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Evil Awe-Inspiring 202 Hallucination, Must Be Hallucination!

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Yoyo cheers at once. I try to open my eyes, only to feel dizzy. I try to sit up, but I have tried twice, just feel that my strength is hollowed out and feeling daze.

I feel my body burning!
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The wound infection! I immediately realize the problem!

I've been running away and working hard these days, and I'm already very tired. Yesterday, I tried my best to escape. After being shot, I jumped into the stinking river and spent a lot of physical strength. My body was already unable to support. At the same time, the wound must have been infected! Although I have changed the medicine before I slept last night.

"You have a fever." Mixed blood girl gently comes to me, her eyes clearly have some guilty, "I'm sorry, you hurt, last night I shouldn't let you sleep here."

I cough and say softly: "I'm thirsty. Give me some water." As soon as I open my mouth, I'm a little shocked with my hoa.r.s.e voice.

"Lie down." Her voice is gentle and firm, gently helps me down, and then take a wet towel, gently covering on my forehead. Then she take another cup and feed me some water with a spoon.

The water is sweet, as if with sugar.

I'm a little conscious now. My first reaction is to be alert!

Originally, I kidnapped her before I came to her house. At the beginning of yesterday, I also subdued her by violent and tough means. And now when I'm weak, will she call the police?

Looking at my eyes, she's smiling and whispers: "Don't worry, I won't call the police."

I take a breath, close my eyes slightly and thinking for a while. The towel on my forehead is soon heated. I feel a little uncomfortable, lift my hand and take it down. Then I clench my teeth and sit up again: "What time is it?"

"It's still early." Her face is still tender, "Take some medicine. It's anti-inflammatory."

I nod, but refuse her to give me water. Instead, I take the cup and swallow the pills she hands me.

I'm soft. I begin to worry about this situation. Obviously now I don't have much deterrence for her. It's not that I don't trust her, it's that

Hum, I've seen so many betries and betrayals!

Soon, there are only two of us at home. Although Yoyo also cares about me, but she was kicked out of the door to go to school by her sister early in the morning. When she left, mixed blood girl also told Yoyo a few words.


"Don't worry, I'm just telling my sister not to say that we have a guest." She sees the suspicion in my eyes.

I sigh: "Thank you!"

"You..." She hesitates for a moment: "I took off your cloth in the morning. Don't doubt it. I just saw that your clothes were wet with perspiration, so I wanted to wipe your body... "

"Well, thank you!"

"On you body, there are a lot of scars. They are knife wounds, right?" There are some certain timidities in her eyes.

I smile, but reluctantly. Yes, I have a dozen scars on my body! These are the memories left when I was chased and killed in GZ city.

"You... You must have experienced something terrible, right?"

Her fingertips gently across my back, and then slowly fall on my shoulder. There is an ugly scar, like a centipede. There are some shocks in her eyes, and maybe also some vague concerns.

I take a look at her and says slowly: "These are the lessons."

"Lessons?"

I smile, but the laughter is cold.

"These scars were left one year ago. They taught me one thing: never trust others easily." I say slowly, "These scars were from an elder I used to trust very much."

"You..." She hesitates for a moment and cann't help whispering, "Who is didi? Is it a girl's name?"

I glare at her. Under the pressure of my eyes, she can not help but shrinks back. She waves her hand and says: "Don't misunderstand! It's just that you used to call this name when you were sleeping..."

My heart is shaking

Didi... When I were sleeping, did I really call this name?

These days, I really don't know how to think about her. My life now, just like walking on the steel wire, is full of fighting and killing every day. Now, can I still deserve that gentle girl?

I smile bitterly, but I hear her whisper again: "And... Nanny, it's also a girl's name, isn't it?"

I:"…Er…"

She narrows her eyes and is smiling. When she's smiling, that pair of blue eyes clear as if bent into the shape of the moon bud: "You are a playful man, aren't you?"

I smile and say nothing.

Then, I can't help but ask: "I did that to you yesterday, aren't you angry?" I say with wry smile, "At least, I am very weak now, if you want to resist me, I have no way."

She shakes her head. "No, now you are my hope." After a pause, she looks at me seriously: "Seriously! I always feel that you should be a good person."

Good person?

I laugh bitterly and sigh.

It seems that every woman I have met all thought I should be a good person. But as such a murderer and arsonist, can I be called a good person?

"Why would you think of me like that?"

"Because..." Obviously she has completely relieved her fear of me, looking at me, smiling and says, "You are the first one who went to our nightclub and splashed money, but didn't touch any girl. And you even spent money to take me out, but you didn't touch me. Instead, you led me out shopping and invite me to eat snacks at roadside stalls. In short, I think you should be a good person."

I'm trying to cool my voice and say: "You're wrong. I'm not a good person. I'm a bad guy, a very bad guy." Then I stare at her indifferent, "my things you'd better not ask too much! It's not good for you!"

But this time, she doesn't seem to be intimidated by my ferocious appearance. Instead, she looks at me with a smile and says quickly. But this let my cold sweat all come out!

"Oh, by the way, when you were sleeping, you were still shouting another name. Well, who's Jojo? Is it also a girl's name?"

I %^&(@#

Jojo?

How is it possible?

How could I dream and call out Jojo's name?

I dreamed of didi or nanny. It was because I had emotional disputes with them, but Jojo…

Impossible!

It's absolutely impossible!

How can I have that kind of mind for a lesbian, especially a tough woman like Jojo?

I can't help but think of the scene in my mind: Jojo is with the lascivious smile squinting at other girls, and then whistles with a standard pervert posture: "Beauty, are you free at night?"

Hallucination! It must be an illusion! Jojo and I? What a terrible idea! That's absolutely impossible!

I can't think much of myself. Soon I give myself a definition: I'm confused with fever! It must be!

Mixed blood girl ignores my appearance, but takes the towel into the kitchen.

Just when I/m out of my wits, I suddenly hear the sound of "bang bang bang" smas.h.i.+ng at the door!

I feel a twinge in my heart!

The mixed blood beauty in the kitchen immediately runs out and gives me a nervous look. I takes a deep breath and thinking about it. It's for me? It seems unlikely, because I didn't leave any clues.

At this time, there are voices of abuse outside, speaking Vietnamese.

It's men's voices, more than one anyway!

Hearing the abuse voices outside, her face is suddenly pale! She takes a look of the door with fear and dare not to open.

I sit up and know. It seems that these people are not aiming at me. Maybe it's this girl's trouble.

I struggle to stand up, and without saying a word, I go into the kitchen, take out the long and narrow kitchen knife, hold it with my back hand. Then I put my hand behind me and walk to her side. I lean against the wall, take a deep breath, ask her steadily: "Are they looking for you?"

She looks at a series of movements I go to get the knife, her face is even worse. Her voice is a little scared and trembling: "Yes… They are... They are for me… They are... "

I pat her face and say slowly: "Open the door first."

She look at my face a little hesitant, eyes struggling, but still walks to open the door.

As soon as the door is opened, someone is rus.h.i.+ng in and knocking the girl back. I take her to stand beside me, and looking at the intruders coldly.

These are three men. They all look very young, about twenty years old. All three are not tall. The typical Vietnamese. They are wearing s.h.i.+rts, open necklines, wrinkled clothes and dirty faces.

In their hands, they are carrying buckets of paint and brushes. There's a man carrying a thick stack of paper with large fonts on it.

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