How Many Tomorrows There Are

Chapter 22: Six-digit power-on password

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The blindfold slipped down, and Brett's eyes burst out with intense hatred.

The moment the light was restored, his eyes widened, and his pupils dilated accordingly.

He vowed to remember that scumbag face, and his arrow feathers made of rage and hatred would no longer be just an illusory target, no longer an "inner city man" who generally refers to a representative class, but It is an enemy with a real image, a real existence, and a target that can be seen and touched.

He would fantasize about killing him, grabbing that person's neck, seeing that face flushed and distorted due to suffocation, his eyeballs were bloodshot, and he was about to stare out until the pupils dilated. Or send him to the electric chair, feel the powerful electric current roam freely in his body, let him also experience the feeling of being out of control, incontinence and powerless.

However, Bright was doomed to disappointment.

What he saw was just a man wrapped in a large white robe. He was slightly shorter than himself, about 1.83 meters tall. Judging from the width of his shoulders, he was not strong or thin, and he was probably of medium build. He didn't show a trace of skin, wearing a hood, mask, and gloves that were airtight.

But it cannot be said to be a complete failure, because Brett saw a pair of dark eyes.

Those eyes were very dark, cold and deep. When Brett looked into them, he immediately felt the coolness rising from the soles of his feet, as if he was staring into the abyss. It was the gaze of a hunter, like the existence at the top of the food chain looking down at other creatures, all of which are their food, or the food that was not well-behaved and soiled himself. The alarm bell in his heart rang wildly, and his soul had an urge to break free from his body and escape.

Through his eyes, Brett was sure that the other party was not the person who executed the execution, but must be that scumbag, a high-status inner city man who forced himself to perform in public and even used lynching assholes.

Brett was not discouraged, he comforted himself that this was a good progress, at least he knew the eyes, height and general shape of the enemy.

He is confident that the next time he meets him, he will be able to recognize him. (not at all… )

At the same time, doubts arose in his heart: Why did he wear such a large robe? No mobility issues? Or is the other party trying to cover up something

This little accident was a different feeling for the other protagonist of this punishment.

The black cloth fell, revealing those shining brown eyes, the color of amber in the refraction of the sun, but more alive and touching than the resin. There is a fire in there, burning from the depths of the soul, fueled by life and fueled by the spirit, enough to burn everything.

beautiful!

Hodge was amazed, and countless psalms and movements of praise poured out of his heart. The war horn was not as exciting as it was, and the bronze spear of Ares was not as sharp as it was.

What follows is a strong desire to have.

How wonderful it would be if my own reflection could freeze in those eyes!

He must let these eyes stare at him at the moment before losing their brilliance, and record his image forever.

This thought made Hodge's heart beat a little, and he felt rare joy and satisfaction, just like when opening a present, he found that the contents in the box were very in line with his wishes, even exceeding expectations.

The lips under the mask curled.

Hodge didn't respond for a few seconds, as if he stood there in a daze, stunned by the turn of events. In fact, he was trying to restrain himself from being so excited that he accidentally scratched the presents inside when he unwrapped the gift box.

Don't be frizzy, he warned himself, take it slow.

This gift is fragile.

At this moment, the scarred man who was hung up in the middle of the room suddenly laughed: "Are you hard?"

His eyes fell on the lower part of the belt, hinting at his suspicions: Is the robe just there to hide this

The man's voice has long been hoarse, and the blood on his lips has dried up and turned black, some were wounded by the whip, and some were bitten by himself. He didn't care at all, and spit out the words on his own.

Hodge's throat tightened, he was excited, every cell from the brain's cortex to his toes was singing with joy.

It can't be called temptation, the man's eyes don't say that, it can't be called provocation, his voice is so weak, let alone insult, because he is in a mess right now.

He said, "I want to see you cum too..."

The violent whip fell on the man. If it was an elegant waltz that controlled the rhythm before, it is now a passionate tango, full of hot and sexy origins from the American Midwest, with a strong rhythm and exciting.

Punch, puff, puff, puff.

The white-robed nobleman twisted his long whip with both hands, raised his head slightly, and his body trembled slightly, which lasted for a long time before it stopped.

A milky white flower of passion/desire bloomed under the robe, soaking the white cloth, but unfortunately the slave had no chance to see this scene, he had already fainted from exhaustion.

It was a rare time to come out of the program group, and Bright decided not to miss this opportunity.

When he was in a coma, it was close to zero. He quickly replenished his energy in the game world, and seized the time to rest and recover his strength and injuries. Latiao faithfully squatted at his feet, and he hugged it tightly, drawing warmth from it, Then bring yourself back to the real world.

He felt pain all over his body, his legs being lifted and dragged, his back sliding down the corridor. His whole body was being dragged like a dead dog, and there was a sharp pain at the wound. He didn't dare to open his eyes, so he had to endure it and remain motionless.

The dragging stopped, and someone put something like a mask on his nose and mouth, and then his body was lifted up, and with a plop, he fell into the lukewarm liquid.

Someone was talking next to him: "The injury is like this, and it won't heal within two hours. It's rare to meet my husband having such a good time."

"Tsk tsk, what a pity," said another person, Brett, and complained that he couldn't rest well in the middle of the night, and said to his companion, "Let's go and have a drink first."

"Is it okay to leave him here alone?"

"Except that we are all off duty and no one cares, we can come back tomorrow morning to find people."

The footsteps gradually faded away, and Brett waited for a while to confirm that there was no sound before opening his eyes.

He was in a huge transparent glass jar, and his body was surrounded by a light blue liquid. He felt that his wound had stopped bleeding, and the pain was no longer so painful, and he felt an itchy and comfortable feeling.

This should be a place similar to a medical room. There are several jars like this, lined up in a row.

He looked around cautiously, but found nothing like a monitor. It was night and no one would come, so he tried to open the top cover. Fortunately, it was not locked, and he climbed out of it smoothly.

The liquid dripped onto the ground, and he picked up the towel next to it to wipe it off to avoid leaving marks.

He first scanned the operating table and unknown instruments in the room. There was a sharp scalpel on the table. He picked it up and scratched it on his player's bracelet. He didn't know what material the bracelet was made of. Not a single scratch was left.

Brett sighed, and put the knife back to its original place. Fortunately, he didn't have high expectations, it was just an experiment, and he wasn't disappointed.

His eyes fell on the far left, where there was a tall screen that he had seen in sci-fi dramas, and he knew he couldn't use it at a glance. Brett didn't dare to take risks. , the system senses an object approaching and starts automatically.

"Please enter the power-on password." A dialogue window appears in front of you, with a virtual keyboard below.

The user name is Admin, it looks like a public work computer, even the user name has not been set, and the security level is low, not voice, face or retinal recognition.

Bright decided to try his luck and typed in six numbers.

The boot is successful, and a short piece of music sounds.

Brett's heart rose, and after waiting for a while to find that there was no other movement, he looked at the virtual light curtain. While studying the method of use, he was so proud that he wanted to whistle.

A bloody lesson, 123456 cannot be used as a power-on password.

The author has something to say: I continue to hope that the review will be more friendly to me