So these people pushed the protagonist into the room, and the protagonist almost rolled down the stairs in the middle. The bones on his knees were clearly visible, and the small piece of flesh hanging next to him also bleeds again.

"It's annoying." One of the servants kicked him.

Rong Wan frowned, and his face darkened a bit. The subordinates and subordinates next to him didn't know what happened. They only thought that the general was in a bad mood, so they didn't dare to go up and get bad luck.

But the three of them turned their backs to him, how could they know that his expression was extremely ugly.

Because Rong Wan remembered that after the perverted admiral Zhu Jing brought the protagonist back to the mansion to be tortured, the biggest torture did not come from him. Because he was busy with business, how could he have so much time to find a little slave to vent?

Instead, the biggest torture came from the servants and subordinates in the house-these people did not treat slaves as human beings, and often beat and scolded the slaves to vent.

He has just brought the protagonist home, and some servants dare to treat the protagonist like this in front of him. After that, he went to the royal family and left the protagonist at home alone. Is that okay?

In the past, Zhu Jing had always paid no attention to the trivial matters between servants and slaves, but now Rong Wan can't care so much anymore.

With a gloomy face, he walked over quickly.

The three servants only felt a chill behind them, and they didn't know what was going on, when they were violently opened from behind by the admiral, slammed against the wall, and almost became them when they rolled down the stairs. They were startled, and had no idea how they had angered the admiral, so they knelt down and begged for mercy like crazy.

Rong Wan didn't want to target them.

He stared at the protagonist on the ground. The other party was breathing heavily, and the void opened his thin and pale fingers, which were strangely shaped, trying to grab the handrail and get up with difficulty. But the hands are still locked by the chain magnets, and any movement is futile.

The protagonist's leg is broken before being offered in prison, and he can't stand up. The struggle was ugly, terrifying and painful.

He raised his head, his scarlet eye filled with hatred—

Rong Wan couldn't help being stunned for a second, but with this second of hesitation, his right brain was punished, and the pain was so severe that his brain was about to burst.

He cursed inwardly, then bent down quickly, picked up the protagonist's crippled leg with one hand, and put his other arm around the protagonist's arm and picked him up. The whole process is very short, very

easy

, after all, the protagonist is now so thin that he can easily be held in his arms by him.

"Go away." With a cold expression, he said to the servants behind him.

The servants were so shocked that they fled in a tumultuous manner. There are many servants and subordinates in the yard, all of them are unbelievable! What happened to their general? How could you treat a slave so kindly? He has always been a clean freak, let alone picking up a filthy slave, he even wears gloves when he gets close to a slave!

What's going on now? Could it be that there is something special about this slave?

But the slave—

It doesn't look like anything special, it even looks like an untamable monster!

The slave was held in his arms by Rong Wan, so shocked that he forgot to struggle.

His only remaining intact eyeball turned stiffly, his eyes fell on his messy body mottled with blood scabs, and then on the admiral's meticulously tailored uniform. The contrast between the high and the dirty is too obvious. But he smelled the breath of this person in his nose, it was hot, with a straight-forward aura, as if to scald the person—

...This person actually hugged him?

It's just a bed bug and a stinky mouse that everyone shouted and beaten in the sewer. Isn't this person too dirty?

Jin Zhao was as stiff as an iron plate. Even though he still thought that this was just a different kind of gentle illusion before Admiral Zhu Jing tortured him, he still couldn't restrain himself, and the hand that was hanging down gently scratched, as if he was trying to grab something.

He had never experienced the feeling of being hugged. So even for the charity before the storm, he temporarily put down his guard.

He knew he was ridiculous.

He stared at the bricks on the ground, a dull look on his pale sick face.

Was carried into a clean room step by step. There was a blood clot in his throat and he was stiff.

The author has something to say: Rong Wan: I am such a clever little ghost!

Jin Zhao: Ow!

Forgot to mention, the new article will randomly send out red envelopes, until 222 are sent out. They are all old readers who know each other, why don't you try your luck?

Chapter 5 The Experiment is Disfigured and Poor

Rong Wan frowned and rescued the protagonist from the slaves, in order to get rid of the horse next time, so that those people would not dare to bully the protagonist.

Originally, he was worried that this approach would violate the character of Admiral Zhujing, but he finally breathed a sigh of relief until he walked into the room with the protagonist in his arms.

It seemed that the group of servants didn't understand Zhu Jing at all, they just thought that the general was so perverted that it was possible to do crazy things.

As soon as Rong Wan entered the room, he was taken aback by the luxury of General Zhu Jing. It was exactly as described in the original text, and it was restored exactly!

Thick Impressionist murals, priceless glassware, and even the sheets on the bed are all made of bright red velvet—

A human skull hanging on the wall made Rong Wan even more frightened.

The perverted general is really perverted!

Even Rong Wan had never seen such a luxurious style, let alone the slave in his arms.

Zhao Zhao was in a trance. The room is huge, and there is even sunlight coming in from the floor-to-ceiling windows, falling on the ground to create warm colors. He was placed gently on the bed, which was clean and soft, unrealistically soft, without the icy dampness of the sharp, muddy prison floor.

He suspected that he was dreaming.

He sat there stiffly, feeling out of place in the room, as if the weapon used to kill had been carefully covered with a velvet blanket. It didn't make sense at all.