadow. The shadow collided with it in the air, and both old Andreana and Hopkins heard a dull pop, but it didn't look like it had been pierced—the shadow fell on the stainless steel countertop that had been polished by old Andreana, and the spoon struck the surface with an even louder thudding sound.

"God," cried old Andreana, "what is this?" ”

"One hand." Dr. Hopkins said.

It was a separate, solitary hand, a hand they were familiar with, fat and piercing, but the fingers were flexible as if they had been greased, the nails were trimmed into flat mouths, the ring finger and thumb were ringed, and where it was supposed to be connected to the wrist dragged a flesh-colored flat tail, which stood and jumped against the "tail", and the fingers gripped the spoon in a flash, and spun around on the countertop.

It found its target, the sugar cubes scattered on the countertop, and out of the spoon, and a large plate, which old Andreana had not yet put back, threw the spoon away, pounced on the pile of sugar cubes, cracked a bright red hole, and sucked greedily.

"Oh, looks like you've found it."

Chegalle. Bisandi said as he stood in the kitchen door, his pajamas, his legs melting and stretching out quickly, forming a fine net in the air, accurately enclosing the right hand that had given up what little sugar cube was left and was about to flee again.

"It's okay," he said comfortingly, "I think it's just a little hungry." ”

The hand bit the net frantically.

No blood dripped down, and the net melted again, and with the hand in the net, it retracted, like a rewind in a movie, back into its pajamas, and Chegalle lifted his empty sleeve, and his new right hand grew back from its bare end, still wearing the two rings.

(To be continued) (To be continued)

ps: Ah, I didn't find out that it was good to truncate halfway through writing, so the two chapters were one.