I am creating a esoteric religion in London

Chapter 71

When the coachman X211 sent Miss Holmes back to the luxurious manor in the suburbs, the sky gradually brightened, and Watson also finished his daily morning exercises.

Although his shoulder is injured and his left arm cannot be lifted, the other three limbs are still strong. Always lying on the bed will only lead to muscle decline and slow down the nerve response. He will always use his own weight to complete the work quietly in the ward before the morning arrives. A series of basic training to ensure that the combat ability will not be reduced due to prolonged hospitalization.

The unhealed left shoulder always took advantage of this opportunity to burst into severe pain, trying to hinder the progress of morning exercises, trying to wear down his consciousness.

There is a tearing pain between the flesh and bone movement, and the sweat flowing through the stitched scar seems to be pouring spicy liquid... These intense pains are originally warnings from the physical body that cannot bear the exercise, but this Zhongliang warns the pain nerve signal transmission When it reaches Watson's mind, it is like mellow and sweet nectar.

This made the blade and cup in his skull happy, and some accumulation of practicing the principles was enough.

A part of the scriptures of the Secret Biography of the Blade trembled like a sword neighing, shaking off the decayed and rusty shell, blooming a sharp edge, which pierced deep into Watson's bone marrow, a kind of iron-like The hard color of the mortal flesh is gradually staining.

A part of the scriptures of the secret transmission of the cup is also like a green fruit that is ripe and plump, and the swollen and cracked peel is flowing out of sweet juice, which is about to drip down the flesh of a mortal...but it is suddenly sucked by the greedy moth. caught in its belly.

The moth in the skull drank the sweet liquid in the cup, fluttered its wings happily, sprinkled dots of scales like silver powder between the wings, and the scales naturally fell and took root in the mortal body. The quaint breath circulates throughout the body.

Watson felt his flesh itching, especially in some areas of the body surface. He opened his clothes and saw that the abnormal itching came from the scars he had left in the war in Afghanistan.

The inside of these fibrous connective tissues seems to be bitten by mosquitoes, it seems that the flesh and blood underneath are wriggling, it seems that something is eager to come out of the body.

He couldn't help scratching vigorously, trying to cover up the difficult itching with a strong sense of pain... Unexpectedly, with just a little touch, the gunshot scars like round holes on the surface of the body fell off, as if abandoned by cicadas. The remains of his body, his old skin due to injuries were also thrown off.

He simply took off all his clothes, wiped all the faintly itchy parts of his body, stroked them lightly with his palms, and all the old scars fell off easily, revealing the new, slightly transparent skin underneath.

This scene reminded Watson of the first time he entered Mansu. At that time, he got the gift of fat white moth after killing Elson in the woodland. When he woke up in the morning, his unhealed left leg was also Shedding a layer of dead skin as thin as a shell like now... This moment is just like that moment.

But Watson couldn't feel the majestic vitality flowing in his body as before. It seems that the abnormality now is not the effect of vitality, but simply the old scars healed and detached.

"Is this the change brought about by esoteric teaching? My body's recovery ability is gradually increasing. Even the wound caused by William's finger strike is also recovering rapidly. The flesh and blood wound has long been closed, and the broken bones inside are also recovering. grow."

"If we continue at this speed, even if we don't rely on the pure vitality obtained from the woodland... I guess it will take a few days for my injury to heal on its own."

The improvement of self-healing ability is a positive change to be happy, but Watson has other concerns in his heart.

"Is there any price to be paid for my extraordinary recovery ability? Will I gradually mutate into an inhuman monster like Lance or Harris as the path of secret transmission gradually climbs?"

"The most important thing is, will this abnormal recovery speed be detected by the hospital?"

While thinking about how to conceal his changes, Watson picked up the round hole-shaped and centipede-shaped scar tissue scattered on the ground, crushed them all in the palm of his hand, and flushed them away with the bang of the toilet.

He lay back on the hospital bed, waiting for the nurse to bring today's breakfast.

Perhaps it was the price of quick self-healing, he had a big appetite, and asked the nurse to add three meals in succession, which shocked the other party into surprise.

Every time the intracranial cup phase has food imported into its stomach, it will try to overflow the juice again, but it is still swallowed by the fierce moth phase, which is transformed into another inexplicable vitality and infused into Watson's body, along the blood vessels The veins flow through the whole body and penetrate into every inch of muscle.

Watson is also happy to see this. He no longer has the worry of losing control of his cup desire. He chews the rich and salty bacon slices, sucks the semi-solidified fluid egg yolk, drinks fresh and sweet milk, and sufficient nutrients flow into the stomach. The extremely high efficiency is digested as the fuel to maintain the blood and flesh.

After eating and drinking enough, he touched his chubby belly, got out of bed and declined the nurse's kindness to help him, and went downstairs alone with a cane, and came to the garden inside the Royal Free Hospital.

The garden was beautifully decorated, with roses, daffodils, tulips, roses, peonies, and some bright flowers that he couldn't identify. The colorful flower fields set off the spacious 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 at this time, the crown of the tree opened like a big umbrella is still green and lush. Pleasing to the eye, enough to improve mood, relieve stress, and relieve pain.

The sun rarely broke through the blockade of the dark clouds, and the radiance was like flowing gold splashing in the garden. Those patients who had not moved for a long time all walked into the courtyard slowly with the support of the nurses, enjoying the long-lost autumn brilliance.

But Watson recalled the haze of East London, where the sun seemed to be endless. The turbid industrial smoke seemed to be spewing ink into the sky, making the clouds deeper and darker, and even the ground was stained like a coal mine. It looks dirty...

The people there and the people here... Although they both live in the same city in name, they seem to live in different worlds.

But compassion and empathy are not Watson's traits, and such thoughts of compassion and compassion are quickly forgotten by him.

He sat alone on a bench in the corner of the garden, where there happened to be a beam of sunlight, and he could occupy this ray of warm light to his heart's content. His body, which had not tasted the taste of sunshine for a long time, was soaked in the light, and his broken bones seemed to be Like grass and trees growing vigorously absorbing the light.

Watson's solitude was interrupted by a magnetic voice.

"Excuse me, sir, can we share this rare sunshine with you."

The person who spoke was a gentle and elegant middle-aged man, he was wearing a pair of gold-rimmed glasses, his hair was combed meticulously, and he was wearing a decent casual suit.

He was pushing a wheelchair, and sitting on 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 a kind of beauty that does not seem to be in the world, just like a flawless doll... Her beauty is extraordinarily unreal.

Under the girl's crystal clear skin, there was no blood at all, she was as pale as snow, and her eyes, which were as beautiful as emeralds, were also dull. She sat quietly in the wheelchair, motionless, like...a corpse.

If it wasn't for Watson's ability to smell the faint human scent beneath the other person's body, and to find the joy in the other person's lifeless gray eyes fluctuating slightly after seeing the sun, he would probably have thought it was a carefully carved doll.

"Of course!" Watson said, moving his body to make room for a half-ray of sunlight, enough for a middle-aged man to push a 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 sprinkled on the fair-skinned girl, and she also seemed to be glowing with golden light. The shining gold flowed through her hair, and the corners of her still mouth seemed to rise slightly, as if she was smiling.

The middle-aged man witnessed this scene, and his green pupils behind the glasses were also moistened. He gently stroked the top of the girl's head, and couldn't help sobbing: "Anna..."

When the girl named Anna heard her name, her eyelids blinked a few times at high frequency, and her boneless fingers tapped rhythmically on the armrest of the wheelchair a few times.

Watson could recognize it as basic Morse code, meaning 'thank you'.

He smiled and nodded towards the little girl, and replied, "You're welcome."

The middle-aged man was also a little surprised when he heard this sentence. He looked at this strange man seriously, and he felt some familiar features from his tall and straight waist and resolute eyes—that is something that can often be seen from The iron-blooded spirit I witnessed in my assistant.

This seems to be a trustworthy and reliable man... he thought so, extending a friendly palm.

"My name is Winfrey Morgan. What is the gentleman's name?"

　The meeting between the second leader and Watson seems a bit abrupt, and the author wants to try to write a leader who is both an enemy and a friend.

　　I almost forgot an important thing, the character of Anna was inspired by the book friend [Bloody Night Shift], I made a slight modification

　　
　
(End of this chapter)