[ QT ] Heal The Demon

- 18 -

Jin Zhao's knuckles moved stiffly. His life was full of killing and doubt. He had never actively trusted anyone. But now... this person in front of you……

He slowly stretched out his hand. The scars on his hands have disappeared completely, and only faint traces and pale knuckles remind the owner of this hand of his bad luck.

Rong Wan didn't hesitate, and went straight to take his hand, gently pressed it on the spiritual power ball, and said, “Close your eyes. ”

Mental power poured into Jin Zhao's body that had lacked mental power for a long time, and had long been like a dry exhaust fan.

Now Zhao was extremely stiff, but his attention was not on it at all. After closing his eyes, all his senses became sharp, and he clearly sensed the temperature and context of the palm of the general's hand that was attached to the back of his cold hand.

——The admiral held his hand again.

In this way, I don't dislike it at all. He trembled slightly, and through the warm skin, he could clearly hear the blood flowing from the palm of the general's hand.

The heat was so hot that it could melt everything. That feeling made him addicted in an instant, and a crazy desire suddenly surged in his heart.

Jin Zhao suddenly opened his eyes, but the general hadn't opened his eyes yet. He stared at the general's face, his gaze covetously and morbidly sketched the outline of the opponent.

——It would be great if it could be possessed.

——It would be great if you could keep possession.

**

Rong Wan could feel that after replenishing some mental power, the source of mental power in the protagonist's body suddenly grew frantically like weeds rooted in a desolate place when they encountered spring rains.

Originally, the protagonist was the most tenacious person in the world.

He only needed to pry up a little brick that was pressed on his head and made him breathless, and he would become stronger and stronger.

Before he gets the energy source, perhaps he will be able to restore the previous state that no one can stop.

With the mental power of Nagisa Jing's body, when he saw the protagonist covered in scars for the first time, he could suppress the protagonist.

But after the protagonist had inhaled two mental power balls, Rong Wan felt that his crazy mental power was about to be the same as that of Zhu Jing.

—— This is by no means all the credit of the spiritual power ball, but he himself has the power to resist fate most tenaciously.

After reading his seven million words of suffering, I have seen him struggle and hate, but I have never seen him give up or succumb to fate.

Seeing the paleness on the protagonist's face obviously faded a lot, Rong Wan suddenly felt a little proud of his protagonist in his heart.

He let go of his hand, handed the box of mental power balls and drawings to the protagonist, and said lightly:

"In the future, all cleaning will be completed after I leave the mansion. When I am in the mansion, you will come to my room to copy. ”

Jin Zhao was taken aback and nodded.

——In this way, you can often go in and out of the general's room.

“That's it for today, you can go out. "After drinking the coffee from the cup, he put it on the table, then walked to the window, picked up the watering bucket, and took care of the flowers with his own hands.

After all, after being in this world for so long, in addition to contacting the protagonist and finding a way to complete the task, he was so bored that he could only raise flowers and grass.

Jin Zhao stood behind him for a long time, and his gaze fell on the cup on the table.

His throat moved, and he picked up the cup miraculously.

Closing the door, Jin Zhao stood in the hallway, rubbing his fingers unconsciously against the traces of being kissed by the general on the cup.

The faint water stains on it stained his thumb and quickly disappeared.

His fingers were burning hot. A trace of longing also appeared on his pale and gloomy face.

At this moment, he finally knew his desires very well. He wanted to catch that person tightly, as if he had grabbed the last straw.

It's okay to be a slave, a weapon, or to drive away the people around him like smelly flies. He will use all means.

**

In the next few days, in order to allow the protagonist to concentrate on absorbing mental power, Rong Wan tried his best to push away those annoying military affairs and stay in the mansion.

But I don't know if it was his illusion. The number of times the protagonist appeared in front of him has increased significantly, far more than the previous half a month combined.

And uncharacteristically, when the protagonist was just brought back by him, let alone looking at him, even if he occasionally encountered him, it would be mixed with all kinds of hatred and gloom, and now

—— Early morning.

Rong Wan is a person who is used to sleeping late, especially when he was in another world.

But Jing in this world is obviously not. This body woke up when it was still dawn, and he hadn't woken up before he sat up on the bed, still at a loss.

The door was knocked lightly three times, and Rong Wan subconsciously said, "Come in. ”

He watched with bleary eyes as the protagonist walked in with an iron, took out a few sets of uniforms from the closet and started ironing.

The steam slowly rose. The technique was not very familiar, and it was even a little stiff, but it was quickly ironed.

Finished. Immediately, the protagonist took the uniform and military boots he would wear on weekdays, and knelt down on one knee by the bed.

Rong Wan hasn't realized what the protagonist is going to do—

The protagonist began to hold up his hand and put on his uniform, followed by pants and shoes.

When he reacted unknowingly, the protagonist was putting on boots for him, and his right foot was resting on the protagonist's knee, while the protagonist lowered his head.

From his perspective, he could only see the protagonist's dark eyebrows and the silver mask, but he couldn't see the protagonist's expression. After a while, he woke up, he:? ？ ？

Rong Wan didn't dare to retract his feet, because the protagonist's strength to clasp his ankle was neither light nor heavy, his mind was blank, and he hurriedly contacted the system:

“What is the protagonist doing? Does the brain suddenly break down after taking too much mental energy? Isn't this what a slave would do? Doesn't he hate being treated as a slave the most? Also, haven't I already found the heroine for him? ！ ”

The system stopped talking: “...”