[MTL, BL] There Must Be Something Wrong with My Krypton Game

1.28

Will he come back?

Young Master Wutiao grew up so big that he understood what "uneasy" was.

He was honestly locked up at home for a week of "confinement", he didn't sneak out and didn't act like a demon, got up early to exercise and went to bed early, ate three meals a day normally, and occasionally complimented the maid, so honestly, the council asked him to talk to him again. , asked around the corner if he had any other needs.

The subtext is - are you not sick?

Wutiaowu: "..."

Wutiaowu: "I want to go back to class."

Council: "?"

Wutiaowu: "But I still have to live at home, I don't care, you can find a way." The

old men breathed a sigh of relief.

...oh, it's him.

Still unreasonable.

Master Gojo was doing well, but that person never showed up again. One week, two weeks, three weeks...

A month later, Gojo Satoru became restless again.

He started to ignore anyone with a stinky face again, skip classes and hang out with no purpose, and later developed into not going to school at all, losing his temper, shutting himself in the room, burying his head in sleep, and refusing to eat.

On the third day of Master Gojo's hunger strike, the sliding door was pushed open as the sun went down.

He buried his head in the quilt. In fact, he saw someone coming from outside the door long ago. He coughed twice, pretending to be reserved, and stroked his sleepy hair.

He opened the quilt, intending to have a perfect goodbye -

then, saw the man open the drawer by the bed.

Inside was the wreckage of a large pile of pudding packaging.

Fresh out of the oven, ironclad proof.

Wutiaowu: "..."

Wutiao Wu vowed: "Can pudding be considered a meal? No, yes, no."

Seeing that the hunger strike plan was about to roll over, Wujiao Wu tutted, and simply put down his body, intending to mess around, "I don't care! You come at least once a week, or I will Hunger strike - I will only eat pudding instead of food in the future!"

They looked at each other.

Speechless.

The air was silent.

After a while - the man still turned around.

"Hey!!" Master Wujo was anxious, he sat up and went to pull the man's clothes.

"Please." Grabbing the fabric with his fingers, he whispered, "...Please."

He opened his mouth, but he didn't say the words "don't go" in the end.

Maybe it's because he didn't say it.

The fabric slipped from his fingertips, and the man finally left.

The door was empty, only the blood-colored sunset fell on the clouds.

At that moment, Gojo Satoru felt that there was something empty in his chest.

He took a deep breath, raised his hand and ruffled his hair, first annoyed, then irritable, then angry, and finally powerless and sad.

Long-lasting negative emotions are compressed into a rich black color, which the body naturally converts into magic power, but it radiates out continuously and uncontrollably.