Ming Ke: Everyone at the same time thought I was a poor little thing

Stout almost took a step back, feeling terrified, as if he was walking on the road and was about to ask a passerby about the weather, but the passerby turned around and turned into a scary witch.

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He took a long time to come back to his senses, and then he found that the shallow breathing sound just now had disappeared again! The white cloth was also motionless!

Stout: Oxygen, oxygen.jpg

Suddenly, the cold morgue felt eerie.

His eyes were numb and exhausted. He was silent for a long time, forcing himself to smile kindly. He said with a slightly depressed tone, "Sir, are you dying again and again, or are you unwilling to die?"

The morgue was silent, without any response, making it seem like he, the man talking to the corpse, was particularly insane.

Stout stepped forward with difficulty and suddenly pulled away the white cloth covering the young man.

Under the cold white light, the blond young man lay there quietly as before, even the curve of his lips looked extremely peaceful.

Stout: ...Ah!

I swear to God, this guy definitely didn't laugh just now!

He reached out and grabbed the 'corpse''s' neck in response, feeling a cold and soft touch in his hand. The young man's carotid artery was pressed against his thumb, but there was no movement at all.

This is a dead person without breathing or heartbeat, but without the stiffness of a dead person.

The British gentleman's expression turned pale. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, revealing a very forced and stiff smile. He politely greeted, "Sir, you slept for a long time. Do you want me to turn up the temperature?"

The shallow breathing appeared again, and the blond young man on the morgue bed suddenly opened his eyes.

It is fresh, smart and full of vitality.

The British gentleman screamed like a JK in his heart.

——Aren’t you dead?

Could it be the devil?

When the blond youth looked at him with his eyes bent, he said weakly, "Do you need a fresh soul?"

After being sent to the hospital for gastric lavage by Gin, Fūya Rei, who had sneaked out to wait for an opportunity, turned his head to look at Stout. He caught a glimpse of the man's clenched fist on his left side from the corner of his eye, and his eyelids twitched.

It hurts so much, it hurts just looking at it.

Look at the man's strong arms again. It must be extremely painful to hit someone with them. Just looking at it makes me feel like my bones and the bed are being torn into pieces.

Scare people is not good civilization. He is just a weak, helpless and unfree patient who is waiting here for instructions from the code members according to the orders of the higher-ups.

He shouldn't have to endure so much.

Fūya Rei maintained the posture of having his fate strangled by the throat, tilted his head slightly, and blinked his purple-gray eyes. Because he had just undergone an uncomfortable gastric lavage, he looked even more sickly and pitiful when showing weakness.

He asked innocently and harmlessly, "I'm sorry, did I scare you?"

Stout calmly withdrew his hand and said frankly, "A little bit. But compared to that, I'd rather know why you're lying here."

And, confirm the scientific nature of your race and the world.

Fūya Rei sat up with difficulty, with the tape from the infusion still on the back of his hand.

He covered his mouth with his hands and coughed a few times uncomfortably, his voice weak and hoarse. He tugged at the white cloth, his body shivering, but still felt freezing cold.

He huddled on the white morgue bed, hugging his knees. His pale, bloodless lips opened and closed as he murmured softly, "It's cold, so cold."

He looked at Stout with clean and innocent eyes, and said with a gentle and respectful tone: "I am waiting for Master Stout."

This code name was like a secret code, giving Stout an unprecedented sense of security.

It turned out to be one of our own.

He almost cried tears of joy without any composure.

I hope it’s not the devil.

Then, Stout came to his senses and realized that the only person who could appear at this time and place was the canary.

He didn't blame the young man for his prank. Instead, he wore an elegant and polite smile, and the calmness of a British man was fully reflected at this moment. "It seems that Mr. Amuro had a lot of fun. However, I think you may need a midnight snack to replenish your energy."

He glanced at the young man's thin body and pale lips, and said disapprovingly: "It's too late to put it in the refrigerator this season, sir. I hope you don't waste all the hard work you put into growing—"

Looking at the blond youth's childish face, he thought with difficulty, Canary should be an adult now, right?

There are a lot of scum in the organization, but they have no bottom line when they attack minors.

There shouldn't be such a person.

While thinking, he suggested with an extremely gentle expression: "Don't let down the body you have worked so hard to grow for twenty years."

The man's unconventional behavior left Fūya Ling stunned.

"Your Excellency is truly interesting." He raised his lips slightly and said enthusiastically, "Thank you for your reminder, but I didn't freeze myself on purpose. I was immersing myself in the feeling of death."

He held his breath for a long time, and even controlled his heart to stop beating, but he still didn't die. It was obvious that his body was not healthy at the moment.

He happily moved to the side, patted the empty seat hospitably and invited, "Want to join us?"

The English gentleman looked down at him, feeling oddly oppressive.

In a gentle voice, with a unique sense of humor, he said, "Death is a lonely thing. I guess two people would be a bit crowded, so sir, please allow me to refuse."

After a pause, he looked at Furuya Rei with a mischievous look, pretending to sigh and changing the subject: "I didn't expect you would make such a great sacrifice to come to the morgue in person just to uncover the mystery of death. Your academic rigor is admirable."

Jiangu Ling: Huh?

No, I didn't. I just thought it was fun.

He opened his mouth but didn't dare to retort. What if Stout, who had been frightened earlier, suddenly wanted to take revenge on him?

Stout had no such violent thoughts at all. He looked at the time and it was already past three o'clock.

The young man on the morgue bed had a fight between his eyelids. In the pale space, he was the only bright color. However, the weakness and softness between his brows made him look as if he was being assimilated by this space.

He had no idea that he was like a slowly fading flower, heading towards an irreversible withered future.

Stout frowned obscurely, and his impression of some scum in the organization fell to the bottom.

Specifically refers to Bourbon, who has a dark mind and is determined to drag Pure White into darkness.

He thought it was time to make a plan to capture Bourbon.

Stout asked in a friendly manner, "Sir, what are your plans now?"

"I'm not well yet." Fūya Rei covered his eyes with his arms and said pitifully, "I want to go back to the ward."

He quietly poked his head out, a little shy, and asked uncertainly: "But I have helped the adults, right? I have kept an eye on the body."

Stout was silent, as if to say that you didn't need to look at the body in person.

But a gentleman shouldn't be so blunt and embarrass others, and Mr. Amuro looks so soft, what if she cries after being rejected by him?

He doesn't know how to coax people.