Chapter 372 Sharp Nails!

phone-reading

What Chen Mo needs has not yet appeared. If he intervenes too early, it is likely to destroy the original plot trajectory and generate unknown variables.

So Chen Mo just sneaked into the Howlett Manor quietly at night, and installed a large number of hidden miniature cameras and monitors in the entire manor, allowing Jarvis to monitor at any time.

He's waiting for a moment when something happens, and what he's waiting for appears, can he start to intervene in his plans.

Fortunately, he didn't wait too long.

One month later, Chen Mo was drinking coffee leisurely in the manor when Jarvis' voice suddenly sounded in his ear.

"Sir, James Howlett is ill, and Victor Logan is with him in the room."

Hearing this didn't seem to make much sense, Chen Mo's eyes suddenly lit up.

This is exactly the scene before that pivotal scene in the movie.

After waving away the servants who were waiting beside him, Chen Mo got up and went back to the study. After closing all the doors and windows, he sat on the chair behind the desk.

"Give me the live footage."

"Okay, sir."

As soon as Jarvis finished speaking, a light and shadow projected from Chen Mo's watch and spread out in the air in front of Chen Mo, forming a holographic projection.

The above shows a retro and gorgeous room with a large European-style solid wood bed against the wall. A teenage boy in a beautiful red wool pajamas is huddled on the bed, from time to time. coughing.

In front of the fireplace opposite him, a slightly older but worn-out boy sat on a stool boredly, trimming his nails with a knife, and talking to the sick little boy on the bed from time to time. sentence.

Chen Mo looked at the time, it was four o'clock in the afternoon, and the episode in Chen Mo's memory happened at night. Although the sun sets earlier in winter, there is still a long period of time.

...

Howlett Manor, the innermost room of the corridor on the second floor, in the fireplace, the high-quality firewood from the Rocky Mountains is burning brightly, releasing the billowing heat, bringing this room in this cold season. temperature like spring.

With the burning of the flame, time passed bit by bit, and the sky outside gradually darkened. Even with the fire of the fireplace, the room became dark.

"Victor, it's so dark!"

The little boy on the bed said in a weak voice.

"You are already thirteen years old, why are you still afraid of the dark!"

The boy sitting in front of the fireplace rolled his eyes when he heard the words, but he put down the knife in his hand, got up and walked to the bedside table beside the boy, opened the drawer and took out a box of matches, struck it, and lit the lamp installed on the wall by the bedside. The dim light of an oil lamp shone on the boy's face on the bed, making him visibly relieved.

The young man was about to blow out the match, but out of the corner of his eyes, he glanced at another oil lamp on the bedside table, and then lit the remaining flame of the match, and lit the hand-carried wind lamp that he used when he went out at night.

The room also became a little brighter under the light of these two oil lamps.

The little boy lying on the bed, James Howlett couldn't help showing a happy smile on his face.

Victor shook his wrist, put out the match that had burned to the base, turned around and walked back to the fireplace again, sat back on the chair, took out the knife from before and continued to trim his nails.

His fingernails seem to be a little deformed. They are not as wide and thin as ordinary people, revealing a white flesh color, but are narrow and thick, almost cylindrical, with sharp and sharp front ends, like the claws of animals. A yellow sheen.

At this time, he was using the sharp knife to continuously flatten the surface of the nail a little bit, and then cut off the sharp part that sticks out, and smoothed it out, trying to make it look closer to normal people's nails.

However, since the structure of the nail itself is different from that of ordinary people, even after his careful trimming,

Still clearly different from others.

But he still persevered and kept pruning it carefully.

While trimming, he didn't forget to talk to James Howlett on the bed so he wouldn't get bored.

It happened that James Howlett coughed a few more times, and Victor couldn't help but look up at him and said.

"Why are you always sick?"

James Howlett coughed a few more times and retorted without showing weakness.

"You were often sick when you were my age."

At this moment, the door of the room was suddenly opened, and a gentle middle-aged man in a shirt and a suit and waistcoat pushed the door and walked in.

Victor hurriedly got up from his chair and hid his nail clipper behind him.

"Good evening, sir!"

The middle-aged man glanced at him unexpectedly, nodded slightly and replied.

"Good evening, Victor, I didn't expect you to be here."

After the middle-aged man finished speaking, he continued to walk towards the bed.

"I'm just with James, sir, if you don't mind."

Victor, still standing by the fireplace, explained.

"You are very good."

The middle-aged man sat down beside the bed, smiled and praised Victor, then turned to look at the little boy on the bed, put his hand on his forehead, and asked warmly.

"Son, are you feeling better?"

"It's still cold, Dad."

James Howlett said weakly.

"It's just a fever, not high."

The middle-aged man, the boy's father, comforted John Howlett, the owner of the manor.

"You'll be fine in the morning."

When the father and son had a warm conversation, behind them, Victor Logan, who was standing by the fireplace, had a complicated expression on his face, envy, sadness, and hatred!

It's just that his hatred doesn't seem to be directed at the two in front of him.

"You always say that."

The little boy, James Howlett, heard his father's usual reassurance and complained softly.

John Howlett couldn't help laughing when he heard his son's words, and asked rhetorically with a smile.

"Because you'll be fine every time, won't you?"

"Um."

James Howlett nodded slightly, agreeing with his father's statement.

John Howlett reached for the bottle from the bedside table.

"Come on, it's time to take medicine."

At this moment, a huge slam on the door suddenly came from downstairs, along with the stern shout of a man.

"Elizabeth! Elizabeth!"

Elizabeth is the name of John Howlett's wife and the mother of James Howlett, who was lying in bed at this time, but I don't know why a man would run into someone else's house in the middle of the night and smash the door, calling out the name of someone else's wife .

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