deformed bone

"I'm not as afraid of 'Red Deer' as you are, Fogg, you always take him too seriously, maybe your sissy made you too timid."

After hearing that name, Virgili muttered with a sneer at the corner of his mouth.

While speaking, however, his actions became a little more restrained. He put his finger in front of his nose and took a deep breath, then used that finger to run through his hair.

"Oh, man, you better stop, Virgili—what you were thinking just made me sick."

The muscles at the corners of his mouth suddenly twitched, and the previous indifferent voice sounded again, as if someone was speaking through Virgil's tongue, this time the voice was full of strong disgust.

Virgili giggled, and he looked in the rearview mirror of the car, where his eyes were reflected.

Those were a pair of eyes with unusually pale pupils, and the restlessness caused Virgili's original mint green pupils to turn into a deep blue-green, like the color of the scales of some poisonous snake under the moonlight.

Those were the eyes of "Fogg"—another resident in this body—or another personality.

"Feel sorry."

Virgili said to the somewhat oversensitive and fragile soul in his body, and there was no sincerity in his tone.

"This kind of thing is always difficult to control, just like when you are playing with your dear corpses, that feeling will just 'spray' out like that, making your nerves tremble and your body tremble...not to mention knowing that you were killed by him It feels really good to be held in my arms.”

He added.

"Please don't use that kind of ambiguous sentence to describe me." Fogg said grimly, "I'm just an ordinary doctor...maybe I have a little interest in the mysteries of the human body. That's my love for science , not your morbid abnormal love. Finally, I would like to give you a piece of advice. You'd better restrain your perverted and obscene thoughts—as long as there is even the slightest leak, your disguise will be torn. Calvin It is absolutely impossible for a guy like you to get close to him with his mental state."

Fuge said coldly.

Vigily's shoulders drooped slightly, and he suddenly broke away from the previous frantic and excited state, showing a depressed state like a dog that has been stepped on.

"Of course I know that." He sighed a long time. "Imagine him as a unicorn—and unicorns are only as close as innocent little things."

Virgil held his face in his hands, curled up his knees and curled up on the seat.

"...Like the little idiot I pretended to be."

he sighed.

Fogg was about to explode inside him, and he protested again.

"You're enjoying it, man, I don't think you need to put on that face in front of me—like I don't know what you're thinking."

Virgil's shoulders shrugged, and he giggled behind his palm, and after a while, he moved his palm away from his cheek, obviously a few minutes ago he showed a change of mood. He was depressed, but now his face was filled with that almost evil smile again.

"Oh, Fogg, sometimes you are so unlovable. But I admit, you are right, in fact, I just mean to have fun--who wants me to be a professional liar." The mirror muttered.

After a short silence, Fogg screamed in a low voice, holding his throat.

"God, your thoughts are disgusting!"

Vigily shrugged his shoulders, and suddenly said without beginning or end.

"I just wanted to fuck him. In fact, I wanted to fuck him like crazy."

The professional hustler with mint eyes repeated, licking his lips, his eyes hollowed out.

"You'd better not go crazy at this time."

There was some vigilance in Fogg's voice.

"boom--"

At this moment, there was a clear knocking sound outside the car window.

Virgil's pupils shrank to a very small point.

Pressing the button on the door, the dark glass window slowly slid down.

A face full of violence appeared outside the car window.

"Hey man, you're blocking the door to our shop."

It was a young black male with a bald head and a row of tiny golden rings on his browbones—a standard low-class thug.

Virgil turned his head slowly, then looked at him.

"Oh, sorry."

he said hoarsely.

"I'll take the car away later."

Virgil didn't seem to see the figures that gradually emerged from the darkness like ghosts. Those muscular men wearing baseball caps slowly gathered beside Virgil's car.

"laugh--"

The thug who knocked on the window first spat.

He looked greedily at Virgili—that innocent, forest-fawn face, and this limousine of his.

He curled his fingers, and the huge metal ring on his knuckles lightly scratched the old-fashioned paint surface of Rolls-Royce.

"You're affecting our business, baby, do you think it's enough to drive away like this?"

Virgil blinked.He tilted his head and glanced at Big Finger's so-called "store door" - this was actually the back door of a pub, and judging from the quietness of the environment, it was obvious that it hadn't opened yet.

This group of idle thugs just "just happened" to pass by here, and "just happened" to see this luxury car that had broken into this block by mistake.They've checked the car's license plate and are pretty sure it doesn't belong to the red-bearded guest.To top it all off, one of them had been at the Cross before, and he'd seen Mr. Canapes's "deliciousness" with his own eyes.

Just like Calvin was worried about before, Virgil, or the naive young man that Virgil pretended to be, is simply an extraordinarily wonderful extra meal for the permanent residents of this area.

Virgil put his hands on his knees, and he looked at his fingers.

His fingers were shaking.

The voice of the young liar gradually became disembodied.

"I wish I could calm down, too. You know, I want to do something, but I'm not good at patience."

"Hey baby, what are you talking about?"

The thug turned his head to the side, and he didn't hear Virgili's muttering clearly. In his opinion, this frail young man seemed more insane—he was talking to himself, and at the same time, his left hand suddenly moved and grabbed right wrist.

"You should be aware that my new potion hasn't arrived yet? I'm really not sure my stock will be able to melt this much meat - if the sewers get clogged, you'll be responsible for cleaning up the scene."

The muscular thug frowned. He looked at Virgil in the car window with disgust. The series of British accents in the latter's mouth took him a while to understand what the other party was talking about, but even if he understood the literal meaning, This unintelligible statement still makes people feel unintelligible.

This made the thug man feel an inexplicable dissatisfaction that was close to humiliation. He pretended that he really understood the pretentious "provocation", and then he put his hand into the car window and grabbed Wei Lucky collar.

"...I really can't bear to see the next scene. I'll come out after you're done. By the way, please be restrained. I really don't have enough medicine."

The thugs heard Vigili continue to speak in that queer British accent.

"Hey, are you out of your mind?!"

He yelled rudely at Virgil, forcing him to face him.

Then, he saw a pair of unusually bright pale green pupils.

Virgil smiled sweetly at the man and his companions behind him.

……

……

At the same time, at the bar of the Cross Bar, Calvin suddenly shivered uncontrollably, and because of this, he accidentally poured half a cup of peppermint syrup into the goblet in his hand.

"Damn."

Calvin cursed under his breath, then changed to a new wine glass.But when he reached for the syrup again, someone held him down.

"You're a little absent-minded today."

The bartender looked at the young man beside him with some concern.

"Perhaps you can go and rest for a while."

He said.

"Well, sorry."

Calvin rubbed his temples.

"...It's just that there have been a lot of things recently."

The bartender sighed, and he patted Calvin on the shoulder.

"I understand. Funerals are always exhausting, aren't they? Dr. Holden was a good man and I'm sure many will miss him."

Calvin's mouth curled into a weary arc.

"Thank you."

he said dryly.

The number of guests in the bar is increasing, harsh music hits heavily on people's eardrums, the smell of alcohol floats in the dark air together with human voices, the whole bar is like a blurred canvas to Calvin, there is a kind of A sense of unreality.

Sometimes he even has illusions, wondering if he is in a long sleep.However, after mentioning the name of the kind old man who brought him a second life, Calvin suddenly felt the wound on his back begin to ache after a long absence.

The sharp pain sent goosebumps up his back.