A retired magician raises a bucket daily

Language is a curse. Every word, promise, or request that is spoken seems to become a shackle of the language in the end, winding tightly around the body of the recipient. Strangled to death like to follow people forward.

He hadn't found the meaning of his existence at that time. The pain and unwillingness accumulated in his body since he was a child, together with the growing pains of a young man, he cultivated a hard shell, and he hid in it, using what seemed to be indestructible Perfect looks do it all.

But after all, he is still a human being, half of his blood is still human blood, and the selfishness, greed and cowardice in his genes have also grown up with him.At first it was just a budding weed, but then it grew bigger and bigger, the branches grew and buds grew, the branches became thicker, and the leaves became dense, pushing against his body, pulling him into the shade Down.

When his mother told him to 'live', he didn't taste any hope, that shiny thing slipped away from him long ago.His father is a romantic man, he has several wives and multiple daughters, and he is only the only boy among his huge heirs who defected from the family and became a different kind of boy.Sometimes he really feels that the magic society is like a deformed circle not bound by ethics and morality, where you can see all the incredible things in ordinary society, and it is also called the secret and inheritance of magic.

They rotted in there, twisting and thinking that they were fertile to absorb growth.

So when he was taken away by the Tranbelio family and locked up in the house, he just thought coldly: That's it, I can live as long as I can.

The boy's bright eyes looked at everything around him without any emotion. Those people just regarded him as a small animal with great power, and took care of him respectfully, and never regarded him as a person, just like the powerful people around him. The kittens and puppies I keep love it in every possible way, picking up the stars and holding the moon, but in the end I still have to hold a collar around my neck and raise it as livestock.

The only difference between them is that he is still in awe of death.

He could have ended this journey early, because there is no longer anything worthy of his nostalgia in the world.It's just that he stood by the hospital bed, watching his mother's withered face, sunken eye sockets, covered by a thin white cloth, her forehead, nose bridge and lips undulating under the soft cloth, her dead appearance was both sacred and desolate.So he inexplicably felt that death was such a light and heavy thing that could not be shaken.

What did that sentence say?

Do your best to obey the destiny?

Ah yes, that's what the owner of the Chinese restaurant he frequented in Chinatown said.

He has done everything he can, and he can live as long as he can.

But Heraclitus said that one cannot step into the same river twice.So thoughts are always changing.

'Live for me' was undoubtedly a curse to him, but he accepted it willingly, and let that curse bind his free soul, and death has been that way to him ever since Frightening, close at hand and within reach, but begging day and night, hoping that it will come later, so that I can embrace my own hope for a while in the cold and desolate wilderness.This is the same as when a child eats candy. He prefers the sugar-coated sweet taste. The adults tell him that if he eats too much, he will get tooth decay. The child will not listen to the persuasion, but he still eats it. Little do he know that the tooth decay is connected to the nerves, and when it occurs, he will have a headache. tearing.

But sugar is delicious.The child said while clutching his cheek.

I also want to survive.He said in his heart.He also wanted to hold his boyfriend's hand, stroke that black hair, kiss that lip, hug that body.

The incandescent lamp was vibrating, and the sound of electric current was mixed in, like flies and mosquitoes buzzing in my ears non-stop.

Anesthetics and the like should not be of much use to him. When he was young, he was afraid of pain and always looked for painkillers. Over time, he became more or less resistant to such drugs.

Reed opened his eyes in a trance, everything in his vision was blurred, with a bit of dizziness, and white spots of light flooded into his retinas.

It seemed that the dose of the drug he had taken was really large, so much that there was still a strong urge to nausea in his throat and chest.He squinted his eyes, trying to see the scene in front of him clearly, recalling in his mind how he ended up in this situation.

It seems to be Japanese cuisine... There are sushi and ramen. The old man sitting opposite took off his thin-rimmed glasses and put them aside. His eyes were full of chaos, and his movements were delicate but slow.

His name is... Wadsworth Fergus, he used to be a technical consultant for Atack Industries, and now he is said to have resigned... Reid sensed that someone was approaching him, cold The metal slides across his chest, the feel of rubber gloves.

...Ah, that's right... Reed suddenly remembered why he felt disobedient at that time, the effect of the drug was fading rapidly, and a stream of formalin poured into his nasal cavity smell, but his body still has no strength, it seems to be restrained, and his arms can't move.

When he was saving people, he covered his face with magic. Even if other people saw his appearance, they would only remember his face as an ordinary passerby under the influence of the magic. forgotten.How did Fergus recognize himself so suddenly?

The moment the tip of the knife sank into his chest, his eyes widened suddenly, and even the misty fog in front of him receded. Reed heard himself breathing loudly, and the tip of the knife pierced through his heart. He couldn't hold back the sharp pain in his skin, and let out a low swallow in his throat.

"Oh, the anesthetic has expired?" The old man stopped what he was doing, looked at him closely, and opened his eyes to observe the dilation of the pupils.

Reed gasped for breath, the blood that flowed from the cut was much hotter than his body surface, warmly slid down from his chest, gathered in the depression above the collarbone, and formed a small puddle bloody.

"Ho, ho...haha," Reed, who finally saw the appearance of this person clearly, almost laughed angrily, but the person in front of him had to put on a loving expression, which made Reed recall his own at a glance. A disgusting cheap father suddenly felt the urge to vomit even more, "Are you coveting this stone too?"

"Young man, it's too ugly to say 'covet'," the old man picked up the scalpel again after seeing that there was nothing unusual about him, and the metal tip lightly touched the piece buried under the scratched skin. On the crimson gem, "Isn't it in my hand now?"

Reed closed his eyes, maybe he was injected with drugs in advance, or maybe other rays were mixed in the shadowless lamp. His body's recovery ability and magic operation were completely restrained, and the magic circuit completely stopped. It was getting slower and slower, and the blood gushing from the wound didn't stop.

"Don't worry, I don't intend to let you die yet," Fergus bent down and looked at the Philosopher's Stone carefully. "Your body has other uses."

He picked up a piece of equipment that he didn't know what it was. The blade was sharp, and there were brackets on both sides to support the wound. In a few seconds, he scraped off a thin piece of fingernail from the Philosopher's Stone. The size of the crystal, the tone said lightly: "Someone is very interested in your so-called 'magic'."

"Who the hell are you...?"

"It's just a geneticist." Fergus neatly put a small piece of crystal in his hand into the analysis instrument, and the machine started to work. He walked to Reed's side again, lowered his head and picked up the cotton ball with tweezers, Started to help him deal with the wound on his upper body, "Oh, what you are curious about is why I know these things?"

The cotton soaked all over his body a few times before it was full of blood, and Fergus stuffed it into a transparent glass jar. He pulled off the medical rubber gloves, "Because I'm actually a mutant."

"As long as there is skin cell contact, I can see anyone's past." His old wrinkled hands rested lightly on Reed's skin, and he smiled, as if looking down on the cage. The expression of the experimental mouse, "Continuously reading other people's past is a very boring thing, but sometimes this ability is very useful... Guess what I see now?"

"..." The old man's hand gradually tightened, pinching Reed's shoulder as if to make a deep impression.

"Last time I saw the clip of your mother using magic to heal your wounds. It's so good, those inhuman powers... If my child had met people like you before she was injured, she would be Won't you die too?"

Reed coughed heavily, breathing in his throat like an old organ. He closed his eyes tightly, not wanting to see this man rambling in front of him.

"...Your father's beating looks really scary, why don't you run away, alas." Fergus continued, as if immersed in the past of Reed's childhood.

"Have you said enough?" Reed frowned. It was really uncomfortable to be seen naked like this, and to judge others at will. While the brain was dizzy, a fire burst from his chest, and he almost vomited. Come out with a mouthful of blood.

"You can't take it anymore?" The old man gave him a strange look, and withdrew his hand, "We will study your 'magic circuits' later, and we will tear apart all your memories bit by bit and read them carefully. .”

He rubbed the medicine on Reed, and wrapped the white cotton gauze on Reed's wound, "That's a big project."

Who exactly are 'we'?

Reed tried to turn his stiff neck, surrounded by pale lights, making him feel sore and without any strength.

This is a laboratory-like place, surrounded by some large and small unknown instruments, and there are many formalin liquid tanks behind it, and it is unknown what is soaked in it.

Fergus walked out quickly. The instrument with the Philosopher's Stone was still working, and he didn't know when he would be able to make a report.After about three or four minutes, several expressionless men and women in white coats came in, pulled him up from the operating table, put a white coat on him, and moved him to another place .

While staggering, Reid saw clearly the name tag hanging on the chest of the other party, with his name and position written on it, and a line of small red words "Fergus Studio" underneath, and the most conspicuous thing was the corner of the name tag. The corporate LOGO - LexCorp.

This is Lex Luthor's territory.

That person interested in 'magic' is also most likely Lex Luthor.