Chapter 95 I'm so pitiful
Sherry steadied herself and looked at them with a cold gaze. "What are you doing here?"
"We've come to see you!" Bertrand skipped over to her, his smile as bright as a little sun.
It's just that it's a small sun that's hard to feel warm from above.
"Shirley~ I heard you're looking for your sister?"
Bertrand looked up at her slightly.
What did you do to my sister?!
When her sister was mentioned, Shirley could barely maintain her composure, and she questioned Bertrand sharply.
Bertrand pursed his lips and hugged the cat even tighter. "So fierce..."
But the next second his mood changed again. He took a few steps back, smiling broadly, and swayed back and forth on his tiptoes, "Your sister is here with me~~"
He stopped what he was doing, pinching his chin with his fingers. "But... it's a corpse!"
Shirley froze, stunned by the sudden news. She felt like she couldn't breathe. She reached out and grabbed Bertrand's wrist. "Give me back my sister!"
Her eyes were wide open, and there seemed to be a hint of tears in them, but she held them back.
She gripped it tightly, and a faint bruise appeared on her fair wrist. Bertrand stared at it silently, and then tears welled up in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.
Large tears streamed down his cheeks and landed on the cat-shaped handbag, soaking its soft fur.
Gin noticed something was wrong and took a closer look, only to see Bertrand silently shedding tears.
He frowned and glanced at Shirley, who was gripping his wrist.
He then pulled out a gun and shot her in the arm.
Of course, the bullet only grazed her arm.
But the sudden stinging sensation made Shirley instinctively release Bertrand's hand.
She clutched her injured arm, head bowed, silent.
Gin stepped forward, pulled Bertrand along, and turned to leave. As he reached the door, his chilling, emotionless voice rang out.
"The organization doesn't lack researchers with your intelligence; it just lacks young and intelligent researchers like you."
He then glanced at the person beside him and ordered, "Put her under house arrest, and release her when she is willing to continue."
"yes."
This oppressive atmosphere made many people uneasy.
With tears still in his eyes, Bertrand turned and glanced at Sherry.
I could clearly see the hatred in her eyes, and a hint of fear hidden deep within.
He coldly shifted his gaze, lowering his head to his wrist, which had turned bluish-purple in the short time. He pursed his lips, a dark glint flashing in his clear eyes.
Back in the car, Gin glanced at the baby-faced man clutching his bag, silent and dejected. He instinctively reached for a cigarette, then looked at him coldly. "You're usually pretty good at fighting, aren't you? Why didn't you dodge this time?"
Bertrand hesitated for a moment, then a muffled voice came through his bag: "I'm so pitiful, and you're still yelling at me."
Gin: ?
"You're pitiful?"
His tone was as if he had heard the biggest joke in the world.
Bertrand shuddered again, then sighed and raised his wrist. "Look, my wrist has turned a horrible color."
I glanced at the wrist that was both blue and purple.
Gin: ...
He clicked his tongue, took out a cigarette and put it in his mouth, then stepped on the gas and drove back to the safe house, where he had Vodka apply medicine to Bertrand.
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