Quick Wear: Driving Gods in a Dark Fairy Tale

Bai Jun was thinking and ready to move, as if he was going to stab himself through in the next moment.

tick, tick-

The sticky, crimson blood beads fell like raindrops, quickly leaving several blood spots of varying sizes on the hem of the skirt.

Baijun touched his nose and as expected, he felt a sticky scarlet substance.

Okay, I won’t vomit blood this time, but I’ll have a nosebleed instead.

After calculating the consequences and time of the backlash and concluding that even if he stabbed himself to death now, he would not suffer much less, Bai Jun decisively threw away the dagger and took out a trash can and ten packs of tissues from the system warehouse.

The familiar dizziness returned after he failed to suppress it, and blood gushed out of his nasal cavity like a faucet that had been opened.

Bai Jun lowered his head and supported himself on the table with both hands, with almost half of his body leaning over the trash can. Blood dripped down his nasal cavity and hit the plastic wall at the bottom of the trash can, making a clear dripping sound.

As the blood continued to flow out, Bai Jun belatedly felt the numbness in his limbs caused by hypothermia. When he was using one hand to wipe the blood with tissue paper, he almost stumbled and fell into the trash can.

But compared with other side effects, this is really insignificant.

Bai Jun wondered how it could have become so embarrassing.

He thought of a culprit.

So I laughed.

What I just said to Ming Lai was most likely false. The backlash effect would certainly not be as simple as spitting out some blood, and it would not recover so quickly.

But it's not entirely false.

At least, Baijun really won't swallow his anger and swallow his anger.

If he got hurt a little, he would lie in bed and act like he was dying - after all, only by showing his pain and suffering could he win people's sympathy and be used. If he covered up everything and concealed everything, he would be the only one to suffer, and after a while, he would be considered to have deserved it.

Let alone now.

Bai Jun took such great pains to hide his current poor condition, of course, not because he sympathized with them or did not want to trouble everyone.

It's just that some situations are a little tricky right now.

Bai Jun didn't want to have nothing to do during such a troubled time and add more trouble to himself, otherwise he wouldn't have endured it for so long. He would have fainted in front of those people and enjoyed the treatment of a patient in peace.

But at this moment, Baijun still didn't want to let someone have an easy time.

He has always been like this. If he feels bad, he will make others feel even worse. If he himself is not having a good time, then no one else should have a good time.

Just like now, Bai Jun took off the red thread wrapped around his wrist bone, stuck it close to his heart, and whispered:

"It hurts, Filga."

In stark contrast to those words that sounded like a spoiled child or a complaint was Bai Jun's unusually calm face.

He clutched the fabric around his heart, arched his brows, and whispered softly, "It hurts so much."

The red line on the fingertips trembled violently, Bai Jun raised the corners of his lips, and the arc of his eyebrows became deeper, showing great pleasure.

He said, “But I don’t want to see you.”

"I feel so bad, my whole body hurts."

"because of you."

Bai Jun said word by word: "All my current suffering is due to you."

"That's why I don't want to see you."

"I don't want to see you until the effect of my skill ends."

"Love can bring joy and happiness to people, but Filga, I don't want you to be happy. I just want every bit of your love for me to become a shackle of pain for you."

“It hurts whenever I think of me.”

"You owe me this, you deserve it."