The Cold Lord God Always Acts Like a Spoiled Brat To Me

Pluto looked at the seven additional names on the list, shook his head, held an ink pen in his hand, and tapped Hei Wuchang's head on the left, and then tapped Bai Wuchang's head on the right, "You can't even accept a soul. What’s the use!”

 His eyelids suddenly twitched.

 “Who’s back?”

 “Judge, Your Majesty the Judge…”

very good.

This man did not forget to torture him after he changed his profession from the **** of death to become a judge.

Pluto’s eyes twitched again and he looked at the card suspended in the center: “Where is He?”

"gone back."

 Pluto counted with his fingers.

 If she does not die, there will be endless troubles.

 Cards can be illuminated.

 No one can discern God’s mood.

 “Aren’t you going to save her?” The white cat lay on the Inquisitor’s shoulder.

“Killing gods is a long life-long process.” Ranbai smiled.

 “Truth—”

 …

 …

 To exchange a **** kiss.

 Cold and lingering.

He lowered his eyes without any hesitation.

 Looking at her tremblingly approaching, she touched him cautiously.

 Strange human beings.

 Strange touch.

The card was played carelessly in the hands of the God of Death, as if it was not a sharp weapon that would kill him one day. He did not stop Jiang Chaan's action, he only asked her.

 “How do you want to die?”

 Give her the right to choose to die.

　　is the last mercy.

"I want to know your name." Jiang Cha'an raised her head and touched the corners of his cold mouth with her soft, bright lips. It was such a fragile but ambiguous intimacy. There was no **** as much as lust, leaving a moist warmth, trying to offend. , "Let me remember you."

 A distance that has never existed before.

 Unfamiliar temperature.

 called a kiss.

He never knew, his voice was indifferent.

 “The **** of death has no name.”

 “Then please allow me to love you.”

He heard this word from Jiang Chaan more than once. He pinched her neck lazily and indifferently with his slender hands, lowered his eyes and asked calmly.

"What is love." "I will live and die with you."

 The cold and sharp blade pierced into the chest of the God of Death!

 Without any warning.

 Ginger tea brings a smile as bright as a flower.

 It turns out that the God of Death’s blood is also red. It turns out that his blood has no temperature.

Blood spattered on Jiang Chaan's face. Her almost sacrificial posture was pious and crazy, but she stabbed the dagger deeper on the edge of suffocation: "Please remember, my name -"

excited.

 Hands are shaking with excitement.

 Even if the breath is suffocated, the consciousness is still lingering.

 The world around us is slowly crumbling.

The library was shattered into pieces of dilapidated scenes, and countless tasks were turned into the past.

He and she stood in the void. From the beginning, when she was brought back by him, she made a wish, which was the result of evil.

Being able to kill gods is naturally good, and Jiang Chaan did not place any hope on living alone.

 That's what she is like.



Cha'an's words are absolutely not false.

 She thought she really loved him.

How can you not love it?

 The only person who remembers her over the long years.

 So he wants to remember her.

“No one told you—” He held Jiang Chaan’s hand that was holding the dagger, and the voice in his ear was hoarse and cold, “Is the heart of the God of Death on the left side?”

Like a murmur.

 Like a warning.

　　Hit the ear hard.

 Jiang Chaan suddenly raised his eyelashes to look at him.

 Amber pupils floated.

 The world is completely falling apart.

 In the long river of time with no end in sight, there will be a new reincarnation.

 Twenty-four cards and sickle, dripping blood.

 “I give you permission to love me.”

 Between them, there is no end to the fight.

 It is a master and servant, a lover, a bond or an opposite.

 The God of Death does not know how to be soft-hearted.

 He will never destroy his sickle.

-over-