Chapter 71
When coachman X211 took Miss Holmes back to the luxurious manor in the suburbs, the sky gradually became brighter, and Watson also ended his daily morning exercise.
Although his shoulder was injured and he could not lift his left arm, the other three limbs were still strong. Lying still in bed would only lead to muscle decline and slowed down nerve reactions. He would always quietly use his own weight to complete the task in the ward before morning arrived. A series of basic training to ensure that one's combat capabilities will not be reduced due to long-term hospitalization.
The unhealed left shoulder always took this opportunity to burst out with severe pain, trying to hinder the progress of morning exercises and consume his consciousness.
There is a tearing pain between the movement of flesh and bone, and the sweat flows through the stitched scars as if pouring spicy liquid... These burning pains are originally a warning that the physical body cannot bear the exercise, but the pain nerve signals transmitted by Zhongliang's warning When it reaches Watson's mind, it is like mellow and sweet nectar.
This made the blade and cup in his skull feel very happy, and some kind of accumulation of practicing the principles was enough.
Part of the secret scriptures of the Blade shook like a sword screaming, shaking off the rotten and rusty shell, blooming with a sharp edge of coldness, the sharp cold edge pierced deep into Watson's bone marrow, something as steely as iron The hard color is gradually staining this mortal body.
Part of the secret scriptures of the cup are also like the ripe and full green fruit, the swollen and cracked peel flows out of the sweet juice, and the juice is about to drip down the mortal body... But when the greedy moth suddenly sucks it, everything is was drawn into its belly.
The intracranial moth drank the sweet liquid from the cup and flapped its wings happily. As the wings flapped, it sprinkled dots of scales like silver dust. The scales naturally fell into the mortal body and took root, something as wild and as dense as the forest floor. The ancient breath flows throughout the body.
Watson felt that his skin was itching, and the feeling was particularly obvious in some areas of his body. When he opened his clothes, he found that the abnormal itching came from the scars he had left in the war in Afghanistan.
There seemed to be mosquito bites inside these fibrous connective tissues, as if the flesh and blood underneath were squirming, as if something was pressing out of the body.
He couldn't help scratching hard, trying to cover up the unpleasant itching feeling with the strong pain... Unexpectedly, with just a slight touch, the round hole-like gunshot wound scars on the body surface had already fallen off, as if they had been abandoned by cicadas. The remains of his body were shed, and his skin that had aged due to injuries was also shed.
He simply took off all his clothes, wiped all the itchy parts of his body, and gently stroked them with his palms. All the old scars fell off easily, revealing the new, slightly transparent skin underneath.
This scene made Watson couldn't help but recall his first experience of entering Mansu. At that time, after killing Elson in the forest, he received a gift from the fat white moth. After waking up in the morning, his left leg that was not healing was also Shedding a layer of dead skin as thin and hard as a shell like this... This moment is just like that moment.
But Watson was unable to feel the majestic vitality flowing through his body as before. It seemed that the current abnormality was not the result of vitality, but simply the old scars healing themselves.
"Is this the change brought about by the advancement of secret transmission? My body's recovery ability is gradually increasing. Even the wounds caused by William's fingers are recovering quickly. The wounds of flesh and blood have long been closed, and the broken bones inside are also being healed. grow.”
"If I continue at this rate, even if I don't rely on the pure vitality obtained from the forest... I estimate that my injury will heal on its own within a few days."
The improvement in self-healing ability is a positive change that is worth being happy about, but Watson has other concerns in his mind.
"Is there any price to pay for my extraordinary recovery ability? Will I gradually mutate into an inhuman-looking monster like Lance or Harris as I gradually climb up the secret transmission path?"
"The most important thing is, will this unusual recovery speed be detected by the hospital?"
While Watson was thinking about how to hide his changes, he picked up the round hole-shaped and centipede-shaped scar tissue scattered on the ground, crushed them into pieces in the palm of his hand, and flushed them away with the clatter of the toilet.
He lay back on the hospital bed and waited for the nurse to bring today's breakfast.
Perhaps it was the price of rapid self-healing, but he had a huge appetite and asked the nurse to add three meals in succession, which shocked the other party.
Whenever food enters the stomach, the intracranial cup will try to overflow and drip the juice again, but it will still be swallowed up by the fierce moth phase, transforming into another inexplicable vitality and instilling it into Watson's body, along the blood vessels. The veins flow throughout the body, penetrating into every inch of muscle.
Watson was also happy to see this. He no longer had the worry of losing control of his desire to drink. He chewed the rich and salty bacon slices, sucked the semi-solidified liquid egg yolk, drank the fresh and sweet milk, and sufficient nutrients flowed into his stomach. It is digested with extremely high efficiency and used as fuel to maintain the operation of flesh and blood.
After eating and drinking enough, he touched his round belly, got out of bed and declined the nurse's offer of support. He went downstairs alone with a cane and came to the garden inside the Royal Free Hospital.
The garden was very beautifully decorated, with roses, daffodils, tulips, rosettes, peonies and some bright flowers that he couldn't identify. The flower fields set off the colorful open-air courtyard inside the hospital.
There is even a tall tree planted in the courtyard. Under the careful care of the gardening workers, even in the bleak late autumn, the canopy of the tree, which is like a big umbrella, is still lush and green, and the hospitalized patients feel the same when they see it. It's pleasing to the eye and enough to improve your mood, relieve stress and relieve pain.
The sunshine rarely broke through the blockage of dark clouds, and its brilliance was like flowing gold splashing in the garden. Those patients who had been immobile for a long time slowly walked into the courtyard with the help of nurses, enjoying the long-lost autumn light.
But Watson recalled the gloomy East London that seemed to never see the sun. The turbid industrial smoke seemed to be spitting ink into the sky, making the clouds deeper and darker, and even the ground was dyed like a coal mine. Seemingly dark...
The people there and the people here... although they all live in the same city in name, they seem to live in different worlds.
But compassion and empathy are not Watson's characteristics, and this kind of compassion for others was instantly forgotten by him.
He was sitting alone on a bench in a corner of the garden. There happened to be a pillar of sunlight shining down here. He could enjoy this warm light as much as he wanted. His body, which had not tasted the sunshine for a long time, was soaked in the light, and his broken bones seemed to Like plants absorbing light and growing vigorously.
A magnetic voice interrupted Watson's solitude.
"Excuse me, sir, can we share this rare sunshine with you?"
The person who spoke was a gentle and elegant middle-aged man. He wore a pair of gold-rimmed glasses, his hair was meticulously combed, and he was wearing a decent casual suit.
He was pushing a wheelchair, and sitting in the chair was a little girl with unusually pale hair and skin.
The girl's facial features are particularly delicate, her eyes, nose, lips, and ears... all reveal an alien beauty that doesn't seem to exist in the human world, like a flawless doll... Her beauty seems particularly unreal.
There was no blood at all under the girl's crystal clear skin, she was as pale as snow, and her beautiful emerald eyes were dull. She slumped quietly in the wheelchair, motionless, like... a corpse.
If Watson hadn't been able to smell the faint human scent underneath the other person, and discovered that the other person's lifeless eyes were slightly fluctuating with joy after seeing the sunlight, he would probably have thought it was a carefully carved doll.
"Of course!" Watson said, moving his body to make room for half a ray of sunlight, enough for the middle-aged man to push his wheelchair in.
"Thank you very much!" The middle-aged man pushing the wheelchair nodded sincerely and slowly pushed the wheelchair into the sunshine.
The golden light shone on the fair-skinned girl, and she seemed to be glowing with golden light. The golden light flowed in her hair, and the corners of her still mouth seemed to be raised slightly, as if she was smiling.
When the middle-aged man witnessed this scene, his green pupils behind his lenses became moist. He gently touched the girl's head and couldn't help but choked up: "Anna..."
When the girl named Anna heard her name, her eyelids blinked several times, and her thin, boneless fingers tapped rhythmically on the armrest of the wheelchair.
Watson could tell it was basic Morse code, meaning 'thank you'.
He smiled slightly, nodded towards the little girl, and replied, "You're welcome."
The middle-aged man was a little surprised when he heard this sentence. He looked at the strange man seriously. He felt some familiar characteristics from the other man's straight waist and resolute eyes - that is what he often sees from The iron-blooded demeanor he witnessed in his assistant.
This seems to be a trustworthy and reliable man... He thought as he held out a friendly hand.
"My name is Winfrey Morgan, what is my name for this gentleman?"
The meeting between the second leader and Watson seemed a bit unexpected, and the author wanted to try to write a leader who was both an enemy and a friend.
I almost forgot something important. The character of Anna was inspired by the book friend "Bloody Night Shift", and I slightly modified it.