Transmigrated Female Support: Male God, Addicted to Teasing

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She tilted her head and waited quietly for a few seconds.

Watching the child wrapped in a robe squat in the same place and refused to move, he hooked his lips and waved his hand, "Well, then I'm gone ~ I hope to see you again tomorrow night, you still have the strength to say this ~

Little Dyson looked up sharply, only to have time to see the witch's back on a broom.

Under the night sky, it soon disappeared.

He sucked in the red nose, and his tears fell again. He wiped it again and again, not at all.

So he embarrassed himself and gave up, and a kind of grievance was abandoned in his heart.

Why can she turn around and leave without mercy, does she really hate humans so much?

However, she should be a beautiful and kind witch.

In a small house with bright lights, the boy weakly opened his swollen eyes and shivered and asked, "Is it raining?"

Something wet seemed to hit his face and fell on his dry and cracked mouth.

"What about salty ..."

"Woo woo Joel, don't die!"

"Joel, hold on, we will take you to the doctor!"

A group of equally skinny children, Joel crying around in the middle.

Joel shook his head hard. "Don't ... your father will kill you ..."

"But, then you will die!" The youngest girl cried with her face covered, "I miss home, miss my parents!"

Yeah, who does n’t want to?

A group of children fell into contemplation, the room was strangely quiet, exuding silent despair.

Little Dyson's emerald green eyes were a little confused. He stood up, but found that he was standing on the high roof.

Without the witch, he didn't even know how to go on.

Suddenly a burst of anger broke out in the room, "Who is above the house ?!"

"Ah ..." Little Dyson's eyes widened in horror, his pupils kept shrinking.

He stepped back in a panic two steps, and the man gave him a sense of fear far deeper than the witch.

But because the roof was full of tiles, stepped on one foot, slipped and rolled down instantly.

At the moment of falling, Little Dyson's brain was blank, and in his ear was the sound of a man's violent thunder, and he saw the man picking up a stick from outside the window.

"When I catch you, see me not killing you thief!"

How to do? Is he dying?

Dyson closed his eyes in horror, he promised his mother to live well, but it seemed that he couldn't do it--

He thought his head would fall and he would break the blood, maybe he would not die immediately, but would be caught by the man. The thick stick will knock him hard.

In the end, he would have the same death method as the boy named Joel.

The little boy was thinking about something in a mess.

Suddenly his body lightened, and the imaginary pain did not come. He fell into a embrace with a fragrant grass.

Soft and sweet.

"Huh, look, my great hero, left me, you can't even keep your own life."

The witch mocked him with her usual lazy tone with a disdainful tone.

But Dyson didn't mind these at all. He just stretched out his short arms and hugged the witch's neck tightly.

This time, instead of crying, he quietly bent his eyes in her arms.

"Stinky boy, don't put your nose on my skirt! Beware of eating you!"