Chapter 97 Being Lifted Up

He became more and more excited as he talked, and Gin, unable to bear it any longer, covered his mouth, physically interrupting his rambling.

Bertrand's subtle glance: _

Just as he pulled Gin's hand away, Vodka came over with food.

After a quick dinner, Bertrand was sent to bed.

Upstairs in his room, Bertrand leaned out the window and watched as the model worker and his driver continued off to 007.

He smacked his lips, thought for a moment, then turned off the light and crawled into bed.

After stroking the fluffy cat-shaped handbag, Bertrand held it in his arms, closed his eyes, and fell into a deep sleep.

He was half asleep when he vaguely heard the sound of rain pouring down outside. His mind was blank from sleep, so he squinted and thought for a few moments, then pulled the blanket up and pulled his head back under the covers to go back to sleep.

Ah, sleeping in the rain is one of the most comforting things...

Snore snore...

He was lifted up.

Bertrand was being held by Gin, his head and limbs hanging limply, but he kept clutching Gin's bag.

"stand up."

Gin shook him.

"Hmm...?" Bertrand rubbed his sleepy eyes, looked up at Gin with a blank expression, stared blankly for a few seconds with his silver hair sticking up, then covered his mouth with his hand and yawned widely, his light green eyes instantly filled with saline solution.

He blinked, wiped away his tears, and said in a slightly slurred voice, still a little groggy from just waking up, "What's wrong, Koto-chan..."

Gin stared at him expressionlessly, but his dark green eyes were icy cold, and his wolf-like gaze revealed a chilling and fierce killing intent that sent shivers down one's spine.

"Shirley ran away."

His tone was sinister, with a hint of anger, and a sinister smirk seemed to be playing on his lips.

Even vodka would be frightened by his appearance, but Bertrand, who was being carried by him, was completely unfazed and even yawned a second time.

Bertrand rubbed his eyes, his half-open eyes filled with drowsiness, his voice still muffled, "Didn't you say she couldn't escape..."

Gin paused for a moment, then said coldly, "I never said that."

"Hmm, why don't you go find it yourself? Why do you have to drag me up like this..." Bertrand hugged the cat-shaped handbag he was also carrying, unzipped it, rummaged around inside, and pulled out a dead leaf butterfly, handing it to Gin.

"Hey, this is a tracker."

Gin glanced at him, then turned him around so he could look out the window.

Bertrand stared out the window groggily for a few seconds before snapping out of it and becoming much more alert. "Oh, it's raining today!"

He wrinkled his nose, his distress evident.

"It's completely useless on rainy days! They really know how to pick their days."

He puffed out his cheeks in dissatisfaction, then slapped Gin's arm. "Put me down."

Gin released his grip on his clothes, told him to hurry up, and left the room.

Although Bertrand agreed verbally, he lingered for a long time before finally leaving the room.

He changed into a black shirt and shorts, with a silver chain hanging from them. A blood-red cat's-eye stone was faintly visible behind his collar. He wore black leather boots and a sock fastening ring on his right leg.

My cat-shaped crossbody bag, which I never parted with, has somehow turned into a black, fluffy thing.