TuTu scratched his cheek: "When WeiAn found out I could come too, he was already 'cutting down trees' in anger."
"Cut down trees?" The doctor caught a glimpse of this new term.
Tutu nodded: "It is the physical manifestation of our will. Wei'an wants to devour the madman and Chang Le. The madman is about to have a relapse because of him."
The doctor chuckled: "If he's willing, I don't mind having another person to chat with."
TuTu was overjoyed: "That's great, I'll go find him."
The doctor stared at the closed door, and after a moment, covered his lips and chuckled softly: "What a lovely child."
The doctor took off his glasses.
As the glasses left, the neat black short hair turned into long, silky white hair that cascaded down, and the eyes behind the lenses were like flowing gold. The face that was once unremarkable suddenly became exquisitely beautiful, and it was impossible to tell whether the person was male or female.
The doctor turned to a new page: "Well, it looks like the next one is a naughty child."
As soon as he finished speaking,
"Bang!"
"Bang—"
The door was kicked open, slammed against the wall, bounced back, and slammed shut. In the brief moment it closed, the person outside burst in.
The doctor had put his glasses back on at some point, pretending to be an ordinary person.
The figure rushed forward like a whirlwind, braced himself on the table with one hand, spun around, and launched a flying kick that sent a whistling wind straight toward the doctor's head.
"Smack!"
Three slender fingers firmly pinched the incoming ankle.
The doctor easily pulled him up, meeting a pair of blood-red, menacing eyes. His bright golden medium-length hair was disheveled, and his plain gauze robe hung on the table, covered with terrifying blood-red eyes and hoopoes painted on it.
As the doctor examined the patient, a low growl, like that of a wild beast, escaped his throat. Then, with his other hand, he pulled a dagger from the strap of the leg that was supporting him on the table and slashed at the doctor's throat.
The doctor leaned back slightly to dodge the dagger, grabbed the man's wrist, and then stood up.
With his left hand gripping his wrist and his right hand gripping his ankle, he gave a sudden jerk.
Like shaking out a folded bed sheet before unfolding it, throw it all over the table with a "thump," like a pancake spread out.
Before he could struggle, the doctor reached out and pressed down on his cervical spine: "Hmm?"
He paused for a moment, then simply lay down and laughed like a pervert: "Come on, kill me, kill me, kill me, hehehehe..."
The doctor reached out and pulled out a white thread, quickly binding his hands and feet before placing him on the sofa.
The doctor righted the overturned empty cup, sat up straight, and picked up his pen: "Alright, now, little lion, our conversation officially begins."
"I have my own name! Call me that again and I'll kill you!" He struggled, but when he realized he couldn't break free even with his wrists bleeding, he stopped.
The doctor said "Oh," and then asked, "So, may I ask, who are you?"
"The tactic of using reverse psychology is low-level! But I'm willing to tell you."
His blood-red eyes habitually looked at people from a slightly downward angle, making him appear sinister, and his voice was also hoarse.
Even with his hands and feet bound, he couldn't stay still, so he simply turned around, put his legs on the armrests, leaned his back against the other armrest, and curled up in the sofa. After adjusting his position, he glanced sideways at the doctor and began to speak:
"My name is Wei An, I am 27 years old, male, and human."
"I am the 'Destroyer,' the 'Slayer,' the 'Damage Dealer,' you can also call me 'Revenge,' 'Wrath,' or 'Slaughter,' call me whatever you want, because in the end, no one will be left in this world!"
The doctor calmly wrote everything down and continued, "Please elaborate on your responsibilities."
Wei An's face showed disgust, but then he suddenly broke into a wide grin: "My duty is the greatest thing in the world—killing!"
"When this body faces a devastating threat, or when there is a need to release all the negative emotions in my heart, I, Wei An, the embodiment of anger and revenge, will appear and perfectly perform the killing act!"
Uneasy, lost in self-admiration, suddenly reverted to a look of disgust:
"What a pity! The others don't understand my art at all! Especially Ye Buqi! She actually sees me as a huge threat, suppressing me and preventing me from expressing my true nature. I will kill her sooner or later! Sooner or later, I will let Chang Le know how intoxicating this is!"
Ignoring his unnecessary words, the doctor continued, "Tell me about your origins and experiences."
Wei An twitched the corner of her lips, lazily closed her eyes, and refused to answer.
The doctor adjusted his glasses and suddenly asked, "Do you know how to get Chang Le to recognize and accept your art?"
Wei An suddenly opened her eyes and sat up abruptly: "You know?"
The doctor chuckled and placed the three paintings on the table: "Paintings, messages, psychological suggestion... It's impressive that you thought of so many methods. Good methods, but unfortunately..."
Wei An asked eagerly, "What's a pity?"
The doctor didn't answer, but instead asked, "If Chang Le were also addicted to killing, what would you do?"
"Huh?" Wei An sneered, saying matter-of-factly, "Of course, it's to get her to agree to merge with me, then eliminate all the other eyesores, and thoroughly carry out the killing spree, completely destroying this disgusting world!!"
The doctor wrote something: "Hmm, it seems you are carrying memories of hatred and anger."
"I already said it! I'm driven by 'revenge' and 'rage'!"
The doctor nodded: "Yes, then I think Chang Le's first time of complete anger was when you were born, that is—when Chang Le was ten years old, the time when Shen Fuguang was seriously injured in the Northern Ruins."
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