Like a bored spaceport passenger, he can't help but endure the considerate CD-ROM video service during the halftime of the transit, and then swallow an "angel dust" that cleans the nerves of the brain when the starship departs, in the wings of high speed and vacuum.

Or, sometimes even worse, when he fell to the extreme, he had to receive the pain and madness similar to that of the text addicts hundreds of millions of years ago in the bodies he threw himself into his arms: on the one hand, with compulsive devotion, he kept flipping through pages of words full of corpses and rainy days, broken mouths and vicious beauties; On the one hand, he never forgets to mutter, curse, praise, and smash the book on his head at a moment when he can't continue, but he wants to forget the mass of slurry that makes him anxious.

Delicious and despicable garbage, it is an indispensable anesthetic or whip to get through some moments. But when the effect wore off, like a jagged gravel washed back to shore by the waves, he was eager to dig out the wet bait from his internal organs and throw it out of his body viciously.

However, those were just misaligned sawblades—no matter how grinning they were, they couldn't splash the slightest bit of blood.

It is only when you touch that indescribable crack that you have never known that you will have a sense of pain and an epiphany about your own weakness.

The slender stream of light, which gritted and gritted its teeth, poured into the huge and boundless deep black well with the same size and style, and grabbed a few ancient and immature pebbles.

The narrator beside him, with his snorting and brutal life experience, is right on his famine and heart.

Lucifer wanted to toast him with the most bitter and spicy drink, to bite into the most intolerable forbidden area in his history, to pull him by the hair, to dig into the undulating triangle from neck to chest.

"Oh, I'm sure you want to do it, and I want to keep squandering it for eternity—no room, no intermission, no toothy procrastination or talk."

Leola leaned close to him, her crescent-like jaw pressed against his shoulder, almost pushing out a small cavity in his bone.

"What I want most now is to do something with you—even if it's the 'Rattlesnake' pirate moon in the constellation Ophiuchus, sneaking into the detached and outdated trio of single cabins, climbing up and down each other's bodies, and having fun with all the spoofs you've mastered. Everything was fine, it was all what I wanted. But..."

Lucifer waited.

Good, apparently there's an ultimatum

。 He'd known for a long time that there was no special prize for opening his mouth and sliding from the sky with strings of fresh cherries.

The only time he tried to eat fruit for nothing, he was really entangled, and the time of the claim was as long as several cycles of creation and destruction!

Fatally, he knew that if he wanted to reach the unspeakable hospitality, there would be all sorts of whimsical trials to be taught. So, the begging smile in front of him, which was so sneaky that he wanted to lick it off, must have harbored a dozen criminals who detained countless prefaces and afterwords.

"But," Leo stretched out a translucent finger large enough to wait for the photon rays of Fumala, and inserted his violently trembling clavicle delta like a lotus flower into the soil, pulling out a dream-like incarnation of calamity.

"I still have a lot of things to do, the only one thing I have to do."

With the anomalous object expelled from her body, Leora's form was bathed in a bright film of sulfur glass.

The puddle of material quickly blocked his physical-skin-to-body rendezvous with Lucifer, forming a threshold that could only escape and not return.

Lucifer was taken aback, wasn't that the seven-pointed star pass of the extradimensional dimension? This impulsive guy, what does he want to do?!

This is the fruit of Sitarna's refinement, and the only gift she left me.

Now, I finally have the courage to use it. Through the infinite heptagonal gate, I will truly say goodbye to the past, and then... after that, before the billions of nights, in the leakage of light, in the stamens of darkness - no matter what world, that time and space, I will finally step into your threshold and meet you again.

I wonder what kind of spiritual transformation it will be? Lucifer stared in confusion at the point of light that was condensing and then exploding out of thin air.

Then, he reached for the back of his materialized neck and fished out a long, silky silver hair.

He lightly bites the remnants of love and sorrow, grinning slightly, outlining a touch of exclusive and exclusive to the devil, as well as the same amount of cynicism.

"Really..."

After a spin, Lucifer snorted softly and strode away from what should have been a mournful farewell. He was not accompanied by ethereal and dreamy verses, but a series of sharp scoldings and coquettishness.

"You're as brave as a stupid samurai, you young boy with no navigation system! I think I have nothing to say, just like your boss, please run away after that. I'm not a kindergarten for baby swords! ”

"Hey, this thing looks so much fun! Let me see! ”

Soroast's red hair was lost in the inside of Lucifer's robe, and he tilted his head to look at the circle of Kabbalah magic embedded in Lucifer's neck. At first glance, Lucifer's neck seemed to be sealed by a circle of inorganic objects that penetrated straight to the bone, but the extradimensional perception told Zoroast that it was not enough!

Instinct told him that, in fact, as long as he could drive down the neck of the king of hell, like plucking the wings of an arrogant swan, cruel and full of love, he had no choice but to aimlessly follow the target. In this way, all hell will fall and pour out of this swan song...

But, of course, he is not so bad now.

His face rested obediently and skillfully at Lucifer's throat, like a bored pet that was careless to his master.