Chapter 560 Ch559 Good Dog

Chapter 560 Ch.559 Good Dog

‘In three days, someone will take Mason Lyle away. ’

'oh? ’

‘Cultist? ’

‘Haven’t you seen people hanged and burned to death? Have you never heard the beautiful sound of grease sizzling in the flames? ’

‘Roland? friend? Ha ha…'

Halida will never forget that face with a ferocious smile.

In countless dark moments.

There is indeed something about the woman that scares her that deserves to be feared.

She is crazy.

He is a born monster.

'I had a horse when I was a kid, a very disobedient horse - my father said that if a hummer is tamed, it can become the owner's best companion, allowing you to ride it wherever you want. ’

‘Yes, Halida, look at my status, how could it be possible that I don’t have an excellent horse trainer to serve me? ’

‘Whip, whistle, fast, company. With coldness and gentleness... What is the difference between a horse and a human? ’

she said.

'Of course I tamed that horse...'

'but…'

'The day it let me caress it, the day it opened its heart to me - I pierced its belly with a sharpened iron awl. ’

'It's almost crazy! It must be thinking: why? Why? Why? ! ’

'oops…'

'Just like you. ’

Xander's voice echoed clearly in Halida's ears, and the gentle but cold breath seemed to be blowing on her ears again and again, and penetrated into her head, making her tremble uncontrollably from the cold.

'I will never have friends, Halida. ’

‘What kind of friend is Roland Collins? ’

'He is my Master, my Father, my God...'

she said.

'Also my hell, my enemies, my corpse. ’

Xander stared at the empty walls in the room, stroked Halida's finally soft black hair, and let her lie on his lap, like a well-behaved dog warming its owner by the fire.

she told Halida.

He did not have to slaughter live sheep himself and wash his feet with their blood. There is no need to find a hundred beast girls and use their flesh and skin to sew a bed and use their short bones to build a chair.

As long as there was Xander Kratof in the room, there was no longer any need for a mute, unattended toilet bucket.

As long as he is willing, countless people are willing to bear the so-called wrath and joy.

Whether it is pleasure in pain or pain in pleasure.

Like saline solution or something poured into the mouth.

If he says it makes a person clean, then she is clean; if he says it makes a person give birth, then she gives birth.

Whatever God wants, believers should unconditionally satisfy and believe in it.

if only…

As long as he always has been.

Xander's soft hands, as gentle as the wind, touched the hound's trembling neck, moving like a razor blade on her arteries, her crimson channels, filled with fear, cowardice and weakness.

This undoubtedly awakens the deepest fear and awe of death in the ancient blood of mankind.

she said.

The fluttering white bird is a symbol of freedom.

But they also poop freely.

And a soul longing for the sea, if she saw a dry and cracked land...

She wouldn't plant roses on it.

'It's like he chose you. ’

Those originally beautiful eyes were now filled with blue blood.

They were swollen, distended, almost pushing out of their sockets.

'Is he always right? ’

'still…'

‘Disappointing? ’

'If this is the case...he will not be counted as my divine favor...'

Halida didn't understand the meaning of these words.

But she knew.

Xander Kratof is a true madman.

She will harm Mr. Collins.

She would stand by and let some people take the leader away, and then wait for him to reveal his identity as a 'cultist'...

Halida didn't know who would determine a 'cultist', but she knew that once he was branded as a 'cultist', Mr. Collins would be burned to death.

How could Halida let someone harm her husband, the person who gave her the light in the dark night?

then…

Crunch.

The key unlocked the iron door.

A flickering firelight illuminated the dim face.

Mason Lyle sat in the corner, raised his head lazily, and happened to meet those silver eyes.

The tight and powerful body was quietly shrouded in darkness.

In this deathly cage, Mason Lyle suddenly saw hope... maybe both of them.

Halida.

His child, his black slave, his dear, beloved, little beauty that he will miss forever...

Halida.

Mason Lyle couldn't believe it. He rubbed his eyes and his sore thighs and buttocks, rolling and crawling!

"Halida?!"

He called again.

As usual.

The girl cowered her neck and stuttered in reply.

"...First, sir."

The heavy hammer in Mason Lyle's heart fell to the ground, and a loud trumpet sounded: blowing for freedom.

"Come on! Oh, kid, I haven't seen you for a long time..." He rubbed his hands, his handsome and aging face still had the same fake smile as before: "Come on! You are here to see me, right?"

He grabbed Halida's wrist like a master and enthusiastically led her into his 'house'.

Then.

As his eyelashes flickered, he greedily glanced at the key hanging at his waist.

"Sir..."

"Oh, I'm so sorry about your brother. You know, I've always treated you as my own children. Right? I've been good to you, giving you food and water, and building many tents so you don't get cold in winter and sunburned in summer. Is there anyone better than me in the world?"

"I really don't know why these black crows are holding on to me, saying I killed someone?"

"Child, do you know that... Morris? Is that his name? Can you say something for me? Considering that I took care of you before... I never-"

"Sir!"

Halida suddenly raised her voice and interrupted Mason Lyle's thoughts.

She stared, and her heart pounded as she looked at him.

"Mr. Collins... identity..." Her knuckles were clenched white, and a few slender tendons were faintly stretched in her neck: "Can't... can't tell... others..."

Mason Lyle was stunned at first, and then his eyes quickly rolled.

What... can't tell others?

That man has another identity?

"Ah, yes, that's right. Of course I know. I've known for a long time that Collins... has an 'identity'. I know, I know it very well." He coughed a few times and circled around Halida: "I always have good intentions and don't want to make these things clear. In my eyes, you are all children..."

He spoke slower and slower, and his steps became lighter and lighter...

Until.

He broke the thin rope around his waist and took the key!

This scared Halida, and she shouted in panic to stop him: "You can't! Lai...! Laier... Woof!"

She started barking again.

Mason Laier was very happy.

Yes, that's right.

He had figured it out these days.

Except for the meals once every two days, this place is unattended. As long as you have the key, you can sneak up and get out, find a few nights and unfamiliar faces, and walk out swaggeringly.

Take a carriage, hum a song, and leave the city happily.

As long as you have the key...

Ha!

This stupid woman really delivered it!!

Mason Lyle's smile kept twisting inwards in Halida's eyes, and soon, it turned into a piece of minced meat flowing inwards.

"Damn... why do you think I asked you?! Bitch! You hooked up with a big shot, right?! Do you think I don't know your little thoughts?! Why didn't I see it earlier... You are my child... How can you just..."

The voice became more and more harsh.

The panting became more and more rapid.

Halida retreated in fear.

Keep retreating.

Knocked over the oil lamp and ink bottle on the table, trying to hide herself in the corner.

Backing off.

What she is best at.

She felt like she had turned into a monster that couldn't see the world clearly and couldn't hear the sound clearly, and everything around her gradually became hazy and psychedelic.

'Our fear is singing sweetly...'

Who is talking?

'Accept me...'

'Kill me...'

Who, who is talking? !

She looked at the man approaching little by little, listening to his roar, the foul language he vented, the palm reaching for her collar and the flesh and blood oozing red juice...

She knew what he wanted to do.

But she could do nothing.

The voice in her head became clearer and clearer, like a whisper in her ear, melting her skull.

‘The storm is upside down, the rain is pouring...’

Someone sang.

‘Kiss me...’

‘Fear me! ’

She was strangled and pushed against the wall. She was close enough to smell the disgusting rotten smell gushing out of Mason Lyle's mouth.

She was suffocated.

She was going to die...

But.

Halida didn't care.

The roaring storm in her head was embracing her soul, kissing her cheek, pulling her wrist, taking her to dance in the air, pointing to the pine-covered path, and whispering like the wind:

‘Face it, fear it, love it. ’

‘Let it destroy you, or you destroy it. ’

‘Ha, Li, Da. ’

Ha Li Da…?

She felt like she was back in those dark but free days.

Chewing beetles, shouting instead of speaking, and shuttling through dense forests and shadows.

Those were happy, terrifying, painful and free days…

Barefoot, using teeth and claws.

The world lay lazily in front of her in its most primitive form, at her fingertips…

‘Do you like it? ’

The cheetah dissolved in the darkness slowly raised its head.

I like it.

It’s great.

In the horrified sight, the woman slowly raised her head.

She grew claws and fangs.

A series of low roars that were not human came out of her hoarse throat.

There was molten silver flowing in her eyes, as if teaching people to look at the empty and cold silver moon, the yarn that was woven but not gathered up was dripping from the thread ends and fell through the eyeballs.

‘Use it or not… my blade should always bleed. ’

Ten fingers spread out and firmly grasped Mason Lyle’s face.

Even if he pushed with his hands, punched with his fists, and kicked with his feet.

The sharpness born for hunting shredded the skin into minced meat inch by inch, tearing the muscles and hooking the bones along the way.

Shandel stood quietly in the shadows.

Listening.

Watching.

The endless gnawing and biting sounds made the straight lips curl up like a crescent moon supported by the stars.

This flesh-colored decoration, which is usually pinned on the skin, is so beautiful that people will like it when they see it. And at this moment, it really expresses the owner's mood faithfully.

Very satisfied.

A wonderful breath that people will never forget after seeing it once surrounds the roaring beast in the cage, and the rations that have been raised for many days and chewed into flocs but still wailing and begging for mercy.

"Influence: Fear"

"Influence: Anger"

"Influence: Sacrifice"

"Influence: Fanaticism"

"Influence: Bloody Revenge"

Xindel tapped his toes, hummed a song, and disappeared into the darkness again.

"Good dog... Good dog..."

"The master has a good dog..."