I closed my mouth tightly and fixed my eyes on the wooden table. At the same time, Buhler really smiled with his lips up. "I think the yellow guy must feel very painful," he said. "It's actually a terrible number. These traps may look spectacular when smashing things like birds, but it takes a lot of effort to smash a person. There is no doubt that the last thing your Kate feels The thing was that my skeleton was squashed, like the meat in a sandwich. I don't know how long he has been awake. Nine lives in my eyes. Are you hungry?"
"I'm talking about illegitimate children! Damn bastard!"
I threw the plate aside and stood there waving my fists. "Enough! Enough of your smell, your darkness, and your emotions! I'm so fucking tired of it! I know why you live alone in this ghost place, and I know why, because no living soul can bear it. You! You are such a mess, smelly drunkard! The most annoying old bastard I've ever seen! How can you train me to do anything? You can't hold alcohol or shut up while eating! What if! I can not-"
Crash!
The centaur's spear interrupted my roar, flew over the long dining table, and landed on the head of my chair, only an inch away from my ears.
"I finally see the backbone in you!" The stick announced, striding forward.
When he got to me, he pulled his spear from the chair. "Next time...I will aim at your damn mouth!"
He pushed the chair back with his sturdy wrist, and I was also pushed to the ground. Then he suddenly appeared on my unsuspecting body and gave me a slap in the face. "Discipline is a cloud! Discipline! Your temper will only upset me! Only damn fools will stay there..." He slapped me again. Push harder. "Controlling your emotions helps you think clearly in a crisis, master weapons you never thought you would use, make difficult decisions, and keep yourself alive."
shoot!
"Discipline is a cloud! What's the matter?"
I nodded tremblingly, completely swept away by the centaur's raw power. "Start full training tomorrow morning," he added, "Stop playing! 15 hours a day until the last workout. During training, you cook and clean-if you have time, you can sleep. You will Work harder than ever before-until I finish, you will be a walking and talking callus!"
shoot!
My eyes are full of water, and my cheeks are burning. When Bühler really bent down, so close to me, I felt his curly beard and food shards rubbing my face, and rotting eggs oozing out of my chin.
"You are an emotional child," he said, "you are. After training, you are a man! Yes, a very dangerous person."
The king finally returned, leaving me with a ridiculous timetable and whirlwind last few seconds.
"Oh," he added calmly, "raise your voice again or swear to me... your newly discovered spine... will be broken. Then it will be eaten."
He turned around and left, becoming another shadow in his secret tunnel network.
A drop of water hit my forehead and awakened me from my sleep. My leg slipped out of the bed sheet and was immediately disturbed. I have no clothes on. I put on my clothes, looking for my jeans and wool, but only the twinkling torches, the gleaming walls, and the chilling thought of Bühler really undressing me.
My body is tense and sore, and my nose is runny. When Bühler really opened the door, I got goose bumps all over my body, my teeth quivered behind my lips, holding his spear in one hand, and a gift in the other: a large waterproof canvas sheet, dirty. Xixi, wet and full of tears. "Wear it forever," he said, throwing it at me. "It's very uncomfortable, it can't withstand the cold at all."
"Where are my own clothes?"
"And the belt," he added, handing me a rope. "If things get too serious, you can always use it to hang yourself. Just under Apple."
I hurry up, put the canvas on my head, use a stick to knock off the sitting water, and then make a belt with a rope. "At least give me the boots, stick?"
A beast approaching with a pleasant smirk, his beard has not changed with food.
"Call my name?" he said. "You do have some strange thoughts in your mind! You are my student-me, your master... Now listen to me!"
"At least you can return my boots... Master? My jeans?"
"No need. From now on if you walk barefoot, those jeans will only attract flies. I hate flies. Come on, caveman. Get out!"
"Wait!" I refused and lost a personal item more important than clothes. "Dagger?" I said. "This is to protect me. Where is it?"
I stretched out my arm, as straight as his spear, and the stonewashed expression of the club did not reveal anything.
"This is mine!" I exclaimed in frustration. "I want to get it back! Give it to me, damn it!"
"For your safety? Ha! Protect you little mouse?"
When his chest hit my chest and his stubby fingers poked me back to the wall, his laughter died instantly. "Nothing, nothing, nothing to protect you ass! Not a scientist, not a samurai, and certainly not a trivial blunt dagger!"
"But this is mine!"
"Wrong!" he said sharply, his voice so low. "This is mine! You are mine! When the child grows up to play, he can get his toys back!"
This is all this beast said in this matter.
"bring it on!"
As I was chasing another damp tunnel, the stone pierced the soles of my feet. I can no longer see the club, but I hear and follow the sound of his hoofs away.
He waited for me at a door not far from my cell, with hypnotic torches lit at both ends of the door. Brejon smiled under his stiff beard, which was an ominous sign, never seen the sky, and usually not.
I carefully checked the unpleasant wounds on my arms and feet, especially the heels, which were covered with blood and dirt. Bühler really didn't show sympathy when he opened the door. It rotates inward, making a long squeaking sound. A stale breeze blew away the sleepiness in my eyes, and I couldn't see anything except a vacuum zone without stars. Bühler stepped into this void and ordered him to follow. I was stagnant, unable to overcome the paralyzing anxiety. I called the master, but there was no response. The wind called me like a singing elf, so I got rid of my fear and went to the darkness.
The moment my body sank into the water, the door closed behind my back, sealing me in this dark world. "Stick?" I cried, my voice echoing in every corner.
"Stick! Are you there? Where are you?"
"Stay where you are!" he replied. "Leave!"
His voice was very far away, and when a torch burst into life, a stick appeared under his voice. Forty feet away, he waved the spear on his head like a battle flag of victory. "Come on!" he yelled, chewing on an unfortunate spider that happened to climb onto his coat. "Move your dirty ass over!"
I obeyed. The first two steps were on the rock, but the third step was on the rock. The solid soil was sucked away from my feet like a carpet. Panting, the air rushed towards my face, my arms flapping in the night, frantically trying to grab anything.
After the moment my stomach was in my mouth, my hand found a metal wire. It was very thin and trained to be the kind of metal used to cut cheese or wind a guitar. This rope is the only thing that can prevent me from falling, so I try my best to grab the rope and hang my legs in the air. I was sweating, my eyes blurred, mixing the light of a flashlight with the bottomless darkness. "Help me!" I pleaded, and the pain became more and more intense as the wire passed through my palm. "Stick! Save me!"
"You will fall!" he cried. "Wrap your feet around the wire pig's brain-forgetting is waiting for you! Believe it or not!"
"Help me! Help!"
"Autumn will not kill you, little dust! No, no! You will lie on the bottom of thirty-four pieces. Exactly 34! Unless! Unless you lift your poor leg and walk around the wire! Protect! Good yourself, mouse! Protect yourself!"
"I can not!"
"Then go to death! You hurt my ears!"
The only way to make me stand firm is to put more weight and torture on my hands-the blood has seeped out of my hands and rubbed it gently on my forehead.
"Help me!" I pleaded, but Buhler really didn't move, touching his chest and singing loudly.
"A man was hung on a wire! He lost his grip and fell into the fire! He is gone, you won't believe your eyes! Come here, or you will miss his cry!"
No one comes to help me, I don't want to die of this invisible death. Therefore, it took me a lot of effort to lift up the indescribable pain in the lower body-unable to distinguish the tears and blood on my face. Somehow, miraculously, I hooked the wire with a heel. One after another two. I dragged my legs until they were firmly wrapped around the other leg. I breathed a sigh of relief, loosened the rope, and hung up like a wounded monkey.
"Balance is essential!" The stick roared, clapping boredly on the other side. "I can't emphasize... Discipline-then how important balance is! You will learn to balance the particles, learn it well, and learn it early! One learns by becoming familiar-so it will be you every morning and evening , The route every night and morning! The balance will be hammered into your head mouse! Every lesson you have to check carefully until they are no longer lessons, but routines that are easily completed day after day! Now... ... I'm waiting for my breakfast, when you manage to walk through... "(End of this chapter)