Or because of the growing bloated (to the point of peculiarity), Chegalle. He liked the spacious, empty space more than he had before, but he wanted to have enough furniture, so his bedroom was three or four times the size of the other rooms, almost the same size as the other rooms, a terrace overlooking the sea, saddle-brown oak cabinets and tables and chairs firmly placed against the walls and corners, dark greenish brown floors—according to the custom of the people of Poseidon Island, they used the planks of old ships that could no longer be used to make the floor, and the wood was exposed to the scorching sun. Washed by the waves, bumped, cracked, struck and gnawed by sea beasts or sharks, covered with barnacles and oysters, rusted by the nails that were deeply embedded in their bodies, and left a deep black mark on the wood, day after day, year after year, when they could no longer be pushed into the sea, carrying their owners to catch sardines and tuna, the mottled pimple was a sight to behold—and it was no better to use it for flooring, because it would not rot or worm.

In the center of the room lay a carpet of fine handmade wool, similar to a cocoa colour with milk, and the pattern was an unusually fine hollow square, a little thin, but it was woven by old Andreana herself, and she also knitted a large shawl to cover the back of the huge soft leather chair, and she made several pairs of oversized slippers for Chegalle.

As every day before Chegalle. Besan was entrenched in the black throne of soft lambskins, and the special furniture looked more like an open bird's nest than the chair, and his feet were buried in thorny wool felt slippers. Holding a plate of biscuits in both hands, the moonlight illuminated his fat, leavened nose, casting a small dark shadow over his midriff.

He used to be very handsome, really, Beelzebub. Bisandi is a lot like him. Especially when he grows taller, he is simply a wonderful replica, but some old-fashioned old fellows think that he has always been a little less bloody than his father, not that he lacks courage and courage. It's just that he can be a little sentimental a lot of the time, but there are also people who have the opposite attitude to them, who think that a scrupling ruler may be more suitable for the current Poseidon Island.

Only a few people were allowed to enter this room, including Chegalle, of course. Son of Bisandi.

Beelzebub took off his shoes. Then came the coat, and old Andreana didn't even let him go back to his room first, his shoes and coat were covered with sand and dust.

"You see Anthony. Hopkins yet? ”

"Nope." Beelzebub said, "You told me not to contact anyone." ”

"He's gone to see his son," Chegal said, "helicopter to take him and pick you up, I thought you'd run into him." He nodded, motioning for Beelzebub to sit down in an armchair facing him.

"He should have gone straight to the hospital," Beelzebub said, "and Sasha got into an explosion." ”

"The injuries that could have brought that kid to the hospital wouldn't be too minor." Chegal understood, "I hope I didn't embarrass you too much, you definitely want to see him." ”

Beelzebub shook his head slightly. Emotion has never been a tradition for the people of Poseidon Island, with the exception of the great Hopkins, this dangerous man has long used his ability and wisdom to gain the respect of the people of Poseidon Island, he has done a lot of things, but he has not received many benefits and rights, and in return he has been isolated from the control of "Masoye". He could have avoided the actions of the Poseidon Islanders, but Beelzebub couldn't. He's not just a Poseidon Islander, he's their future leader.

"I can go see him later." Beelzebub said. Trying to get rid of that deepest bit of uneasiness.

"Soon," Chegalle promised, "it's just a little bit of something very important to let you know, and while we'll have to wait a little bit, I promise it won't waste too much of your time." ”

"It is all right," said Beelzebub, "and I am willing to sit with you." ”

"That's right," Chegalle: "Sometimes I laugh at Anthony. Hopkins – Sometimes he's like having a daughter instead of a son, but I have to admit that it's nice to have a sweet snack once in a while...... They used to dance together, play the piano, read and cook in the kitchen – don't count on me to play the piano, and so did the others, but we could have a drink together, and eat some biscuits, biscuits made by old Andreana, chili biscuits. ”

"What would you like to drink?" Beelzebub asked respectfully.

"I remember I still had a bottle of mulled wine." Chegalle said: "Irish, mix some vodka into it." ”

"It seems that old Andreana is about to make milk pudding out of this," Beelzebub said, pulling out the bottle and glass, "Are you sure she doesn't know?" ”

"What's the big deal," said Chegalle, the scoundrel, squirming his neck, Beelzebub guessing that he was shrugging, "it's all for me, and there's not much difference between drinking it and eating it." ”

Beelzebub smiled pretentiously, and he poured a large glass for Chegalle, and gave himself half a glass, the milky sweet wine tasted heavy and creamy.

Chegalle. Bisandi wasn't a chatter and reminiscence person, but he did talk a little more tonight than before, maybe he just wanted to comfort his son?

Unusually, Beelzebub felt tired, and the armchair beneath him was also one of Chegalle's lair, large, soft, and scented of leather, and pillows filled with countless small fluffs properly supported his back and waist.

"If you're tired," Chegalle said, "you can take a nap." ”

Beelzebub didn't speak, didn't take a nap as Chegal said, he looked at the floor-to-ceiling windows and doors leading to the terrace, "Don" mansion is of course different from ordinary people, the floor-to-ceiling windows and doors of the terrace are made of tempered double glass sandwiched with a layer of polycarbonate fiber, which can absorb some of the energy generated during the impact and explosion, and can only be broken with heavy firearms from the outside, but the people inside can shoot the people outside - the latest one-way bulletproof glass, which is used by banks and police stations in the western continent.

Now that the doors and windows are well closed, and the fresh air unit is still working, the room is inevitably filled with unnatural hot flashes. The light of the light was creamy yellow, and the air seemed to be semi-solidified and weighty.

He lowered his head to examine the black pattern on the floor, the rusted spikes that had been left on the wood by decades of time, and the wood was so smooth and polished. A dark stain was facing his face, like a grinning clown.

Pepper biscuits, Beelzebub thought dizzily, this is still Sasha brought to Poseidon Island, this guy with a bad sense of taste...... Everything is spinning...... He hadn't felt tired in a long time, and both he and Sasha had tried to stay awake for two weeks. Our Lady, he probably read about half the library in those two weeks...... It's safe here...... Fluffy ...... He's protected here...... By his side was his father...... He felt like he had ...... He could also hear the sounds outside (very soft, like whispering) and feel the light outside (very faint, like a translucent film). But the touch of the fingers and soles of the feet is gone.

This was not an option, Beelzebub stubbornly tried to stand up, and he stood up, fluttering, his vision hazy, he patted his cheeks, rubbed his eyes, and his skin received a gentle pressure. But it was still business as usual, and the son of the leader of the mob became agitated for no reason, which was not good. He said to himself, and to his father, who had been sitting in the chair, I don't want to sleep, no, no, no, it's dangerous. Where is the danger? I don't know, it can't go on like this anyway- he turned and stared at the patio door. Horrified to find that they had been opened, and no wind or air had come in. Everything was still quiet and steady, and he walked out, his toes on the bare and warm ground like a living one—he stood on the terrace, the sky was bright, the sea and the earth were like an oil painting, huge and continuous.

This is not what he sees, but appears directly in his mind, and many people will think that this is what they see - vision is a physiological word, light acts on the visual organs, so that its sensory cells are excited, and the information captured by the sensory cells is sent to the visual nervous system for processing before producing vision, so it is difficult for ordinary people to distinguish between "thinking" seeing and "really" seeing.

Beelzebub is not.

He tried to shout, but his tongue and lips remained silent—the voice he heard...... It was also his brain that told him.

Chegalle behind him. There was no movement in Bissandi.

***

Old Andreana sits in Chegalle. Outside the door of Bisandi, the old woman was accompanied by her favorite rocking chair, a basket of wool containing crochet and chick-yellow wool, and she was ready to hook a hat to the chief.

In the room is Chegalle. Bisandi, if anyone could recognize the flesh that overflowed an entire room.

No one knew that old Andreana was still a witch, but it was a pity that when she had this power, she was already old.

She tiptoed and pushed the rocking chair, crocheting her hands as she listened to the action, "You should have done this a long time ago, Chegalle," she muttered, "It's no one's good to delay." She also liked Beelzebub's child, but unfortunately he was still too light compared to Chegal. As soon as Chegalle ate the child, the terrifying collapse of his body could be stopped—that was the judgment of old Andreana, who, though not a doctor, was far more capable than any professional—and said patiently over and over again, like an older sister who was in charge of feeding her disobedient brother bitter medicine: "Your body is shouting to eat the child, I can hear you, Chegalle, you have to satisfy it—you should feel it." ”

Chegal felt it, so he simply sent the boy far away, barely meeting him alone.

He may have thought it was time to put Poseidon and Masoye in Beelzebub's hands, but old Andreana didn't think so, she preferred a more secure approach, and if Chegal had eaten Beelzebub, he would have lived well for decades, enough for him to raise another heir, a legitimate child, a stronger and more ruthless, more ...... Poseidon Island is a little bit.

Beelzebub, the little fool, probably didn't know that there were many people on the island who were dissatisfied with him, and he thought that he was well disguised, but wouldn't a wolf who liked to eat grass be suspected of being a sheep?

The crochet paused for a moment, and old Andreana remembered Sasha. Hopkins, a little angel, Chegare. Bisandi was raised as a Poseidon Islander, but Anthony. Hopkins seems to have a different opinion - the people of Poseidon Island who have worked with him are always a little "regretful". Most of them are clumsy, and it is difficult to describe exactly how they feel, but the general meaning of old Andreana can still be understood - he is obviously more capable and "better", but he always stops there, unwilling to go any further. Unwilling to stand with them – it's worse than being a coward, a traitor, or a selfish person.

She bowed her head and went on with her work, but it didn't matter, once Beelzebub died, the boy and his father would leave, and perhaps someone would want to silence them forever. Then she has to find a way to dispel the idea of those daredevils, if Hopkins can return to his world, it will still be good for Poseidon Island and "Masoye", after all, it will be at least twenty years until the next heir goes to the Western Continent to study at university.

I can't be a colleague and a subordinate. At least they can become "friends", "Don" always has a lot of friends.

Old Andreana straightened her waist and heard the rattle of bones. Hopkins would be sad that she took Anthony. Hopkins got out because of this, and who knows what this guy who values his son more than anything else will do? Anthony. Hopkins was a delicate and perceptive villain, he was good at spotting clues, and he was good at grasping every fleeting gap, and old Andreana wasn't sure she could control him—so. Even if it was an unexpected event — when she was notified of the bombing, she knew it was a good opportunity that might never happen again.

Injuries that can make a supernatural stun are not a trivial problem, not to mention that the Hopkins in the Western Continent also have many enemies. Anthony. Hopkins must have rushed over at once, and all old Andreana had to do was to recall Beelzebub under the guise of Chegalle, and she would have put in place those who might be inclined to Beelzebub, such as Beep, just in case. Amp's little bastards, and Pepi. After all, he had been Beelzebub's adoptive father for more than ten years, and she sent them all to the Western Continent - all right. Next up is Chegalle. Bisandi, quite simply, he had little defense against her, and his body was already fragile.

The only thing that kept her heart up was Beelzebub, and luckily the boy believed in her as well.

The pieces of meat were cooing on the other side of the door, had they eaten Beelzebub? Not yet, Beelzebub was a tenacious child, his body was healthy and strong, and his will was strong, and it was not easy to keep him in his own mind.

The poor boy seemed to have sensed that something was wrong,

But...... It's too late.

***

Let anyone with a modicum of medical common sense think that sand is sprinkled. Hopkins was still in a deep sleep, he slept so quietly that his eyes didn't move, and if a doctor had connected him to an EEG machine, the results would have been no different.

Only Anthony. Hopkins knew he wasn't asleep—the anesthetic had failed half an hour earlier, and he was in the instinct of the paranormal to protect himself. Hopkins came to his senses the next moment the drug wore off, and when he saw his father, he didn't have time to say a word, and then hurriedly fell into a coma again—just a short glance, compared to that of his father, Anthony. Hopkins had a warm and pleasant after-party, and he clearly had more important things to do.

Nobody knows about Anthony. Hopkins had many hiding places, and today they live in only the most inconspicuous of them, a doctor's private practice. Hopkins got a large sum of money and simply carried his luggage to the fastest plane to leave, the nurses, patients and cleaners of the clinic were given urgent notice, the utility bills were paid, and the clinic had a sophisticated and complete set of equipment, instruments and medicines, as well as bedrooms, bathrooms and kitchens.

No one will bother them.

Hopkins fed Sasha with some honey water with a syringe, cleaned his body, and changed his clothes (slippery and loose cotton), and if his speculation was true (which is likely), then they would have to wait here for a while.

After doing all this, he sat down in his chair and closed his eyes.

Just as many young boys in the western continent share a cement pipe, tree house, or trash can with their friends, Sasha and Beelzebub also have a shared secret room, as their father, Anthony. Hopkins was neither surprised nor annoyed by this, he even thought it was cute. He also sneaked in with great interest to admire it for a while—leaving behind an anchor point that he could reach at any time if he wanted to.

In any case, Sasha is ahead of all things.

Anthony. Hopkins easily grasped the anchor point, and the two children's cottage was built outside the Hopkins' memory palace, floating alone in a beautiful sea of stars.

Sasha sat on the floor of the hut, which was in shambles, and he held the mutilated Beelzebub in his arms, looking calm, and at the sight of Anthony. Hopkins was visibly relieved.

"You let him project the outside directly?" Dr. Hopkins said, "It hurts. "In the spirit world, as long as you want to be well, you can be well, this room is set aside by Sasha and shared with Beelzebub, he can completely restore himself to the healthiest state, but they have no way of knowing how bad the situation is outside.

And the projection—Beelzebub could create the body of his mind through his sensory nerves, and what the outer body became, and what the inside was—he had no ears and no hair, one eye missing, bones visible on both elbows and below the knees, several expanding holes in his chest and abdomen, defects in his internal organs, and small wounds.

"He can hold on," said Sasha, "Chegalle. Bisandi was trying to control his body, he didn't want to eat Beelzebub, but Beelzebub's brain had been turned into a prison, he couldn't go back, and now his body was purely instinctive to hide and resist. ”

"What do you want to do?"

"Get into his brain through Beelzebub's connection to his body - and then crush that man."

"It's kind of dangerous."

"No, it's not dangerous at all," Sasha smiled slyly and sweetly, "I have you." ”

(To be continued) (To be continued)