The heart is beating [Fifth Personality]

Is life tenacious or fragile?

When I really came into contact with life in the field of medicine, I thought life was fragile, and a toxin in a petri dish the size of a palm could easily kill a person.

Natural and man-made disasters, no matter how big or small, can arbitrarily deprive a person of the right to live.

Even if a person is lucky enough to die, the gradual weakening and degeneration of those organs reminds me of the fragility of life all the time.

When I saw the philanthropist kneeling on the ground bleeding profusely, I felt more and more that life is fragile.

But in the blink of an eye, before I could see how it all happened, he had already become like this.

After we blocked his crawling path, the philanthropist finally gave up and looked up.

He looked at Jack, then at me, and his gaze finally settled on the hand I was holding with Jack, with a look of shock on his face.

I saw him with his mouth wide open, his eyes wide open, and he watched in horror as I stood beside Jack, a terrifying and murderous executioner, not only that, but I also held hands with Jack in such a friendly and harmonious manner.

But the philanthropist didn't say much either.

Although his expression is so obvious, his current situation does not allow him to question how I can still be like this after being betrayed by him.

Sure enough, although there was obvious shock on the philanthropist's face, it was more fear.

He finally put all his eyes on Jack's face, moved back desperately, and begged tremblingly while moving: "Let me go, please, don't kill me, don't kill me... Please you!"

Jack naturally ignored it, as far as the philanthropist moved back, Jack led me forward, pressing on every step without letting go.

In my impression, the Jack who watched Miss Gardener spiraling into the sky with ecstasy and arrogance is back again!

Seeing the distance getting closer and closer, the philanthropist threw himself to the ground after knowing that he could not escape.

He raised his head and begged Jack miserably to let him go, all the snot and tears came out all at once, so pitiful.

When he betrayed me, the philanthropist didn't look like this. I still remember the vicious expression on his face at that time.

Who would have thought.

It was just a rainy time, and the person who fell down changed from me to him.It can only be said that feng shui turns, and retribution comes really fast...

Jack only glanced at the philanthropist lying on the ground trying to survive, but still ignored him.

He turned his head and glanced at me, and said slowly: "Tsk tsk—little white rabbit, you are really lucky. The opportunity for revenge came so quickly!"

I closed my lips tightly and didn't speak.

This game is like a huge vortex, and Jack is the center of all storms.

He imprisoned me, making me in the center of the vortex and unable to leave. I could only watch helplessly how he cruelly ruthlessly plundered the whole process of life.

I can't help but think of the experience of escaping from him several times before, the scene of getting along in the basement of the church, and the intoxicating deep kiss...

It made me gradually forget his own cruelty!

I forgot the fact that he was still a demon, and I forgot that we were always opposites in this game.

The scene in front of me gave me a loud slap in the face, and instantly woke up my vigilance that was paralyzed by Jack's false tenderness.

The fear of Jack was like a tidal wave, slowly coming back to occupy my brain.

Looking at the appearance of the philanthropist at this moment, I felt the same feeling as if I saw my own future.

I trembled, not daring to speak.

The philanthropist lay on the ground, enduring the pain, tearing up, begging Jack to let him go.

But Jack still ignored it, and neither of us heeded the philanthropist's entreaties.

Jack was completely dismissive of the philanthropist's entreaties, while I was immersed in great fear and trembling.

I wanted to shake off Jack's hand and start running without looking back, but my mind barked at me not to.I desperately suppressed this physical instinct, as if I had become a stone statue, unable to move.

Jack didn't wait for my response for a long time. He seemed to have noticed my abnormality, so he let go of his hand, then turned around and held my face in his arms, letting me meet his gaze.

"What? Don't you want to take revenge? I still remember you lying on the ground with nothing to love." Jack was a little dissatisfied with my frightened expression in exchange for his kindness.

He looked into my eyes, raised his chin and pointed at the philanthropist, and continued, "You decide, should you put him on a chair, or just let him die here?"

I?

How could I have made such a decision! ?

I wanted to say no, but when I saw the storm brewing in Jack's eyes, I couldn't utter a single syllable.

"Miss Emily Dale, please help me, I don't want to die... what happened before is my fault, it's my wolf ambition, I shouldn't treat you like that, but please forgive me, let me go, Please..." But before I could speak, the philanthropist looked at me and Jack, as if he understood the situation, and the object of pleading turned into me immediately.

Although according to Jack, everyone except me could not hear what he said, but it has to be said that philanthropists have a more sensitive sense of smell than ordinary people.

I don't know how philanthropists can turn around so quickly.

Maybe it was Jack who kept ignoring him and put his hand on my face so that I could look at him; maybe it was because he saw that I survived Jack's hand and was hunted down by him all the way.

The philanthropist may have made up some series of plots based on these abnormalities, making him think that if I could open my mouth to intercede with Jack on his behalf, it might work.

Or, he just simply tried another person.

I don't know what goes on in the minds of philanthropists.

But he is really good at playing around the wind, no matter whether he hits the right way or after a moment of thinking, just as far as Jack said, Jack really put the initiative in my hands.

Jack turned his head and glanced at the sudden change of philanthropist, his eyes were quite mocking and disdainful.

He put his index finger and middle finger on my right cheek and stroked back and forth, and continued to ask: "Tell me, little white rabbit! Tell me, what do you want to do with this lowly mouse."