My Iron Suit

phone-reading

What Chen Mo needs has not yet appeared. If he intervenes too early, it is likely to destroy the original plot trajectory and produce unknown variables.

Therefore, Chen Mo just sneaked into the Haolid Manor at night, and installed a large number of hidden miniature cameras and monitors inside the manor to let Jarvis monitor it at any time.

He is waiting for a moment, only when something happens and he waits for something to appear before he can start intervening in his plan.

Fortunately, he did not wait too long.

In the afternoon after a month, Chen Mo was drinking coffee in the manor leisurely, and Jarvis’s voice suddenly sounded in his ear.

"Sir, James Hollet is ill, and Victor Rogan is accompanying him in the room."

When he heard that it didn't seem to make much sense, Chen Mo's eyes suddenly turned bright.

This is the scene before the key story in the movie.

After wielding the servant who was waiting for him, Chen Mo got up and went back to the study room. After closing the door and the window, he sat down on the chair behind the desk.

"Give me a live picture."

"Okay, sir."

Jarvis’s voice just fell, a light and shadow projected from Chen Mo’s watch, unfolding in the air in front of Chen Mo, forming a holographic projection.

The above shows a retro and gorgeous room. A large European solid wood bed is placed against the wall. A ten-year-old boy in a beautiful red wool pajamas is squatting on the bed, from time to time. Coughing.

In front of the fireplace opposite him, a slightly older, but worn-out teenager was sitting bored on the stool, casually trimming his nails with a knife, and occasionally talking to the sick boy on the bed. Words.

Chen Mo looked at the time, four o'clock in the afternoon, and Chen Mo's memory of the story happened at night, although the winter sun set early, but there is still a short period of time.

......

Howlet Manor, the innermost room in the second floor corridor, in the fireplace, the high quality firewood from the Rocky Mountains is burning, releasing the rolling heat, bringing this room in this cold season. It is like the temperature of spring.

With the burning of the flames, the time passed by, the sky outside gradually darkened, and even if there was a fire in the fireplace, the room would become dark.

"Victor, it’s so dark!"

The little boy on the bed said a little weak.

"You are all thirteen years old, how are you still afraid of black!"

The teenager sitting in front of the fireplace turned a blind eye, but still put down the knife in his hand, got up and walked to the bedside table next to the boy, opened the drawer and took out a box of matches, which lit the wall of the bed. An oil lamp, the dim light shone on the boy's face on the bed, which made him obviously relieved.

The boy was trying to blow out the match, but the other corner of the eye was glimpsed with another oil lamp on the bedside table. Then the flames of the match were used to light the handcuffs that were used when they went out at night.

The room also became brighter with the light of the two oil lamps.

The little boy lying in bed, James Howlett could not help but reveal a happy smile.

Victor swayed his wrist, extinguished the match that had burned to the roots, turned and walked back to the fireplace again, sat back in the chair, took out the knife and continued to trim his nails.

His nails seem to be somewhat deformed. They are not as wide and thin as ordinary people. They are white and fleshy, but narrow and thick. They are almost cylindrical. The front end is sharp and sharp, like the claws of animals. A yellow sheen.

At this time, he was using the sharp knife to continuously flatten the nail surface a little, and cut off the sharp part that was stretched out, and flatten it to make it look closer to the normal human nail.

However, since the structure of the nail itself is different from that of ordinary people, even if it is carefully trimmed by him, it is obviously different from other people.

However, he is still persevering and constantly trimming it.

While trimming, he did not forget to talk to James Howlet on the bed, lest he be bored and bored.

Coincidentally, James Howlet coughed a few more times, and Victor couldn't help but look up and tell him.

"How old are you sick?"

James Howlet heard a few coughs and did not show a weak rebuttal.

"You are often sick when you are as big as me."

Just then, the door of the room was suddenly opened, and a moderate middle-aged man in a shirt and suit vest pushed in and walked in.

Victor quickly got up from his chair and hid the knife that trimmed his nails behind him.

"Good evening, sir!"

The middle-aged man looked at him unexpectedly and replied with a slight nod.

"Good evening, Victor, I didn't expect you to be here."

The middle-aged man continued to walk toward the bed after he finished speaking.

"I just stayed with James~www.wuxiaspot.com~, if you don't mind."

Victor still stood by the fireplace and explained.

"You are very good."

The middle-aged man sat down beside the bed, screamed and smiled and praised Victor. Then he turned his head and looked at the little boy on the bed. He put his hand on his forehead and asked in a warm voice.

"Son, how are you?"

"It's still cold, Dad."

James Howlett said with a weak voice.

"It’s just a fever, not high."

The middle-aged man, the father of the boy, the owner of the manor, John Howett, said warmly.

"You will be fine in the morning."

When the father and son warmly talked, behind them, the look of Victor Rogan standing by the fireplace was a bit complicated, envious, sad, and hateful!

Only his hatred does not seem to be directed at the two people in front of him.

"You always say that."

The little boy James Howlett heard his father's usual comfort and whispered softly.

John Howett heard the words of his son and couldn’t help but laughed and asked.

"Because every time you will be fine, isn't it?"

"Ok."

James Howett nodded lightly and agreed with his father.

John Hollett reached out and took the vial from the bedside table.

"Come on, take the medicine."

At this moment, a huge slamming sound suddenly came from the downstairs, and one of the same sounds shouted at the man.

"Elizabeth! Elizabeth!"

Elizabeth is the name of John Howett’s wife, and the mother of James Howlet, who was lying in bed at this time, but she doesn’t know why a man ran to someone’s house in the middle of the night and shouted the names of other people’s wives. .

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