I shook my head, and then asked Mrs. Hansen in the most serious manner I have ever known:
"So madam, after so many experiences, how are you going to treat me now?"
Mrs. Hansen smiled helplessly: "My child, I don't know either... I just hope that it may be my extravagant wish. I have been dreaming that one day, it will be my Alvin who comes back. But
, maybe I am not pious enough and my prayer has not been heard by God. But I am willing to wait like this until my son comes back."
A terrible thought suddenly flashed into my mind: "Madam, I boldly ask, did the first eighty-eight people have another accident? Or... did you send them away?" I tried to be more tactful.
The wording, after all, directly asking "Did you just kill him as soon as you saw he was not your son, and then wait for the next wave?" is a bit too direct.
Mrs. Hansen took a breath unexpectedly: "Child, how could you have such a terrible idea? Even if magical things happened in front of us eighty-nine times, we would not dare or cannot make that attempt!
After all, who knows whether you will wake up again next time."
"Oh" I breathed a sigh of relief. I was really afraid that if I disagreed, Mrs. Hansen would break the glass and call in a bunch of killers to "send me away".
"Then, I also want to ask," I thought of another thing, "how many people know about what happened to me?"
Mrs. Hansen thought for a while and said: "In the family, only our husband and wife know about it, not even Elsa. As for outsiders, the high priest knows because he is our husband and wife's best friend and has seen many of your accidents."
'.No more." Mrs. Hansen's affirmative tone and eyes made me feel relieved. At least, this was not bad. I am a low-key person after all.
"So, we hope and request that you can cooperate with us and be our son for an unknown period of time. I hope that you can live in this world as my son. Likewise, you
If you can enjoy the treatment that matches your status, please believe me. Please."
Mrs. Hansen stared at me, her expression pleading, but also firmness that could not be refused.
I just thought about it and agreed: "Okay! Mother!"
I have no choice, the situation is stronger than the other person. After all, she is really "my" mother, so I don't suffer any disadvantages from calling her my godmother. This is the first time for me to be asked to be someone's son. It feels so awkward.
Mrs. Hansen smiled, unable to hide her happy feeling: "Then, for the sake of truth and not to lie, please call me 'Mom'."
I showed the innocent expression of an eight-year-old child: "Okay, Mom!"
The guests and hosts enjoy themselves.
Then, Mrs. Hansen got up and asked someone to bring Mrs. Yasili in. After whispering the handover, she took me out.
Walking out of the door of the living room and following Mrs. Yasili, I finally breathed a sigh of relief. After walking out of this door, I had a real and legal identity in this world for the time being, and a pretty good life experience, even though it was just
temporary.
I also wonder what kind of luck can make this body die eighty-nine times and still live again. Is this a soul-sucking physique after death? Or is this body the key to the door to another world? The key is
The question is, are these more than 80 deaths normal accidents? Huh? I feel so contradictory when I say this.
What if not?
I touched my chin and thought of a possibility that made my hair stand on end.
Could it be that someone has been trying to kill this Master Hansen?
The more I thought about it, the more likely it was, and the more terrifying it became. Even after Mrs. Yasili sent me to her room, I didn't have time to take a closer look.
I sat on the bed, which was as big as a swimming pool. It was soft and very elastic, but I am a person who has seen the world. Isn’t this just velvet and Simmons? It was so soft! I lay down and seemed to be trapped in the world.
It's like being in the clouds, so comfortable. The quilt is also silky, it should be satin.
But uncle, I am not a person who loves to enjoy things. I have to think about the problem carefully. If all my "predecessors" were killed by the enemies of the real owner, wouldn't I be in danger too?
Thinking of this, I couldn't help but sigh, what kind of aristocratic and wealthy family? My young master has died so many times, what do those guards do for a living, do they get paid for nothing?
I think about the other person, he must be very depressed, right? How come Master Hansen can always escape death? No matter how many times he is assassinated, he can always be resurrected with full health.
I am a single-celled animal. If I were asked to think about too complicated things, I would be tired, so in a trance, I... fell asleep.
I don’t know how long it took, but I woke up leisurely.
Gulu!
Okay, I admit, I actually woke up hungry.
After opening my eyes, I found that it was pitch black all around.
I screamed, holy shit, I'm not blind, it must be poison in the tea!
bang
The door opened, and the dazzling sunlight hit my face!
ah!
It hurts! It hurts!
Damn it, didn’t I become a vampire?
"Master!" A young man in a crisp uniform broke in and looked at me nervously.
I also watched this strange boy helplessly.
The two of us just looked at each other speechless.
Only then did I realize that the pain was because my hand was hot when it was pressed on a copper stove.
It turns out that I am neither blind nor turned into a vampire. Apart from being a little hungry, I feel good about being alive.