Chapter 948: The Stick Under the Robe

"Maca."

Willie, who was sitting in the middle of the bed, was always watching Maca.

Through the streams of bubbling red mist, she could see that Maca's expression seemed to be a little stiff, and the right hand holding the staff gradually turned white as he gradually clenched it tightly.

From the looks of it, Maca stood there motionless as if he was enduring something.

"... Maca?"

Willie felt that she shouldn't know what kind of emotion should be surging at this moment. Because those emotions that should belong to her have already been sealed along with the curse in her blood.

However, even though the seal was not released, why did she... She could feel a heartfelt throbbing continuously expanding in her heart?

"Maka? Are you, okay?"

When Willie called out the name for the third time, she saw that the other person finally responded. Although there was no verbal response, the other party's slightly frozen eyes suddenly became alive again, and slowly moved towards her.

And after that, about five or six seconds passed, Maca suddenly took a deep breath.

"Emotions should be back, right? Why... even if you have feelings, do you still speak in this intermittent tone? I remember when you told me a story last time, didn't you become quite fluent later on?"

His voice was still a little hoarse, and his breathing didn't seem to be so smooth. But when he said these words, his tone was relaxed, and even mixed with some jokes in it.

However, Maca's hand holding the staff did not relax, and the joints were still a little pale.

"Don't worry, I'm fine..." He smiled and said, "Sit there and wait! Although it will take a long time, you can get used to the feeling of regaining your emotions first. First... Well, Why don't you just smile!"

After all, Maca took another deep breath, then took out an empty potion bottle without a cork from his waist, and slowly placed it on the floor in front of him.

In order to eliminate unnecessary interference factors, he did not use the floating spell, but bent down and knelt to put it down himself.

But I don't know if the invisible pressure just now is still oppressing him, so that he seems to be tied with a very heavy sandbag all over his body, and every movement seems extremely slow.

But even so, his expression was still so calm, and there was even a lingering smile on his face.

It's worth mentioning that when he was doing these actions, the red air in the room didn't stagnate a single bit, and was still surging regularly.

After hearing what Maca said, Wei Li on the bed caressed her chest.

is it? That's right... Emotions did appear again, and the throbbing just now didn't seem to be some illusion.

Realizing this, she unconsciously followed Maca's suggestion and stretched the corners of her mouth, showing that smile that she had practiced countless times in front of Maca again.

"Before... I didn't like, practice smiling."

"why?"

While listening to Willie's words, Maca stood up straight again with his knees propped up, and then asked a question.

Willy maintained the curvature of the corner of her mouth, and said quietly:

"It's empty and kind of weird."

"Hmm... like you're laughing at someone else?"

Maca nodded and continued to respond, while raising his staff with a little difficulty.

"Maybe... well, I don't know."

Compared with Maka's sluggish movements, Willie's easy and smooth head shaking seemed even more obvious. Although the two are in the same room, they seem to be in two worlds.

"Since you don't know, let's start thinking about it now!"

The moment Maca gave a casual suggestion, the staff he just raised suddenly trembled... No, it wasn't the staff shaking, but his hand!

At that moment, it seemed that there was another force in the room,

Suddenly, the magic power pervading in it was aroused. Before I knew it, something seemed to be captured silently.

It is a small particle in the rushing red mist—in the non-stop flowing mist, it is like an inconspicuous water droplet in a raging river, so that it is still difficult to find after leaving the mist.

But Maca found it accurately.

Gently dragging the staff back, a stream of magic power engulfed the tiny red dot, and under Maca's will, it was slowly drawn to the top of the potion bottle, and then fell silently in the bottle.

"This is a very good start," Maca said again after finishing all this. "It proves to us that the long wait so far is indeed very meaningful."

Willie obviously didn't understand what Maca was talking about, and she didn't even see the little red dot that represented "great significance", but this did not prevent her from showing a clearer smile to Maca.

However, if this is the "first step" today, there are still thousands of steps waiting for Maca after that!

"Then let's get started!"

Macafu stretched out his staff again, saying so calmly.

...

Two or three hours is undoubtedly a long time on Maca's side. Yet for those still sleeping soundly in St. Mungo's, time doesn't even feel like it's passing.

When Little Victor woke up from his sleep in a daze, he found that the warehouse that was being used as a temporary ward had already become a little noisy.

"Well, is this... is it morning?"

There are no windows in the warehouse. If you live here for a longer period of time, it will be easy for people to be unable to distinguish between day and night.

And Victor and his son haven't been out for several days...

Or in other words, they can't get out at all.

In fact, the people living in this warehouse are all injured patients whose movements have been restricted due to various reasons.

Some of the seriously injured have been lying down for the past few days, and they need to be fed by trainee therapists or those young volunteers even to eat; in jail...

Oh no, it seems that saying this is a bit too much... In terms of the current treatment, it can only be said to be "under house arrest" at best.

Just like little Victor, and his drunken dad.

"Not to mention house arrest or not, at least there is an advantage to living here..." Little Victor raised his hand and squeezed his neck, lying on his back and murmured secretly, "That's why 'Drunk Daddy' has run out of alcohol." , I am finally not drunk for the time being."

"Are you awake? Then come and eat!"

Hearing that familiar voice suddenly, Little Victor propped himself up on the mattress and sat up, rubbing his sleepy eyes vigorously.

I don't know if it's a genetic relationship. Although the father and son can't go out like other people who live here, they both act a little indifferent.

Perhaps, it was because the safety of the family members had been confirmed before coming here!

"Hey, here we come."

Looking at the father who was sitting on the wooden crate at the door, munching on bread, little Victor finally stood up from the mattress, and walked around other people's floor with his shoes on.

"Sit down! We'll have toast with strawberry jam today, and there's porridge with dried fruit over there. Serve it yourself!" Old Victor couldn't help muttering, "It's really strange to talk about those wizards, they are so busy. The hospital is full of people. But the daily breakfast can be changed...but the taste is really good!"

"Everyone says it's a 'wizard', so it's fine to conjure it up with magic!"

Little Victor said as he walked towards the wooden crate with the pot of porridge, but behind him, his father immediately shook his head.

"I don't know if magic can make breakfast, but magic is definitely not omnipotent... Hey, maybe magic also obeys the principle of conservation of mass!"

If Maca was here right now, he would definitely applaud Old Victor's words——Judging from the laws Maca observed in magic research, this might really be a correct conjecture!

Unfortunately, he's not there right now.

"What is the quality of the horizontal, the quality of the vertical... I said, Dad, are you going to explain it to me about that matter?"

These days, no matter how many times little Victor asked, the old man never told him a word about his ability to fly on a broom.

Although he felt that it was very likely that it had something to do with the mother he had never met, but as long as the old man didn't say anything, the speculation would never become a fact.

"Didn't I tell you that I don't know?" Old Victor waved his hand carelessly, then stuffed a large mouthful of toast dipped in strawberry jam into his mouth, and said vaguely, "How many times do you have to ask? Stop asking!"

"Ugh--"

As a filial son, Little Victor really has nothing to do with this unreliable father.

"Forget it! Then let us continue to live here!" he complained feebly, "and when Mr. McLean gets impatient, let him 'pick' right out of your stubborn head Come up with the answer!"

"Hmph, he wants to pick, but I can't stop it." Old Victor rolled his eyes and said, "Unfortunately, he can only pick out a handful of rotten brains from my head!"

When Little Victor heard this, he subconsciously glanced at the bowl of porridge he had just put in it—it was a white bowl, not to mention it really looked like...

"Stop talking, let no one eat breakfast!"

As he was speaking, he suddenly caught a glimpse of a seriously injured patient lying not far away from the corner of his eye. The gauze that was bandaged almost all over his head leaked a large amount of blood.

Well! This time I lost my appetite... Wait, what's that?

Little Victor stretched his neck to look at the patient's coat. From his angle, he could just see that there seemed to be a small wooden stick protruding from the inside of the coat.

"Oh! Could it be..."

The genius remembers the address of this site in a second: . Mobile version reading URL: m.