Yuan Yuxue obviously did not understand what No. 3 meant, and stood aside with an even colder expression than No. 3, watching Wang Jian, a middle-aged man, crying bitterly.
As a war robot, Yuan Yuxue had no concept of "comfort" in his mind, and of course was unaware of No. 3's hint.
Number Three: “.”
However, Yuan Yuxue noticed that the human in front of him had great emotional fluctuations. While he was considering whether to perform mental comfort treatment, No. 3 finally retreated in the secret struggle.
He glanced around, sloppily pulled out a few tissues, handed them to Wang Jian, and patiently comforted him, "Don't cry, he's not dead yet, is he?"
Wang Jian: “…”
He seemed even more upset and even coughed awkwardly, as if his tears and snot were choking into his trachea.
Number Three was not a person who was good at comforting others. He had a cold face and was more like an instigator than a threat, saying, "Stop for a moment. I have something to ask you - you don't want to become the person you described, do you?"
Wang Jian: “…”
He felt threatened.
But no matter what, the crying did stop. And No. 3 also reached out to Wang Jian, "Let me see that text message."
Wang Jian also handed them his cell phone.
The texts in the previous messages were similar to what Wang Jian described. Number 3 only glanced at them and quickly scrolled to the picture at the bottom.
The scene was even bloodier than Number Three had imagined.
Rather than saying it was a human body, it was more like a pool of rotten meat. The internal organs and some organs were almost separated from the body, splashing several meters away, and exploded into a sticky ball.
As a player of survival games, this level of bloody scenes is commonplace for No. 3, so he did not show any emotion at all. He even analyzed the angle carefully. This angle... is very similar to the scene that a person sees after his soul leaves his body after death, a wide perspective similar to looking down from a parallel direction.
"Have you ever thought about deleting this text message?" No. 3 asked when returning the phone to Wang Jian.
"I dare not." Wang Jian smiled bitterly.
The biggest lesson he learned during this period was not to try to get rid of misfortune - the last time he burned the bag of dead money, he lost almost the same amount of cash, and his daughter got sick. So much so that he was still afraid of this death notice-like text message, fearing that he would immediately become like the one in the picture after deleting it.
Yuan Yuxue just stood there quietly. He didn't read the text message, but instead focused more on the suitcase that was placed in a remote corner far away from Wang Jian.
"Is the briefcase full of paper money for the dead in your suitcase?" Yuan Yuxue asked suddenly.
Wang Jian looked over there almost subconsciously, his expression a little dazed.
“Yes, yes.”
That thing can't be thrown away at all. Even if he throws away all his luggage, the bag will automatically come back to him.
So Wang Jian had no choice but to bring the paper money into the hotel.