Chapter 552 Ch551 Shandel's Lies

Chapter 552 Ch.551 The Lie of Shandel

The terrifying man-eating dragon guards its treasure in the snowy mountain top or deep dry cave.

Those forbidden books always describe it like this.

Now, Mason Lyle is no different from the dragon.

It is waiting for the heroic butcher's knife, squatting in the deep and cold cave - but now, it is not guarding rare treasures, but its own fear and despair.

During this period.

He did not get a drop of water or a crumb of bread.

Instead, he had a pen, a thick parchment, and a kerosene lamp.

The gray-haired little witch did not abuse him, using the imagined whip, iron rod, or knife soaked in water to cut his flesh and blood, and forcing him to ask what bad things he had done - she did want to know, but she used a gentler method.

This made Mason Lyle a little disdainful at first.

'If I don't say anything, what can I do? '

At first, at first.

Two days later, the worms in his stomach began to gurgle non-stop. His saliva first increased, so much that he had to swallow more frequently to prevent his fingers from uncontrollably pinching the black beetle shaking its tentacles and picking it up and putting it in his mouth.

Then.

It became less again.

Like a mummy drained of moisture by the desert, the tentacles flowed around the house where he lived, but he could only watch.

On the third day.

He began to long for lakes and oceans.

The hated little witch often came here to see him, bringing delicious steaks, red wine, juicy fruits and greasy cakes.

They did not enter any mouth.

They were just wasted on the ground, feeding the cracks in the bricks of the court.

Mason Lyle finally let go and begged for mercy from the "young" girl he looked down on, begging her to give him some water and a piece of... even black bread.

He said, "Miss, you are only ten years old, why do you abuse an elderly adult? '

Ten years old.

This number seemed to make the other party a little unhappy.

Mason Lyle was not sure.

She was probably only twelve years old... thirteen years old?

As a result, he could only smell the fragrance of red wine all afternoon... who could sleep?

The fourth day.

He couldn't help it.

He felt that he was about to die here, without any so-called "dignity" and "decency". He couldn't help but turn his eyes to the pile of feces in the corner that nurtured the wriggling white meat.

His own.

Then, then...

He vomited.

He wrote while crying and vomiting, writing down his crimes.

Twenty minutes later.

He got a bowl of broth and a piece of torn, soft white bread.

Mason Lyle swore that this was the best meal he had ever eaten in his life.

So...

What are you waiting for?

So, taking advantage of his fullness, he wrote down some harmless crimes.

This time.

He not only got food and drink, but also two well-rolled cigarettes.

Take a few sips by the flame of the oil lamp.

It's great.

Paradise on earth.

Mason Lyle sat in the corner with a cigarette, picking at the hard lumps of feces on his face and arms, thinking about how he would survive next - now it's not a question of how much to say or how to say it.

But once his "crimes are written", he may never get food again.

He will starve to death.

Those people are going to do this, right?

He curled up in a dark corner, thinking about his possibility of survival, but he didn't know that the written crime roll had been sent to the "child" he was familiar with.

Halida couldn't read.

But she had ears.

'On October 5, I betrayed my friend. Of course, if he didn't make a mistake, nothing would happen, right? '

Shandel held the roll of paper and read it with the piety of reading the Book of Eden.

Halida silently held the gold pound in her palm, lowered her head, and said nothing.

"...I swear with my soul to the Father of All Things. I have no bad intentions, I just want to live a better life - benefactor, can't a man who works hard... do you want a private sock knitter, Halida?"

This sudden jump in the sentence made the dark-skinned girl stunned for a moment.

She found that the gray-haired lady who frightened her was staring at...

her feet with great interest.

Then to her calves, thighs.

Then...then.

The sight was like a pair of real hands, gently kneading her flesh and blood like kneading a doll stuffed with cotton.

It was like looking at an exquisite and beautiful gift.

"Miss..."

"It's okay to call me 'Miss'. Halida, do you know what to call Roland?" Shandel put down the paper and looked at her with a smile.

Sir?

Halida opened her mouth, and the word that came to her mind naturally became: "...Master."

"I am more satisfied with you."

Shandel got up from the high-backed chair, walked to Halida's side, and leaned over to look at her.

The gray hair fell on the other's face.

It made Halida feel itchy.

But she didn't dare to move a finger.

She was afraid of her.

Halida herself didn't know why. It was a sense that was hard to explain, not like smelling burnt smell with the nose and thinking of fire, seeing blood with the eyes and thinking of daggers, hearing wailing with the ears and thinking of danger.

She was so beautiful.

Like an exquisite doll, no flaws can be found.

She has hair as soft as gray satin, a pair of clear blue eyes that sometimes shine in the light, thick eyelashes, a small nose pressed on a straight upturned beam, and two lips with watery lips - she seems to be a tall girl. Children always need someone to hold them and say gentle and loving words.

But I don’t know why.

Halida was just afraid of her.

I'm scared from the bottom of my heart.

"You should know your future destiny. My kind lover will send you to Taylor's house to receive a little education, and then you will serve as his maid until death."

Xander used his fingers to gently move the black hair out of Halida's eyes, looking at the eyelashes that were trembling like butterfly wings, and the silver eyes full of fear.

"Are you happy in your heart, little dog? You can be closer to him than anyone else, stick to him, accompany him, and look at him all day long - you can stay up all night and stare at him quietly, Yes or no?"

Xander suddenly laughed, got close to Halida's face faster than Halida could react, and strangled her neck with his palms.

Then.

Tighten firmly.

"You are extremely happy, don't think I can't tell," the girl with a playful face whispered in Halida's ear: "You might even secretly kiss the spoons and knives he used, and smell the clothes he was about to wash. , socks, underpants...oh, by the way, you might like his toilet better, I guess..."

Some vicious, ambiguous words that made the blood rush faster came out through the two delicate red lips, and were spoken to the dark ear.

"I kind of like you, and I kind of hate you."

"What to do?"

Halida's eyes were blinking like crazy, and her two slender arms were driven upward by instinct, trying to push away the woman who was about to strangle her - but when the critical moment came, she held back.

She was afraid of the consequences of pushing away.

She was so timid that she would rather be strangled to death in this narrow room than dare to truly resist.

Fortunately, this 'grey-haired bad woman' doesn't want to kill her yet.

Halida was released, bent over, and coughed violently.

"Roland Collins is a cultist. You have seen it with your own eyes, haven't you?" Xander clasped his hands behind his back, lowered his head, and smiled sweetly: "Do you see a brother in him... or a mother? This trick is not something that a serious ritualist can use. of."

"Halida."

"Shall we make a bet?"

A trace of amusement flashed in the girl's clear eyes.

She slowly bent over, but her voice became softer and softer.

"Three days."

she said.

"Mason Lyle knows this secret. He knows that Roland Collins is a cultist." Xander blinked: "I will not kill him, and I am not qualified to judge him... In three days, other executives will interrogate him. . Then...some secrets will no longer be hidden.”

"Halida, do you know what happens to the cultists?"

Xander grabbed the woman's wrist on the seat, lifted it up, pinched it with one index finger, and moved it to the candle on the table.

- Let the flame bite her finger.

"He'll be burned."

Xander hooked up a key and placed it gently on the table with a bright smile: "Of course, of course. Maybe I lied, and these are all lies to you...right?"