MTL - Wife is Not Divorced-Chapter 101 ice pear

When Tang Yiqi saw No. 63 again, not many people called "it" by this number, and people were more inclined to call her: "Mad Dog."

Because that's a real mad dog.

With the roar of the huge propeller, the transport plane slowly landed on the Xingzheng tarmac. This mission was extremely dangerous, and the notice said that of the two teams sent, only a few people survived.

Tang Yiqi walked with big strides, and the assistant quickly followed her, reporting the situation of the mission beside her.

"How many numbers need to be 'replaced'?"

Tang Yiqi asked.

The assistant replied, "Team 5 was completely wiped out, and 61, 63, and 68 remained in the sixth, but it was reported that 61 was seriously injured and probably needed to be replaced as well."

Tang Yiqi frowned: "Who is the number that can move freely and carry out the next task?"

"Crazy..." The assistant was just halfway through, and immediately wanted to change his tune, but at this moment, the transport plane slowly lowered the hatch, and a cloud of sand and dust swelled around.

In the sand and dust, the outline of a "human" was faintly revealed. The black boots stepped on the gravel, and the tight trousers were torn several times, revealing pale skin.

Her brown blond hair was soaked with blood and stuck to her side wetly. She looked indifferent, her light-colored eyes were gray, and she looked at Tang Yiqi like this.

Tang Yiqi raised his eyebrows, his eyes fell on the collar and dog tag she was wearing between her neck, and said, "No. 63."

No. 63 bowed and knelt down slowly in front of her. She bowed her head reverently and said in a hoarse voice, "Admiral."

The collar was clasped around the neck, the pitch-black metal glowed with a cool luster, and there was a small red dot flickering.

...I seem to have not seen her for a long time.

Tang Yiqi thought to himself that he had heard many times in the mouths of others, what kind of mad dog fought again, killed again, and caused trouble.

The man looked thin, but he was even crazier than a dog when he fought. Others are dying, but she doesn't hesitate to die.

Every time she attacked, she tore the flesh with blood. Even if several bones were broken, she could get up with blood in her eyes and bite off the opponent's neck in one bite.

Tang Yiqi hates uncontrolled chess pieces the most, but this chess piece is strong enough and easy to use. Over the years, it has helped her to eradicate many serious worries.

And now, there is only one "big problem" left.

"Go back and have a good rest," Tang Yiqi said in a light voice, "After a week, when the sixth team is fully filled, you need to go to the snowy mountains."

No. 63 bowed his head: "Yes."

Tang Yiqi said a few more words, then waved her to leave, and No. 63 bent down and bowed again, and then walked slowly towards the dormitory.

No. 63 walked slowly, her arms were still dripping blood, and behind her, the other teammates, covered with white cloth, lay on stretchers and hurriedly pushed away from her.

There are 20 people in the dormitory, and the numbers change rapidly. This time, only a few of the six teams have died. The mad dog is one of the few who can come back every time. When the fifth team saw her pushing the door open, they immediately stopped talking.

No. 63: "…"

No. 63 went straight to the edge of the bed and sat down. She took off her coat, revealing a ferocious wound on her arm, sterilized, applied medicine, and bandaged her face expressionlessly.

The whole room had a pungent smell of blood.

The wound was open to the flesh, and bones were visible, but No. 63 remained silent, as if it was not her own body, but a skin like a walking corpse.

Does it hurt? It doesn't hurt.

Are you scared? Don't be afraid.

Whether it's a torn wound or a broken bone, poison or suffocation, after you get used to the pain, you won't feel anything.

No. 63 put away the remaining gauze and powder. She leaned on the edge of the bed, closed her eyes sleepily, and slumped slightly.

There were some voices in the ears. Other military dogs were talking about the horror of this mission. They blew up three remote bases in the SAARC, and they were able to come back alive in the face of countless pursuits. What a lunatic.

The voice was low, but she could hear it.

… very annoying.

No. 63 opened her eyelids and glanced, and the surroundings became quiet again, quiet, extremely quiet, she closed her eyes and slowly fell asleep.

In the chaos, she dreamed again.

She dreamed of clubs, whipping, cauterization, flooding, irons, corpses, skulls where bones were broken and healed, and then completely bent.

She dreamed of the sound of burning into the bones, accompanied by the "crack" sound of the iron burning the flesh, and whispering in her ears all the time: [You are heroes. 】

[You are heroes in the dark, and you are also a figure that can be replaced; you are the strongest backing of the Northern Alliance, and you are also a dog that obeys its master. 】

【Do not disobey the order, do not turn your back on the North Alliance. Follow orders, follow orders, kill a person, seize a piece of information, blow up a base, and come back alive. 】

Those voices were disturbing, constantly, constantly overlapping, staggering, messy and disorderly, falling on her like a shower of hail.

There was a buzzing sound in the ears, thousands of people were talking, thousands of pains penetrated into the body, and No. 63 suddenly woke up with pain, only to realize that it was night.

The door was closed, and the other teammates had already returned to their beds, either awake or asleep. No. 63 looked down and saw that the gauze was soaked in dark red, and blood was dripping downward.

She seems to have forgotten something.

…what is it then?

Forget it, it doesn't make sense.

A week passed quickly, and Alpha's self-healing ability was extremely powerful, not to mention the rank of No. 63 that was comparable to an admiral.

The wound on the arm is almost healed, and the skin is as smooth as new, only a few faint scars can be seen, which will gradually disappear over time.

This "Snow Mountain Encirclement and Suppression" mission is a bit special. The instructions given by Tang Yiqi are: "Destroy the snow mountain base of SAARC at all costs."

"At all costs", these words are quite meaningful, put them in the mouth and chew around, they are all **** bones and flesh.

[This is a suicide attack. 】

All the numbers, and everyone knew this, lined up in silence, and then got on the transport plane that would never return.

No. 63 sat silently on the edge, holding a long metal tube, filling bullets one by one, "click", "click", the sound smashed into the silent cabin.

No one speaks alone.

They were originally just substitutes, just an obedient hound, and after they died, someone else would take their place.

They would die silently, with no graves or monuments, not even their names.

No one will remember them, no one will remember them, no one will stand in the rain with an umbrella and put a little white flower on their grave.

The destination soon arrived. They fell from a height of ten thousand feet, the parachute suddenly opened, and their boots stepped on the thick snow, bringing the heavily guarded base not far away into their eyes.

Everything went so smoothly.

They are well-trained and well-planned, break through from different places, fight the enemy, set up explosives on the load-bearing, and then detonate them in sequence.

From time to time, the walkie-talkie heard the noisy sound of "his-hiss!", and each sudden interruption of the conversation also meant the "death" of a number.

No. 63 hit the guard in the head with a single shot before slicing another man's neck with a knife.

Drops of blood spurted out, drenching the walls.

The boots stepped on the pool of blood, and there was a wet and muffled "click", she walked quickly through the corridor, and suddenly saw the "mission goal" this time:

The woman with long silver hair.

Just as No. 63 rushed over, there was a loud "Boom!" from behind - debris and gravel splashed and plunged deep into her shoulders.

A little bit, a little bit more.

In the last few seconds, the bullet deflected due to the sudden explosion, and would only swipe across Yin's side face. She clenched the sharp blade tightly and "stabbed" the bridge of Yin's nose.

It's a pity that Yin's guards rushed up to hold her down, and No. 63 killed a few more people with his backhand. Amid the noise, the "boom" sound of the detonation came not only from behind but also from the side.

The set blast-detonation points were ignited one after another, the entire building collapsed, and the fire swept over, and at the same time, the collapsed snow-capped mountains fell.

The snow layer completely collapsed, and with the trend of destroying the dry and pulling the rot, it slammed into the already precarious base.

Otherwise, how do you say this is a "suicide attack"?

Killing, blasting, and avalanche, not only did they not allow the enemy to have a way to survive... but they were determined to bury all the six teams here, leaving no survivors.

Yin did not know when to escape, and 63 was panting, holding the **** blade. Beside her were several dead bodies, and looking from a distance, the collapsed and turbulent avalanche was close at hand.

"Om-!"

Snow waves are coming in an instant.

The heavy snow hit him, causing No. 63's ears to hum, and the wound pierced by the debris was still bleeding, dripping onto the white snow.

All kinds of wounds added up, and No. 63 couldn't hold it anymore. She staggered a few steps and fell into the snow, letting the pure white color come over and wrap her in it.

cold.

It's cold...it's cold.

"Cough, cough, cough..."

No. 63 reluctantly opened his eyes and found that he was still alive, surrounded by snowflakes, howling winds, and a dark and gloomy scene.

She didn't know how long she had been wrapped in snowflakes, and the base had disappeared from sight, and in the vast night, No. 63 couldn't tell where it was.

No. 63 was still breathing, she barely propped herself up and walked slowly in the snow.

Why is she still alive?

Why is she still struggling?

No. 63 didn't know either, she just walked dazedly and aimlessly, waiting for the blood loss and hypothermia to consume her life, and then to complete her mission and die here.

"Cough, cough, cough..."

No. 63 reluctantly walked a few steps. She couldn't walk anymore. She slammed into the snow and coughed up bits and pieces of blood: "Cough, cough."

So cold and so painful.

She rested on the soft snow, covered with a blanket woven from thin snow, her long eyelashes soaked in blood slowly closed and fell into the ethereal darkness.

[No. 63, this is your mission on this trip. 】

[Have you heard about No. 63 of Team Six? Don't mess with her, that person is a total lunatic! 】

[Oh, I know that lunatic, the one who was bitten on the shoulder and dripped with blood during the trapped beast fight, but still killed the wild bear directly? 】

[Right, yes, and the previous team trained each other, and it was good enough to stop, but she killed five people from the fourth team just because of one provocation...]

The wind was getting lighter and quieter, the noisy voices faded away, and No. 63 finally got that long-lost silence, warmer than the fire burning in the fireplace.

There were soft voices in my ears.

Like the sound of footsteps, like the sound of breathing, warm and soft, it fell lightly to his ears.

【who is she? 】

No. 63 thought wearily.

Someone was pushing her shoulders, talking to her softly, throwing down a bunch of messy instruments reluctantly, and then slowly moving her to her shoulders.

The man walked a step deeper and a shallower step, not only chanting in his ears, but also asking her name, and chanting some strange knowledge, like a robot.

In the dark night sky, there were inexplicably little stars, the boundless gleam, and the unreachable warmth came to her side like this.

The man was singing under the night sky.

His voice was sober and solemn, as if he was endorsing, singing Moonlight, Falling Snow, Paper Boats, and the lover who hadn't come back for a long time.

Clear and warm, just like a long, long time ago, there were two children huddled in a corner, telling each other the most beautiful but cruelest fairy tales.

【her name…】

【Who is she…? 】

With a chaotic head, the sequelae of blood loss and hypothermia came up together. No. 63 finally lowered his eyes and quickly lost consciousness. . . .

Chu Chisi carried her back all the way, and almost lost her breath. Fortunately, it was late at night, and the other expedition team members were asleep, so she could sneak in unnoticed.

In the entire scientific expedition team, only Chu Chisi's brain was not "normal". Seeing that the outdoor temperature reached low temperature, he packed several large bags excitedly in the middle of the night, and he was about to go up the mountain to measure with his instruments on his back.

As a result, the particle operation data was not collected. Instead, all the machines were thrown into the mountain, and she carried a golden retriever puppy with scars on her back.

Jin Mao fainted halfway and said that he wanted to sing for her, but the sound disappeared after just a few words, but Chu Chisi was startled, and even after calling her for a long time, no one responded.

"Hey, I really should exercise more..."

Chu Chisi sat on the chair, bent down and hammered his sore calf, and then raised his head to hammer his shoulder that was about to break, and muttered to himself a few words.

The room was warm, but the smell of blood was everywhere, and the golden retriever puppy lay beside her, pale, with light-colored eyelashes tightly closed, trembling with breath.

She was still alive, but the wound was bleeding all the time, with burns and lacerations. Chu Chisi had a bunch of strange knowledge in her mind, but dressing the wound just happened to touch her blind spot of knowledge.

Fortunately, with the advancement of technology, everything is available on the Internet.

While watching the video, Chu Chisi turned out the first aid kit. This was originally prepared by her for the end of the world, but now she can only use it for the puppy.

"Well, clean up the wound first?"

Chu Chisi watched the video attentively, followed the voice and said, "To disinfect, you can use iodine or alcohol."

She unscrewed the small bottle, dipped a bit of alcohol on cotton, cut open the No. 63 clothes, and touched the wound there lightly:

"Hey!" No. 63 suddenly gasped, and then opened his eyes, his light-colored pupils were bloodshot, and he locked his gaze on Chu Chisi's body.

Chu Chisi was stunned for a while, and quickly wanted to explain: "Are you awake? This is alcohol, I want to disinfect you..."

Before the words were said, the wounded who should have been lying on the bed suddenly burst into flames, grabbed her wrist hard, and pushed her to the ground with a "bang".

"Bangdang-!"

The alcohol bottle was smashed on the ground, and the fragments were deeply and shallowly stuck on the floor. No. 63 was pressed on her body, her hand full of scars was trapped between her wrists, and the other hand pressed the blade of the knife to her neck.

"Why did you save me? Where do you belong? Why are you here?"

No. 63's eyes were empty and his voice was hoarse, "Do you know my identity? How much do you know about this plan?"

"If you don't explain clearly, I will kill you immediately."

No. 63 looked down at her condescendingly, and the deeper the blade reached, the more fierce she looked, and her murderous aura overflowed: "—Speak to me!"

She was tall and powerful, and the shadow covered Chu Chisi inside, and the whole room was filled with blood, spreading silently on the tip of her nose.

It was buzzing and loud.

No. 63 was clutching the blade, and in her already blurred vision, she couldn't even see the person's face clearly. She was acting entirely on the basis of years of training and experience carved into her bones.

But...weird.

That person looked delicate and fragile, not like a battle-hardened mercenary or a spy, but more like the little porcelain figure in the snow crystal ball.

She was not afraid of herself at all, those dark eyes looked at her without blinking, without fear or flinch, she just looked at her.

Her cheeks itch suddenly, Chu Chisi cupped her face with her spare hand, and pressed her palms tightly together, like the kind of marshmallow she had never eaten before.

"Wait, you hurt me."

Chu Chisi said softly, put her hand on her head, and rubbed her head gently like a puppy: "Let me go first, okay?"

The hand holding the blade tightened, and No. 63 instinctively wanted to let go of her, but the voice in his ear was clamoring to kill her again. The two forces were tearing at her body, about to tear her in half.

Let go of her! You are hurting her!

kill her! She may be from SAARC!

"You...you shouldn't," No. 63 closed his eyes in pain, his eyebrows furrowed deeply, "you can't save me, I should be damned, I should die on the snowy mountains..."

[You are an alternative number. 】

【You are a loyal hound. 】

I don't know why, but the hands that have always been steady and ruthless trembled violently at this moment. No. 63 was not only panting, but was distracted for a moment, and the blade was snatched away.

"Why do you have this thing?" Chu Chisi took the knife, and the blood stained her waxy white hand, "No, I'll take it farther."

She threw it very hard, looking very hard, but the knife slammed down and landed a meter or two away.

No. 63: "…"

Did she really have no strength to throw it so close on purpose as a bait to lure herself into the trap?

No. 63 was still in doubt, but Chu Chisi said weakly first: "You let me go, I will throw the knife away..."

No. 63: "..."

Chu Chisi struggled for a while, barely pulling her wrist back from the restraint, she reached out to push No. 63 away, but was pressed even tighter and tighter by the other party.

Her skin is delicate and porcelain-white, and her ink hair softly covers her shoulders and neck, like scattered ink marks, which more and more depicts a vivid and fragrant picture.

Omega pheromones surging in the air, one after another, one after another, slowly wrapped around her chest like a thin thread, embedded in the depths of her bones.

Drunk, drunk, hazy.

The lips opened uncontrollably, and then bit her neck, the teeth gnawed, and the hot air continued to spread, scalding her soft skin.

Chu Chisi took a breath of cold air silently.

The alpha pheromone condensed into water droplets, which wet her long hair and eyelashes. No. 63 bit down, the heat rushed up, and bit her auricle.

In the dim eyes, the glands on the back of the neck that were already slightly reddened were reflected, and the small fruit buried under the skin exuded sweet pheromones, enticing her to taste it.

At this moment, a clear and steady voice fell from the ear: "Pear."

That familiar, yet extremely unfamiliar name, exploded in my mind along with that extremely clear voice, soft yet deafening.

No. 63 shuddered and stepped back.

She staggered back and slammed into the legs of the table. The entire table was swayed and smashed down some papers and documents.

"I, I..." No. 63 lowered her head, her knuckles entangled in her long hair, her voice was hoarse and her words were vague, "I am..."

The headache was splitting, and the pain engraved in her bones was tormenting her. Maybe she was really just a dog, and she would be driven by pain, Pavlov's dog.

But in addition to the pain that was densely packed and deeply implanted in the bone marrow, there were some vague memories awakening, accompanied by the damaged picture, surging over her.

"Pear... Who is Pear?"

No. 63 curled up in pain, his back was trembling, his voice was hoarse, and every word was blood and scars that couldn't be dissolved: "I'm... No. 63, I'm No. 63."

At this moment, someone wrapped her shoulders, hugged her lightly and gently, and slowly rubbed her head.

A very soft voice, "Good."

That embrace was too soft and unbelievably warm, wrapping her whole body: "Oh, don't be sad anymore."

Knuckles stroked her long hair, and she slowly combed the slightly messy ends. No. 63 leaned on her shoulder, her voice was also dyed with water mist: "I..."

"It doesn't matter who you are or what your name is."

Chu Chisi released her, and then held her face up. No. 63 stared at her blankly, feeling a little overwhelmed.

Those black eyes looked at her earnestly, and suddenly curled up a little, with slightly raised eyelashes hooked on her heart, fluttering and fluttering: "As long as it's you."

No. 63 has a dry throat: "I..."

"When you were in a coma before, you muttered something strange," Chu Chisi looked at her and blinked, "No. 63, you said, you will strictly follow the instructions and will not disobey the order."

The fingertips slid down, and then hooked her chin.

No. 63 was forced to lift her head a little, her tender fingertips gently scratching her chin until it went deep into her bones.

"So...will you listen to me too?"

Chu Chisi said in a soft voice, her long eyelashes drooping slightly, her halo faintly: "Be good, do as I say."

No. 63's throat bone rolled and made a silent swallowing motion. Her breath trembled slightly, she should have refused, but she nodded subconsciously: "...Yes."

She raised her head obediently and fell into her soft palm, like a pious little pet: "Chu Chisi, I will be obedient."

Chu Chisi rubbed her head again: "So good."

She straightened up a bit, then unbuttoned a button on her collar and tugged slightly outside.

No. 63 didn't know her intentions, but subconsciously turned her head to the side. However, as soon as she turned around a bit, Chu Chisi pinched her face and broke her back, forcing her to look directly at each other.

I saw that several mottled red marks had been printed on the porcelain-white skin at this moment, such as plum petals falling into the white snow, the contrast was stark and fascinating.

No. 63 even stopped breathing, the voice in her ear was whispering, and there was soreness and pain in her bones. She shouldn't have any emotions, but she... felt nervous for no reason.

"Look, you bit it all."

Chu Chisi tugged at his clothes, and his voice was very calm: "Tell me, how should I compensate me?"