The end game [Zhongyingmei]

"Where's my pie?" Abaddon asked with a smile.

The man as handsome as the green pine in the mist bent down, and slowly and mercilessly rubbed Sisley's face. Sisley whimpered from being rubbed, and did not stop until Abaddon thought that she had "enough self-criticism".

When he stood up, Sisley sat obediently where she was, and smiled guiltily.

Mephisto has a share, Ken has a share, the whole world has a share, and only Abaddon wants to share her share with Sisley.

It's not 01:30, it's like a small wild flower on the roadside that doesn't deserve a name.

The monarch of hell picked up a piece of pastry from the plate, put it in his mouth, and bit it lightly. Layers of puff pastry and syrup were layered, sweet and sour and delicious. Sisley baked it to the back, and it was getting better and better every time.

In order to avoid waste, he hugged Sisley on his knees, and the two shared their tastes while eating. Sure enough, the threshold of happiness doubled.

Apple pie was eaten, Ken stayed in the room, Abaddon returned to New Haven, Bruce continued to work in the study, and Alfred was also cleaning the corners of the hall.

She was carried to the bathroom by Ken, and after washing up, the two Sisleys, who were warm and fragrant, got back into the bed and slept head to head.

But Sisley always felt that she had forgotten something—she wanted to remember it, but Nai He couldn't remember it at all.

Mephisto yawned calmly in the small dark room.

The voices of the guards ripped through the silent air of the night, the sound of footsteps stopping outside her room, the sound of locks being opened, the sound of human breathing, the sound of chains.

A long-lost light leaked out as the door was pushed open, and the guards secretly observed her reaction, while Mephisto opened his eyes and gave them a cold look.

"Okay, okay..." The captain of the guard stood in front vigilantly, pulling her by the chain of the handcuffs to get her up.Mephisto silently followed his movements. She was taller than most men, and her scarlet and pitch-black eyes rolled slightly. When she looked at the guards, no one knew what this evil monster was thinking.

Even the nano-bomb on her neck still glows with green light.

When she returned to the cell, the clown was already opposite her.

He lay there watching with fascination as they repeated the act of dumping him, putting Mephisto back in her own cell, and even "upgrading" Mephisto's treatment again.

For a split second, the Joker is sure he sees anger in the eyes of the red ribbon.

It took three intensive patrols back and forth for the guards to return to their usual schedule. During this time, the red ribbon was lying on the concrete floor, not knowing what to think.

The fury of a human raced through the monster's heart; the clown couldn't help but curl up his mouth at the thought, and let out a vague laugh from his throat.

Mephisto: (after connecting with Abaddon)!

Mephisto: ...

Mephisto: Where's my apple pie? (furious)

Mephisto was angry, and Mephisto shut himself up.

"Hey, little beauty!" The clown shouted at her while grabbing the railing of his cell, "Is my blood delicious?"

Mephisto didn't even move a finger.

"Don't be angry, little beauty." The clown continued to say with a playful smile, "Who are you waiting for?"

Red Ribbon reacted this time, standing up, looking straight in his direction, and licking her lips creepily.

The clown felt a tremor hit his back, and he couldn't help but let out a low hum in excitement; he didn't care about the great achievements made by the red ribbon on him, he rubbed the remaining bandage on the wound, and asked in a low voice.

"Work with me? Little beauty, the two of us, plus lots and lots of fun."

Although Mephisto didn't know what he had imagined, it didn't stop her from wanting to drink his blood, and it didn't stop her from looking for Sisley's information when the clown escaped from prison.

She watched intently as the clown scratched the wound under the bandage little by little, and the dark red blood trickled down his wrist, like a sweet and fertile river.

From the perspective of the clown, the eyes of the red ribbon are moving with his movements, like a cat attracted by a laser pointer; however, outside of this temporarily well-behaved appearance, the only thing she wants to do is to bite through his aorta.

It was the first time in Gotham City that someone like her wanted to kill him not for their so-called justice, hatred or various emotions, but because of him.

It was a really novel and wonderful experience.

"I'll take it as if you agreed." The clown tried hard to suppress his laughter, and he coaxed her with the appearance of a professional animal trainer.

"Come here, little beauty, do you want to have a bite?"

Mephisto: Although I don't understand why someone would take the initiative to make such a request, but don't refuse it for nothing.

With a "crash", the scarlet figure smashed through the glass, railings, and concrete walls at a speed that the clown could hardly observe, and forcibly tore a bloody path with ribbons.

The siren was screaming harshly, the guards were cursing and running, and they rushed upstairs from downstairs. The clown was hung up by Mephisto again, wrapped in ribbons to become a mummy, and sucked several times with concentration .

I haven't seen each other for twelve hours, and the venom flowing in the clown's blood is much sweeter than before. It has become a new and enhanced version 2.0, which Mephisto likes very much.

Before the guards arrived, she took one last deep suck and let go of the shocked clown contentedly.

In the Batcave, Bruce's face was also ugly.

He brushed off the half-removed bandage on his thigh, turned to stare at the display screen, and slowed down the movement of the red ribbon frame by frame, using the model to analyze her data as much as possible.

She always easily breaks the limit of the supercomputer's previous calculation, and then the next time the cycle repeats.

"To be fair, it was indeed the clown who provoked her first." Alfred said softly, clicking on the clown who was mummified and lost its human form within a few seconds.

"I don't understand why she's still in Arkham." Bruce rewatched the movement of the red ribbon tearing apart the concrete wall, and rubbed between his brows wearily.

With her strength, she could easily break free from the handcuffs, hang up a group of guards and suck them into mummified corpses, then wash the entire Arkham land with blood, release the devils from the isolation zone, and drive them to the world.However, she chose to be obedient - Bruce had to use this word - and was escorted into the small dark room.

It would be better to convince Batman that she is lawful good than to convince him that the sun revolves around the earth.

"What is she plotting?" Bruce concluded.

"Maybe a clown."

Alfred reminded him, "In these few days in Arkham, she only sucked blood from clowns."

"If she's smelling scum, there's really no one in Gotham better than the Joker."

Bruce snorted, called out the analyzed model, and zoomed in on the screen.

The dense data crawled all over the screen, and he carefully read the keywords, saving some from time to time.There's a suit of armor—maybe there's one to balance her—

"Have you figured out how to tell Miss Sisley?" The old butler suddenly asked, interrupting Batman's churning thoughts and making Batman involuntarily recall the dinner that terrified him.

Sisley was so soft and delicate, the red ribbon could snap her neck in one snap, and Tim wouldn't be able to stop it.

Even now, while Red Ribbon is tearing up electric railings and sucking clowns into actual mummies, his youngest daughter is still foolish enough to bake apple pie for monsters in Arkham.

Also, they are too close.

Like Ken, Sisley has no idea what the boundaries of "friendship" are.She was held hands ignorantly, arranged to sit, fed, and even "taught" by the red ribbon, thinking that the red ribbon was just her friend.

The red ribbon stole the flowers in full bloom in the garden, and pinned it to her chest as if showing off.

The old father's rage flooded the Batcave.

Abaddon looked at the message "I'm going back to the little black room" sent by Mephisto, Ruoyou smiled, took back the phone, pushed the door and left.

He changed his clothes and put away the horns on his head at the same time; the handsome and beautiful black-haired young man strolled through the library where there were few people in the early morning. Melancholy pursed thin lips.

The students looked at him completely dumbfounded, and at the same time desperately recalled his name, trying to figure out why they didn't remember that there was such a beauty in the university.

However, the more they thought about it, the more they felt that their memories were blurred, but the name of Abaddon Handwood became clearer and clearer in their minds, and it became the only evidence they remembered.

——Abadon is indeed a new student here, he just lives in seclusion and rarely shows up.

They thought exactly the same, while staring blankly at the back of him pushing open the library door, watching how the collar of his shirt was blown by the wind, and even jealous of the wind that was too lucky there.

Abaddon strolled on the cobblestone road covered with fiery red maple leaves on the campus, and ran his hand through his pocket for his legal credentials.What the Lord of Hell wants, time and space will change, and before long, everyone will realize that he is Abaddon, Abaddon Handwood, a new student.

Identity is really a very strange thing, with his freshman status, he has obtained the qualification to step into this land and campus, it can be logical——

Find the smell of evil that is vaguely in the air.

Maple leaves creaked under his feet, and Abaddon seemed to be walking casually in the early morning campus, but he was actually identifying the source and concentration of evil.He walked past the fountain, the lawn, the square, and the grove, and started walking toward a small building behind the main school building.

The stench of evil is thick and unpleasant here.

Standing in the gloomy and bright sky, the small building looks clean and tidy.

Abaddon sighed softly, went to the porch, and rang the doorbell.The signboard of the school hospital formed a fine layer of water droplets in the early morning mist. He didn't reach out to wipe it off, but lowered his eyes, making a melancholy gesture as if nothing had happened.

"Come in, the door is unlocked." A man's voice came from the door.

The Lord of Hell pushed open the door and walked in.The consulting room was also clean. A man in a decent suit sat behind his desk, showing a concerned smile at Abaddon.

"I'm Dr. Lecter," the man introduced himself. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

At this moment, the stench of evil erupted across the board.

Abaddon stood where he was, but he could hear the ghost screaming behind Dr. Lecter. A steady stream of black air emerged from his body, from this consulting room, and from outside the small building, and drifted into the air, condensing itself into surveillance and evil. s eyes.

And Abaddon would never let that happen.

"Hi, doctor."

The black-haired young man raised his eyes, revealing a melancholy and helpless look, like a green pine surrounded by thick fog in the mountains and forests.

Hannibal Lecter leaned forward and heard the strange visitor whisper.

"I had a nightmare."