Judicial Doctor, Wild Princess

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A few people frowned as they searched in all directions. Finally, they found a trail in the forest.

They found a pile of broken corpses and barely recognized them.

The boss gave the order, and not only these two heads, the rest of the intestines, including the limbs, were all gathered together and placed into a pot to boil.

He walked quickly and hurriedly. His backpack was still oozing blood, and inside it was a large pile of human meat that he had shaved off. He only had to wait until it was safe before he could take it out to eat.

Now that he thought about it, shouldn't he already be far away from those people?

Just as he was thinking this in his heart, the sound of delicate footsteps suddenly rang in his ears.

"Damn it!" The little boy cursed and did not dare to stay any longer. He crawled up and continued to run.

In fact, he had heard footsteps behind him after he had killed him, which was why he had been running and running, but those footsteps were like a shadow following him, and he could still hear them no matter how long he ran and how far he ran.

Were those people really not planning on letting him go?

That's right, he had killed two of his brothers, so of course they would not let him off. The little boy gritted his teeth.

Taking a deep breath, he gathered his strength and continued to run. This time, he ran for another two hours, until his forehead was covered in sweat, his lips were pale, and his face was ashen.

The sound of footsteps appeared again, right behind him. Slowly, slowly, they approached him.

The little boy closed his eyes and clenched his fists. His face was filled with unwillingness, but he no longer had the strength to run. He thought, after getting caught this time, he would definitely be miserable.

But what else could he do?

This was his life. The heavens had given him this life, he had been tormented since birth. The heavens did not like him, so they wanted him dead. What could they do?

Could it be that people could fight to the death?

As the footsteps drew closer and closer, the boy thought, if, he meant if, someone could save him now, he was willing to do whatever that person wanted him to do, no matter what the price, he was willing to do it.

As long as he could survive.

His life was cheap, but he didn't want to be cheap!

The sound of footsteps came closer. The little boy collapsed on the ground. Just now, he had twisted his ankle. His ankle had already become swollen. He curled himself into a ball and trembled all over. However, he did not open his eyes.

He didn't dare open his eyes at all.

"Are you alright?" A cool voice sounded from behind him.

It was a voice that he had never heard before.

The boy could clearly tell that this voice was not that of one of the refugees, but rather, a child's voice.

There were many children among the group of refugees. However, the voices of the children were different. The voices were especially pleasing to the ears. "It's … the … the … the … the … the … the … the … the … the … the … the … the … the … the … the … the … the … the … the … the … the … the … the … the … the … the … the … the … the … the …".

The little boy opened his eyes with much difficulty. He carefully turned his head to look behind him, and when he did, he was completely stunned.

Behind him stood a boy wearing coarse hemp. He was about the same age as himself, but his face was cleaner than his own. Oh, not only his face, his skin and hair were all better than his own.

The little boy felt that although this person was dressed in low-quality clothes, his facial features were exquisite, white and tender. He was clearly the young master of some family.

However, there was something strange about this young master. He had a wooden pole in his hand, and his eyes were closed.

The little boy did not dare to be careless. He looked left and right to make sure that there was no one else in the surroundings before sitting up. He pointed at the tip of his nose in astonishment and asked, "You … are you talking to me? "

The young master tilted his head, feeling that his question was very strange. He asked, "Who else is here besides you?"

The boy looked into his eyes and blinked.

The little young master seemed to know what he was suspecting and did not say anything. He simply tapped the ground in front of him with the wooden pole. After confirming that there were no obstacles, he slowly squatted down and stretched out his hand towards the little boy.

The boy was stunned and reflexively retreated. "What are you doing?" As he spoke, he held two short blades in his hands.

The young master did not move as he said lightly, "You're injured."

The boy looked at his swollen ankle and asked, "How do you know?" As he spoke, he looked into the eyes of the young master.

The young master said, "I'm blind, but my nose is still there." As he spoke, he sat on the ground and stretched out his hand to the boy, "Where are you hurt? Let me touch it."

The little boy was very wary of this young master who had suddenly appeared in the forest. He hesitated and even switched positions with his knife, ready to kill this man at any time and shave his meat for food.

The boy did not move for a long time. Finally, the young master impatiently said, "The smell of blood is very heavy. You are severely injured. Don't delay any longer, let me see."

The smell of blood?

The little boy looked at his own feet. Although his feet were sprained, there was absolutely no blood on them. The smell of blood was not little, and in the bag on his back, there was also a pile of bloody meat.

So this was what he meant.

The little boy sneered. He thought, such a stupid person, living in this disaster would be a waste. He could just send him off and exchange him for a few meals.

"My wounds are on my feet. My feet are dirty so don't dirty your hands. Don't worry about me. We don't know each other anymore. Just let me die. If I don't have enough to eat every day, I don't want to live."

As the little boy spoke, his hand that was holding onto the short knife approached the young master soundlessly. It seemed as if he was already at the young master's neck.

As long as he slashed downwards, he would be able to cut open his neck. It was as simple as killing a chicken.

The little boy steeled his heart. The blade in his hand quickly went down, but in the nick of time, he heard the young master ask, "Are you hungry?"

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