Personality V: I will save everything

Just as the forward walked past Andrew, he couldn't help but stop, looked up in surprise, his eyes fixed on the extremely cute rabbit headgear on Andrew's head.

As if he had seen something incredible, the forward opened his eyes wide, his mouth slightly open, and he was unable to come back to his senses for a long time.

After a moment, the forward seemed to suddenly remember something, turned his head sharply, and cast his gaze towards the owner of the manor who was standing in the distance.

Then, he asked softly with a tone of doubt and curiosity: "Does He... often do this?" Although his voice was soft, it was particularly clear in this quiet environment.

Hearing this, Andrew just glanced at the forward lightly, with an expression of being accustomed to it on his face. He shrugged helplessly and said, "You'll get used to it. (=_=)" After that, he no longer paid attention to the other party and continued to stand there and watch.

You know, from childhood to adulthood, Andrew has always been treated as a toy by his father, kneading and playing with him at will. Sometimes he would even be flattened or kneaded into a strange shape.

However, despite this, Andrew still managed to grow up to his current age. Whenever he recalled the days he spent under his father's "claws", Andrew couldn't help but roll his eyes and thought to himself: God knows how I grew up in that environment! (→_→)

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the other side,

Didn't Andrew think I saw the look in his eyes? I really don't know what went wrong with my upbringing. When he was little, he would follow me around and call me daddy, asking for a hug.

Thinking back to the past......

Hey, look at this cute little baby. His chubby little face is like a freshly baked bun, which makes people want to pinch it. His big watery eyes are like the twinkling stars in the night sky, clear and bright. Looking at this little guy, a warm current can't help but surge in my heart, as if the whole world has become soft.

"Who is mommy's good baby?" A gentle voice sounded, full of maternal care and doting. The baby seemed to understand what his mother said, waving his chubby little hands and making babbling sounds, as if responding to his mother's call.

During that time, whenever I saw the adorable and cute little Andrew and the chubby little Carl who was still in his cradle, my heart was almost melted by them.

So, I always can't wait to stretch out my arms and gently hold these two cute little guys in my arms.

Then, hehehe, I began to kiss their chubby little faces crazily, over and over again, and I couldn't stop at all. "Kiss kiss kiss kiss kiss," I kept muttering while kissing them, as if I couldn't love them enough.

Come to think of it, our relatively active system at that time often mocked me. It always complained to me: "Host, are you raising children, or are you treating them like kittens?"

Every time I hear this, I would respond without any hesitation by giving it a big eye roll, followed by a loud slap on the head - that is, a hard knock on the head.

Humph, I muttered to myself, this is the child I raised with great effort, I can love him however I want and spoil him however I want, why do you have the right to interfere?

Besides, shouldn’t these cute babies stay with us and have some fun? Who makes them so lovable?

Oh, what a pity! All the good things in the past are like flowing water, gone forever.

I remember that when they were still innocent, naive and lovely children, they were so close to me.

Especially when I fall asleep at night, the two little figures always can't wait to get into my arms, snuggle up to me, and ask for a hug like a spoiled child.

But now, as they grow older, they become reserved for some reason.

She was so attached to me when she was little, and even refused to leave my arms when she slept. But now, facing the big bed that was once full of warmth and laughter, there is only coldness and loneliness.

For me, who has long been accustomed to falling asleep with two soft little balls in my arms every night, such a sudden change is really hard to accept.

Whenever night falls, I lie alone on my empty bed, and the loneliness in my heart surges in like a tide, wave after wave, unable to calm down for a long time.

My dears, do you know that when you grew up and no longer let me kiss you and hug you, it felt like a piece of my heart was dug out, and I felt so empty and uncomfortable. (T ^ T)

But what comforts me a little bit is that now I have two "toys" to play with me. (o﹃o )

Hehehe, as the saying goes: "Socially phobic people are toys of social bullies." Now this sentence is truly presented before our eyes in a concrete way!

Hey hey hey hey!!!

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The gravekeeper was about to collapse, and he was almost speechless! (~_~;)

When he first heard that Mrs. Bess was the owner of the manor in their world, his first reaction was that the gentle and kind appearance that this lady usually displayed must be a disguise.

But what is the truth?

Alas, I really don’t know how to describe it. From a certain perspective, it can indeed be called “pretending”.

From childhood to adulthood, the gravekeeper had never met anyone as unique as Mrs. Bess.

In his past life, people around him all looked at him strangely and avoided him as if he were a monster.

Not to mention that someone would open their arms and hug him like Mrs. Bess did, even if he got a little closer, those people would quickly move away with disgust on their faces.

For a long time, he had been subjected to endless beatings, scoldings and ruthless expulsions. These experiences made the gravekeeper subconsciously keep a distance from others, and others also kept a distance from him and had no intention of getting close to him.

But now, I can so clearly feel being held tightly in the arms of Mrs. Bess - or more precisely, the owner of the manor from another world. That feeling of warmth and security...well, it seems unexpectedly wonderful.

The undertaker felt uncomfortable all over at this moment, and that terrible feeling surged into his heart like a tide...

At this moment, he was huddled in the warm embrace of the manor owner, but all the muscles in his body were as tense as a bow with a full string, stiff and unable to relax.

Every inch of skin seemed to be resisting this intimate contact, as if this was not a comforting hug, but an invisible restraint and oppression.

He hated the feeling of being hugged, let alone any physical contact with others.

Because every time this happened, those painful memories would surge in like a flood and drown him - his mind would involuntarily emerge with the hideous and distorted face of his adoptive father and all the terrible things he had done to him.

When he thought of this, the hatred he felt for his adoptive father burned like a raging fire, growing stronger and stronger. He gnashed his teeth and cursed in his heart, "I hate Jay! That damn bastard!"

All the memories related to my adoptive father are as black as ink, as heavy and depressing as a block of lead, and emit a disgusting stench.

These memories were like a series of hideous nightmares that haunted the undertaker, making it difficult for him to breathe a breath of fresh air, like a drowning man.

The undertaker was filled with endless fear and disgust not only for his adoptive father, but also for anything that could wrap him up tightly and restrain his soul that longed for freedom.

It was because those things would always bring back the most painful memories deep in his mind - being mercilessly hit on the head by a ball of crumpled waste paper, and then being roughly stuffed into a dirty sack, and being subjected to wanton insults and beatings.

The worst time, he was even nailed into a coffin by those guys. The double fear of darkness and suffocation was something he never wanted to experience again in his life.

The feeling of being tortured both physically and mentally was engraved deeply into his bones like a brand.

Jay, a seemingly kind and friendly guy, pretended to be gentle and considerate on the surface. He opened his arms and hugged the undertaker tightly, whispering softly to comfort his traumatized heart.

But what is the reality? This is just a more sinister and cunning method. Jay is quietly brainwashing the undertaker, trying to make him fall into it and become his puppet forever, losing the courage and strength to escape from the clutches of the devil and regain a new life.

The undertaker hated anything that would wrap him up.

No matter whether it was a soft quilt or heavy clothes, the slightest touch would immediately make his nerves tense up, as if he was going to suffocate in the next second.

But the funny thing is that after growing up, the undertaker actually likes the feeling of staying in the coffin. He is not afraid of death. To him, death is just a way for him to see his mother again. It is just his only way to escape from all the pain.

The feeling of everyone being in the coffin made him feel at ease, but that didn't mean he liked being wrapped in anything other than a coffin.

"Oh, my dear child, don't be afraid, don't be afraid, everything will be fine..." The manor owner from another world who hugged her tightly said in a gentle and soothing tone, and at the same time stretched out his hand as if to touch her head.

The undertaker felt his stomach churning and a feeling of nausea surged into his heart like a tide, almost making him vomit.

In his heart he longed to immediately break free from this suffocating embrace and escape from this place far away.

However, no matter how hard he struggled, his body seemed to be under a spell and did not obey his brain at all.

At this moment, something unexpected happened to the undertaker. When the manor owner finally placed his hand gently on his head, a strange feeling instantly spread throughout his body.

There was no temperature at all in that hand; it was as cold as a dead person's hand.

Normally, such a touch would be creepy, but for the undertaker, it had the exact opposite effect.

Because the deceased had always been the only thing he loved, and at this moment, the manor owner's hands, as cold as a dead person, miraculously soothed his extremely tense nerves, and gradually calmed his restless heart.

As I watched the undertaker gradually regain his composure, I couldn't help but laugh softly in my heart.

As expected, this undertaker seemed to be more fond of the cold body temperature of the deceased.

When I hugged him in the warm embrace of a living person, I could clearly feel the stiffness and discomfort in his body.

After realizing this, I quickly adjusted my body temperature, trying to make myself feel as cold as death.

Fortunately, the little guy really calmed down slowly.

I stroked the undertaker gently, over and over again, trying to give him some comfort.

However, at the same time, a faint pain welled up in my heart. This poor little guy didn't even know how to interact with ordinary people normally.

Oddly enough, I shouldn't have felt anything at all about this sort of thing.

But maybe it was because I had taken good care of Carl for such a long time, that after seeing the undertaker from another world with my own eyes, I unexpectedly felt pity for him in my heart.

For some reason, my eyes began to become slightly moist, and the feeling of wanting to cry but trying hard to hold back the tears came over me.

If you think about it carefully, this feeling is not without reason. If this child can grow up smoothly, maybe he will live a free and carefree life like Carl, or even become a little willful and lawless.

However, it is regrettable that there is no such thing as "if" in this world...

In this world, in the eyes of gravekeepers and undertakers, I am just a weird existence whom I have known for less than half a year.

In their eyes, I was like a mysterious god. Although I could occasionally display some abilities beyond the comprehension of ordinary people, I was ultimately an insurmountable distance away from them.

What I am going to say next may be something they haven’t heard for a long time, but I still want to say it…

"I love you all......."