Chapter 36 Sorrow. He sensed the sorrow of His Holy Father. ...
Reinhardt was startled by the lion-like roar, and a drop of bright red blood hanging from his fingertip fell precisely and cleverly into the lips of the pale-faced Victoria.
Reinhardt froze for a moment, thinking Buster had misunderstood that he would do something strange to Victoria, so he clenched his fingers, wanting to explain.
Unexpectedly, Buster strode up to Reinhardt and tightly gripped his slender wrist.
"What does this mean?" The Storm Leader's voice sounded like he was brewing a new storm.
Reinhardt, who is more accustomed to dealing with unfriendly emotions, remained unusually calm.
He succinctly explained his motives, saying, "My blood seems to have restored some of the damage to Battan's body, and I suspect it can also be used to treat Victoria."
"And then you started your suicidal rescue?" Thanks to Reinhardt's poor eyesight, he didn't see the Storm Leader's face contorted with rage, otherwise he would have been quite startled.
Reinhardt disagreed with the description of this suicidal rescue, arguing, "It was just a finger; it didn't amount to suicide."
A storm was brewing, ready to unleash its fury. Madonna, who was just a wall away, heard the commotion and immediately rushed out. Her attention was instantly drawn to the brightest color in the room, and her shock was undisguised.
"What happened? My God! Reinhardt, what happened to you?! Why are you bleeding so much?!"
Reinhardt stood silently before the hospital bed. His blond hair was slightly disheveled, falling across his forehead, making his face appear even paler. Deep shadows were cast on his brow bones, and because his eyes were tightly closed, no emotion could be discerned.
His plain white robe was stained with blood, creating eerie patterns. Drops of blood trickled down the fabric, mingling with the crimson stains on the bedsheets in front of him, exuding an aura of cruelty and holiness.
Madonna roughly deduced what had happened from the series of bloodstains and the red mark on Victoria's lips. Coupled with Reinhardt's explanation earlier, she frowned, unsure of what to say for a moment.
But it doesn't matter, the atmosphere won't be awkward because of this, the Storm Leader is still preparing his ultimate fire-breathing technique.
"Why didn't you use more force? Your finger is about to break, and this blood might not even be enough for Victoria!"
No kidding, Madonna could see sparks flying from the leader's mouth as he spoke.
The storm was so angry it almost turned into a Tyrannosaurus Rex; this species transformation is truly a spectacle.
Madonna could sense the concern behind the sarcasm, but Reinhardt took it literally and actually intended to continue searching for a weapon.
The Storm Leader was so angry he laughed again, feeling like fire was shooting from his nose.
He snarled, "You do what I tell you to do? Why didn't you listen when I told you not to run around?!"
Buster was so angry that he grabbed a bandage from the side, wrapped it around the man's wrist, picked him up by the waist, and hoisted him onto his shoulder. He looked at Madonna with a stern face.
"Don't tell anyone else about this, including Celine and Victoria." Buster trusted Victoria and Celine, but he had to be wary of truth serum, so the fewer people who knew about it, the better.
After saying that, he turned around and carried Reinhardt up the steps without looking back.
Instead of returning to Reinhardt's room, Buster led him across the hall to his own private area as usual, gently tossing him onto the sofa.
Buster is a sarcastic and sarcastic person, and his specialty is making sarcastic remarks. His friends are also straightforward guys, and they never hold back when it comes to words, but no one takes it to heart.
But this little, unassuming potato in front of me won't do.
Buster realized from their past interactions and the other man's foolish behavior that Reinhardt didn't understand what a joke was or what it meant to say something insincere.
He needs the truth, he needs to be honest and speak frankly. He'll take sarcastic or insincere words to heart, even if he doesn't care, the objective harm is still real.
...
So Tyrannosaurus Rex breathed fire to suppress his emotions.
Sitting opposite Reinhardt, he leaned forward, half-covering his forehead, forcibly suppressing the anger in his heart. Reinhardt waited silently for him to speak again, and after a while, the former finally calmed down and spoke again in a composed manner.
"Try licking your wound yourself," Buster suggested, letting out a deep breath.
To test whether his blood could truly heal injuries, the readily available method was to have him lick the freshly cut wound on his finger.
Reinhardt didn't refuse. He lowered his head and pressed his slender fingers between his lips, gently licking them with his rosy tongue. The stinging sensation on his fingertips disappeared after a period of itching and soreness.
It seems to be better. Reinhardt gently stroked the pad of his index finger with the pad of his thumb, then spread it out to show Buster.
The Storm Leader's gaze swept over the undamaged fingers, and the next second, he took out a small knife from his spatial ring and cut his palm.
He then sheathed the blade and grasped Reinhardt's wrist with his still clean and intact hand.
Buster pulled him to the front of him without much effort, then bent down and licked Reinhardt's blood-stained palm.
The humid heat and unfamiliar touch startled the handsome man with his hair down. He unconsciously curled his fingers, but was forced to stop because of the other person's overly forceful restraint.
The Storm Leader, focused on his healing wounds, failed to notice the ambiguous nature of their posture; his furrowed brows revealed only worry that his suspicions might be confirmed.
Blood is indeed effective.
Moreover, it works very quickly; a wound of about ten centimeters can be healed with just a little blood.
Is this the power of the gods?
Not only does divine power have healing effects, but it also imbues flesh and blood with life.
Buster frowned as he thought this, but somehow his gaze drifted to Reinhardt's lips, which were still stained with blood.
Saliva might also be effective.
...
Once a concept is formed, the mind begins to wander, conjuring up thoughts and images that have never occurred to him before.
Reinhardt's lips became the main compositional element of the image. Buster's uncontrollable mind conjured up an unfamiliar scene of the son of God, with lowered eyes and a tongue that slowly licked the wound on his palm.
His long, golden hair cascaded down naturally, and as light streamed into the room, his strands seemed to be kissed by a soft halo, shimmering with a hazy, warm glow. His pristine white dress resembled a sacred robe, yet it wasn't overly solemn or luxurious. The white silk scarf draped around his neck and shoulders was as gentle as falling moonlight, and the touch of vibrant color served as an embellishment, noticeable yet not jarring.
strangeness.
The Storm Leader felt a slight itch and stinging sensation in his calloused palms, and a strange heat traveled through his veins to his heart, which then began to pound violently after a brief pause.
I can't quite describe the feeling, but I felt parched and a small fire burning inside me.
It was hot, but it didn't seem like anger; at least he had no intention of causing Reinhard any more trouble.
But the inexplicable restlessness made him particularly irritable. Buster scratched the back of his head and decided not to think about it for the time being.
He looked up at the little stewed potato sitting obediently on the sofa, waiting for his 'fate', and sighed, "Don't let anyone else know about this, and don't use it casually. If your blood's healing ability is exposed, countless humans and other creatures will fight over you and eat you up."
"Also, I wasn't trying to get angry at you just now. No, I did want to get angry, but I didn't mean for you to actually cut your finger. I was just being sarcastic. Don't do what I say next time."
Buster was at his wit's end, and in less than a day, he actually apologized twice.
They all said it willingly, but if word got out, his authority as the leader of the Storm would be completely destroyed.
sad.
For the first time, the Storm Leader experienced sorrow, especially after hearing Reinhardt's distinctive stomach rumble.
He sensed the sorrow of His Holy Father.
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Author's Note: Madonna: Hahahaha, this is so funny! Reinhardt has trained the leader into a fire-breathing Tyrannosaurus Rex!
Buster [angry]: Try laughing again?
Reinhardt asked sincerely: Isn't Tyrannosaurus Rex good?
Buster immediately stopped talking: ...It's not bad either.
Madonna (turning her head away): Tsk, why do I feel so uncomfortable? It's like a cabbage being eaten by a pig.
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[Angry] He's already such a clueless brat even before he's figured it out, what will he be like once he's figured it out!
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