But What did the Novelist do Wrong?

1

Chapter 1

    'Patta'

    drops of liquid formed pearl chains and merged into a small stream, landed from the edge of the table, splashed high water, and landed on the face of the boy who was curled up next to him.

    "Uh... um..."

    Qingchi Lianyang was woken up by the continuous sound of water droplets and the cold splash on his face.

    He struggled to open his eyes, but his dull blue-green pupils were as disintegrated as a dead person's.

    The fuzzy white and black are scattered into abstract color blocks, covering the retina, and everything can only be seen as a general outline.

    His head hurts...

    He raised his hand and felt the source of the pain between the cold hair. The wound had stopped bleeding, so it should be just a scrape.

    Qingchi Lianyang heaved a sigh of relief, he couldn't see clearly, probably because he was pushed to the ground before and hit his head against a hard object.

    However, the impact may cause a slight concussion, and I need to find a place to do an examination when I recover. NSAIDs for minor concussions should be available at general pharmacies.

    "Hmm..."

    Qingchi Lianyang took a little effort and turned his head to the direction of the ticking sound. A square with edges and corners appeared in sight instead of the floor, and he judged that it was a wooden dining table.

    He was originally lying on his side with his back to the dining table.

    Qingchi Lianyang turned over and lay flat, successfully put his head under the dining table, but also moved himself from the edge of the pool of blood to the center, his upper body was completely soaked in the pool of blood.

    Such cool blood.

    At least one hour away from the human body.

    Dragging the blessing lying flat, Aoki Lianyang could see the thing protruding from the table closer.

    One was a semicircle next to the dining table, and the other was a long cylinder hanging down, only two fists away from his face.

    arm?

    The silhouette is kind of like that.

    That semicircle is the human head.

    No wonder there was so much blood, the rubber pad on the leg of the table next to his was terribly frayed. If someone dies on it, the blood will indeed be poured obediently along the height difference like in a blood tank.

    The boy whose snow-white hair was soaked in blood thought calmly, he had basically recovered his ability to think.

    The long black eyelashes fluttered a few times, and then opened again. Those blue and green pupils, which were the same color as the gallbladder of a poisonous snake, finally peeled off the obscuring haze and regained their clarity.