General Attack] Daily routine of cannon fodder drilling (high H, np)

82

The nightmarish end of the month is about to pass, who knows! To overthrow and redo something that I worked so hard on makes me want to cry T_T

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As Han Changfeng finished speaking, Mitchell's butt was lightly tapped by a big hand. Mitchell's hair instantly exploded and he looked at Han Changfeng angrily.

Han Changfeng looked back innocently, was he right?

Mitchell turned away and stopped looking at him. Judging from several experiences, Han Changfeng was absolutely right. For the first time, Mitchell began to be angry at his weak body.

"That's nice to say."

Mitchell still had a cold face and was not moved at all by Han Changfeng. Han Changfeng scratched his head, he was the stupidest, and he didn't know what to say now.

"What I said is real."

Han Changfeng hugged Mitchell aggrievedly. His cock, which had been dry for three days, touched the soft ass. He immediately became energetic. He stood up straight and greeted Han Changfeng.

"you!"

Feeling the hard object against him, Mitchell glanced at Han Changfeng. Mitchell's face turned rosy with anger.

Maybe Mitchell didn't realize it, but the system on the side saw it clearly. He still had a bit of the godfather's decisiveness in killing him, and he looked like he was falling in love.

"If that doesn't work, I still have my hands. I don't believe I can't satisfy you."

Mitchell squeezed Han Changfeng's cock, but still refused to give in. After saying this, Han Changfeng didn't know how to comfort him, and silently told the system that the mission had failed.

The system took a look at Mitchell's favorability score and made no reply.

Han Changfeng thought the system had slipped away and didn't care. However, seeing Han Changfeng's silence, Mitchell's initially warm mood fell again.

"Put me back!"

Mitchell spoke coldly, but Han Changfeng did not refute, and silently put Mitchell in the wheelchair. At this time, the doctor also happened to rush over.

"I'll give you some more time to think. Trust me, you won't go wrong by choosing me."

Mitchell spoke confidently, then pushed the wheelchair out and disappeared from Han Changfeng's sight.

The doctor sprayed the medicine on Han Changfeng's wound. Han Changfeng watched quietly as his hand was wrapped in gauze little by little without making any sound.

"Host?"

The system spoke tentatively, but Han Changfeng did not reply. Instead, he called the doctor who was about to leave.

"Mitchell seems to have a fever. Can you guys go take a look?"

The doctor and his subordinates looked at each other, indicating that they understood, and then walked into the room one after another.

Left alone again, Han Changfeng sighed heavily, threw his head back on the bed, covered his eyes with his uninjured hand, and didn't know what he was thinking.

When Mitchell returned, he didn't do anything else. Instead, he immediately turned on the surveillance camera and watched Han Changfeng's every move.

When he heard Han Changfeng ask his subordinates to take care of his body, the corners of his mouth that had always been downturned slightly raised.