The Poor Baby's Manipulation Manual [Quick Wear]

12.10 - Tortured, Tortured, Tortured

　　The man was finally dragged back. He was covered in mud and his eyes were as heavy as stagnant water. However, his gaze always fell on the car surrounded by flames.

　　"Mr. He, are you okay..."

　　The driver gathered around him to inquire about his welfare.

　　There are no human traces around here, just long roads.

　　One after another, cars came one after another.

　　The fire brigade extinguished the fire in the car, revealing the body trapped in the seat, which had long been reduced to black charcoal.

　　He Qing looked at the corpse intently, his eyes were red, he covered his heart, and walked over regardless of others' obstruction.

　　"Mr. He..."

　　The people around him were calling him worriedly, but the man couldn't hear them anymore.

　　He looked at the unrecognizable Yan Rong inside, covered his heart, and fell down.

　　"Mr. He!"

　　"Quick! Doctor!"

　　A group of people are busy taking care of their food, clothing, and parents. The ghost is transparent. People pass by him one after another, and no one can see him.

　　They moved He Qing away in a panic, leaving only the ghost standing alone.

　　He stretched out his hand. Just now, he wanted to support the fallen man, but his pale and transparent hand passed through the man's body.

　　Ghost, can't touch He Qing.

　　He wanted to follow him, but after taking a few steps, he seemed to be blocked by an invisible barrier. He could only watch helplessly as those people walked further and further away, taking He Qing with him who was out of reach.

　　The ghost scratched and roared anxiously, but no one could hear it or see it.

　　It's like being abandoned by the world, and no one knows it exists anymore.

　　He could only sit on his body and watch himself and He Qing drift away.

　　Yan Rong was sent to the morgue.

　　The ghost sat nearby, looking at himself on the white cloth.

　　The charred layer outside was roughly thrown in by those who transported the corpse, and the charred layer fell off, revealing the red flesh.

　　very disgusting.

　　The eldest young master, Yan Rong, had never seen such a scene even when he was in the most difficult time as a child, but unfortunately, this disgusting corpse was his own.

　　He sat beside him blankly, as if a lot of things were flashing through his mind, and yet it seemed as if nothing was at all.

　　Some people came and went, but no one could see him. He had no thoughts or thoughts, and only the coldness of the morgue accompanied him.

　　Cold, too cold.

　　His mind was spinning slowly, and in the end, there was no movement at all.

　　It had no thought, and its face was completely blank, but its eyes were open, as if it wanted to record everything it saw.

　　In the cold room, the ghost sat on the bed, watching a door being opened, and a pale man walked in slowly. There was a person following him, pointing at the charred corpse, and said, "Mr. He, This is Yan Rong."