Beast

But the poet didn't answer, as soon as the door closed, he immediately lowered his body, bent his elbow and hit the lover's rib.

The lover lost his strength, while the poet grabbed his wrist, twisted it hard, and twisted the gun away.The other hand took the pistol directly, and took the first step to meet the lover's eyebrows.

"Don't use a gun in front of me," said the poet.

Love Saint smiled, nodded, and spread his hands, "So you kill me now, or smoke a cigarette?"

The poet's eyebrows twitched for a moment.

Cuenca's order was to take away C4, but obviously he had failed.

Cuenca is very angry with Mario because of the casualties of the last ship, and he also understands Mario's temper. If he can't catch his pain point, then Mario will run away without a trace at the first time, pretending that there is no such thing at all. something happens.

But if C4 is caught, the situation is different.

Cuenca has doctors and equipment around him, as well as a house on an island. He can put C4 under house arrest, and wait until the situation subsides before listening to Mario's explanation and discussing compensation.

Let Mario tell himself clearly—what is the reason? When the limelight is so tense, he might not know why he stopped trading, but instead stuffed double the number of people into a freighter.

"Send C4 back, and I'll smoke a cigarette with you." The poet said, and opened the safety catch of the gun, "Otherwise I don't want your life, and I won't let you go back intact."

Love Saint's face turned cold, he shook his head lightly, and said flatly - "Then you shoot."

The poet really pulls the trigger, as both the poet himself and the lover know.It is difficult for them to disobey the owner's order, which will not only shake their faith, but also screw up the rest of their lives.

They have messed up the first half of their lives with their own hands, and if this is the case again, God will probably not give a third chance to shuffle the cards and start over.

The moment the poet moved his fingers, the lover gave his arm a jerk.

So the bullet hit the cabinet next to it, gouging out a black hole.

And the lover immediately raised his foot and kicked the poet's stomach.This kick was so hard that the poet's lower back hit the hospital bed directly, and even tore off the translucent curtain.

However, before the poet raised his gun again, the lover turned around and kicked again, this kick swept the poet's head, causing the back of his head to hit the floor directly.

The feeling of dizziness for a moment made his eyes stare, and then his wrist hurt, and the pistol was kicked away under the ruthless kick of the lover.

Love Saint really didn't like to use guns at all, so he just took the gun away and walked towards the door.His task has been completed, and although it is planned to fight the poet, there is no point in delaying it.

But the poet didn't allow it. He quickly hugged the lover's ankle with his eyes and hands, and with a violent force, he tore the lover off together. Then he reached out and touched it, and nimbly pulled out the shark knife from the side of the lover's trouser leg.

Thanks to the lovers who arrange the clothes one by one before they do that, the poet has time to study these cold weapons beside him.

Love Saint wanted to guard against it, but he didn't have time.

The poet clenched his dagger tightly and swiped at the lover.

In an instant, the arm of the mistress was torn open, and blood spattered on the clothes and the floor.

The lover was in pain, and with his intact hand he punched the poet's head.He wanted to take the dagger back, but the other hand was also scratched by the poet.

The dagger is so sharp that the poet pressed it to the neck of the lover in the next second.

"Don't force me," said the poet, "I don't want your blood on my hands."

"That's why you like to use guns," Qing Sheng laughed hoarsely, then changed the topic and said sharply—"Is it because your father's blood once flowed on your hands? That warm, sticky, seems to be accusing you--"

The poet didn't wait for him to finish, he punched the lover's face with a fist, and the blade bit into the opponent's neck, leaving a shallow bloodstain.

The lover spit out a mouthful of blood and looked at the poet.

He didn't stop talking because of the punch, but continued to ask—"What was it like, poet? Killing your father, mother, brother, and letting their blood stain your body. Did you feel like this? Run all the way, run all the way—"

The poet punched again, and this punch made himself red-eyed.

In fact, the love saint doesn't often see the red-eyed look of the other party. The poet always seems to be lazy and his eyes are not focused.When he killed someone, he would shoot from a distance, then light a cigarette and walk in the opposite direction as if he had done nothing.

When he finished smoking a cigarette, he would put it out, then turn back, and call everyone to clean up the corpse.

"Tell me, did you escape?"

The Lover spit out another mouthful of blood, and returned his eyes to the poet's face for the third time, seeing the sweat overflowing from the poet's forehead, he smiled shamelessly, and answered for him—"You can't escape, that thing is in your chest Chasing after you. As soon as you stop, it eats you up. Then you wake up crying like a fool, crying for someone to hold you, crying about how scared you are, shaking— "

This time the poet didn't stop, he punched the lover several times one after another.

Yes, he would wake up crying, more than once, and to his regret now, he had also woken up crying next to his lover.

He never dreamed of a specific human face, but the red leaves filled his dreams.Those verses were like the murmur of hell, uttered from the depths of his soul, from his own throat.

That voice repeated over and over again for decades. From his childhood, like creepers growing tenaciously, it spread densely to adulthood, wrapping the first half of his life tightly, making it unsightly.

Love Saint is right, he cannot escape, so he must find that safe island, he believes that as long as he crosses the ocean and builds a fortress on the island, he will be able to isolate everything that cannot be looked back.

Just as he kept kowtowing at the feet of the red robe and the black robe, the purpose of kowtowing was to reborn.

He said please, please forgive me.

He said no, give me a way out.

He said give me scars, please give me scars.

He said I am sin, I am sin.When will I be able to wash away my sins, when will I—it hurts, it hurts, it hurts to the bone, it hurts so much that the first half of his life is shattered.

Love Saint also woke up, he sat up and hugged the trembling poet, he said what's wrong, what happened, don't cry, tell me first.

The poet does not speak, so the lover does not sleep.

The tattoo on that arm hugged him tightly, powerful enough to lift him out of the mud.The poet pressed his head on each other's shoulders, and the sweat of the two rolled down the scars and lines.

Love Saint said, don't be afraid, everyone has had experiences that they don't want to recall, and if you can feel pain, it means that you are very happy now.

Love Saint said, you will run to the destination you want, you will have a house, a home, that is the real home, the home of your imagination.

The love saint also said, you see, I have never had a home, so where should I go.If you cry, the house will be destroyed. If there is no house, where will I find you?

Passionately ran her hands through his hair, smoothing the wet hair gently.The poet hugged the lover tightly and kissed him vigorously in the dark night.They should have never been in love, but why is it so difficult to hurt each other.

The poet smashed hard until the lover was bloody and bloody.

The blood splashed on the white tiles, the white mattress, and the white cabinet, dyeing them bright red and black.

Finally he took the shark knife and put the point of the knife on the shoulder of the lover.The shark knife is extremely sharp, and it enters and exits very quickly. It is impossible to wait for the blood to flow on the hand, so the poet can do it simply.

Then he will clear away the biggest boost from Perot's camp, and the missions in the future will be smoother.

But something thinner fell on the face of the lover, which slightly diluted the blood stains and blurred the vision.

Love Saint didn't struggle any more, he breathed shallowly, as if he was in a coma.But the poet knows he doesn't, he just wants to end their relationship that way.

He couldn't do it, so he left the opportunity to the poet, and let the poet walk to the end for him.

When the poet left, the lover opened his eyes.

Lying on the icy ground, he sensed a wondrous destination.

His whole body was in excruciating pain, and for the first time he didn't want to wake up.Because he didn't know what direction he was going to run this time, and he didn't know the meaning after running.

Fate always likes to create an environment that backfires, so those who want to stop are still walking, but those who don't want to stop are the first to stop.

In the depths of the remote tropical rainforest, Love Saint was once ridden on him and smashed hard.That's when they wrestled and dropped the gun, biting the dagger.He was covered in mud and blood was all over his face.And the victor sat on him, approaching him to the depths of death one by one.

But I don't know why the man stopped in the end. It only stopped for a moment, but it was fatal enough.He looked at the lover's face, and there was a trace of suspicion in his eyes. He seemed to recognize the lover, so he asked——did I ever be in the same team as you?

The love saint didn't answer, when he touched the handle of the knife, the knife plunged into the opponent's throat in the next second.

This problem is unsolvable in the tropical rainforest, so he is the No. 16 teammates and enemies killed by Lover.The love saint has recognized the other person's face long ago, but recognition does not mean that he has to show mercy.

For they are neither children of fire nor children of water.They are not brothers, but lives abandoned by their parents.Blood relationship is meaningless to them, if you don't kill me, I will kill you.

The life that shuttles through the rainforest like wild beasts is so stubborn that the love saint almost loses his due humanity.So he can survive in the rain forest, survive in the Colosseum, and survive mission after mission.

The world forces animals to evolve into humans, but the strange thing is that only animals can survive.Therefore, Lover often doesn't know whether he should be a human or an animal, even if he has lost his life at the hands of a human.

When he went back, Perot didn't see Perot, so he went directly to the bathroom and took a shower.He rinsed off his own blood and the poet's blood until his skin wrinkled from the bath.

Until Perrault knocked on his door and asked if he had hurt anything important.

Yes, there was an injury, but that injury was invisible, something he didn't want to admit or treat.

Love Saint came out of the bathroom and said that everything was fine. He showed Perot a text message on his mobile phone, which said that C4 had safely arrived at Po Sai Wan Private Hospital.

Pero was relieved, and just as Pero was about to call Mario, Love Saint asked abruptly—"Master, if I kill the poet, will you let me kill Cuenca too?"

Perot froze for a moment, shaking his arm holding the phone.His eyes were fixed on the number displayed on the screen, but Love Saint knew that his attention was not on the phone.

"I don't know," Perot came back to his senses, smiled quickly at the lover, and said lightly—"but I hope he won't give me such a chance."

Kunka should leave, since most of his fighting beasts had to be moved or suffered casualties, there was no reason for him to stay here any longer.Because of this, Perot probably will not have the opportunity to continue to play against him.

But in fact Cuenca didn't want to leave. After he listened to the poet's report, he didn't punish the poet.In fact, he thought that it was impossible for him to be one step ahead of Perot. After all, Mario got into trouble in his own direction, so naturally he contacted Perot immediately.

Cuenca tells the poet to rest, and the poet's condition doesn't look very good.He really wanted to ask a few more questions, but when he caught a glimpse of the shark knife that belonged to the lover still in the poet's hand, he knew that it was the same feelings as himself that made the poet fail.

He made a phone call to his sister, but the call didn't go through.

So he called another villager's cell phone, and the person on the other end told him that his sister and brother-in-law had left, and he didn't know where they went.

It’s fine if you don’t know, Kunka let out a long sigh of relief.

He dialed the address book to the column with Perot's number and pressed the call button.Over the past few months, Perot has answered his calls less and less, and this call, too, ended in no answer.

At this moment, another fighting beast knocked on the door and came in. He handed Kunka an envelope, which contained a passport and an air ticket.

Cuenca had finished the job, thoroughly and cleanly, and when Perrault found out that he was emptying his ammunition warehouse, the ammunition was also moved.

Cuenca has no other options.

There are two passports, and the other one may not be sent out.

"You leave tomorrow," Kunka said to the fighting beast who came to report, "According to the time set by the ticket, all of you who follow me every day, all leave."

Cuenca only needs to keep the poet, the more the rest go, the safer he is.

"What about you?" The fighting beast asked, which was a hint that Kunka wanted to terminate the contract with them.To be honest, they are unwilling to do this. Once the contract is terminated, they will be abandoned again.

They don't want to be abandoned, even if the result of abandonment is to keep them alive.

"I'll stay for a while longer, and then I'll meet up with you." Kunka patted the fighting beast on the shoulder to stop him from asking any further questions.

He had already left without saying goodbye once, and this time he wanted to say goodbye to Perrault himself.

And no matter how slim the hope is, he will try to ask the other party and himself to leave again.