There was silence in the bathroom, and the crimson liquor still flowed quietly in Venus’ arms, allowing the surrounding air to be stained with fragrant and fragrant wine.
The golden dome is reflected in the reflection of the dark liquor, as if in a trance like an all-night extravagant party on the Mount Olympus in the legend.
Puppet master!
Weston raised his eyelids and repeated uncertainly: “Will the person manipulated by the puppet silk leave the slightest trace of manipulation?”
The black-haired man nodded slowly, “Yes, there is no trace, it can only be identified by the difference or clues of this person from the past.”
Login to comment
Be the first one to comment...