A dry, low sound, like sand being rubbed, rang out; the butcher's voice was deep, yet deafening.

Yes, the butcher can talk, but he doesn't like to speak. To this day, this is only the second time that Willie has heard his voice.

Vili signaled the system to stop, turned to look at the man, and his expression was still not good.

The butcher knew perfectly well that he was a clean person, yet he still dared to smear other people's blood on himself!

That one sentence seemed to have exhausted all his strength. He looked at Vili, and the once intimidatingly tall man now seemed somewhat pitiful.

Seeing that he hadn't spoken for a long time, Willy turned his head impatiently. He was about to ask the system to continue driving back to the farm when he suddenly felt something familiar touch his arm.

Vili looked over in confusion and was shocked to find that it was the straw ring he had given to the butcher yesterday.

The flowers on it had wilted, but the grass ring itself was completely undamaged. Even though the butcher was covered in blood, the grass ring remained clean, as if he had been carefully carrying it in his bosom.

"Here...for you."

His eyes still held a hint of reluctance, but his hands moved without hesitation.

He seemed to want to give Vili his most precious possession as an apology, completely forgetting that it was just a gift from the boy.

Vili's anger vanished instantly. He stared at the grass ring for a few seconds and then let out a soft snort.

"I don't want this. You can keep it yourself."

The butcher froze on the spot.

The tall man resembled an abandoned dog; even though his face was obscured by a mask, one could sense his bewilderment and underlying aggression.

Vili pursed his lips and proactively opened the other car door.

"Why aren't you coming up?"

"We should go home."

Those two words were like magic, turning off the switch to the butcher's tyranny. He squeezed into the car door, which was too small for him, and stared at Willy with his gray-blue eyes.

He repeated Willy's words.

"go home."

-

Willie's sudden departure seemed to frighten the butcher. When he groggily opened his eyes at night, he saw a dark figure standing by the bed, staring at him intently without moving.

This person was wearing a terrifying mask, revealing only a pair of eyes that showed no emotion.

Because of Yang Er's incident, the room was splattered with blood almost everywhere. Even though the butcher had cleaned it up, the lingering smell of blood could still be smelled as soon as you stepped into the room.

So tonight, he's sleeping in the butcher's room—which is also the farm's master bedroom.

His bed was too big for Willy; lying on it, enveloped in its soft mattress, felt like being on a small boat at sea.

Insignificant.

The butcher was always worried that the other party might just disappear into thin air tomorrow.

Therefore, he gave up tonight's hunt and chose to quietly be Sleeping Beauty's guardian.

But he looked more like a vicious dog chained to the head of the bed, ready to strangle anyone who dared to trespass on his territory.

Vili tried to ignore him, but his gaze was so intense that he couldn't sleep peacefully.

By the moonlight, Vili squinted, then suddenly stuck his foot out from under the covers and kicked the man's muscular thigh.

He wasn't very strong, and the butcher wasn't pushed even a step, but the latter seemed to have suffered a huge impact and let out a muffled groan.

In fact, Willie originally intended to kick the other person in the abdomen... but he misjudged the height.

But he didn't care. Instead, he slowly moved his foot up the man's body, and when he passed a certain part, he mischievously paused for a few seconds and curled his toes.

Well... he was just curious whether the NPCs in the game would have that function?

The darkness of the night emboldened him.

The butcher froze, instinctively reaching out to grab the boy's foot, but then heard his arrogant words:

"Don't move."

Just as he had predicted, the fearsome game boss lowered his hand, but his calloused hand clenched tightly as if he couldn't bear it.

...He couldn't tell if it was torture or a reward.

It was as if a ferocious beast had awakened within him, raising its head. This was completely different from the bloodlust for killing outsiders; it was a sweeter kind of joy, yet this emotion was mixed with a dangerous desire for destruction.

He wanted to use his own hands to press down on the boy's snow-white neck and leave his bluish-purple finger marks on it...

Just like those bloody handprints.

Only in this way can the beast within be silenced from howling and whimpering, and allowed to fall into a peaceful slumber.

But in the end, just as Willie had said, he didn't move an inch.

Using the rough burlap sack as cover, he didn't reveal any of his emotions, only gazing at the boy who was enveloped in his aura.

Vili, Vili, Vili...

He murmured his name in his heart.

Is this considered a reaction or no reaction?

Vili felt an unusual bump under his feet, but the man didn't react much except for breathing heavily.

Sure enough, this mask was just too much of a hindrance.

Vili suddenly stopped what he was doing and continued upwards.

His body was very flexible, but he was still some distance away from touching the man's face; the man was simply too tall.

Feeling a cramp coming on, Willie kicked him somewhat irritably.

"bend over."

The butcher remained silent, like a puppet under the boy's control. To make it easier for the boy to move, he even knelt down beside the bed.

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