Miss Planeswalker, are you free for romance?

"So, what flavor do you like?"

"It doesn't matter what I like. Now I can only smell your scent anyway."

The man has been a little anxious lately.

He couldn't smell or taste expensive liquids, exquisite foods, or even, to put it bluntly, bad smells.

Having lost the things he thought were useless, those enjoyments and luxuries could no longer fill his empty desires.

"If I had known I would not have made this deal."

If you had known, you would have done the same.

Mary smiled and approached the man unnoticed.

The faint sweet orange scent wafts to my face.

He hadn't smelled anything in so damn long. The man grabbed the woman's hair at the back of her head, pushed her face towards him roughly, stretched out his neck, and took a deep breath in the same place.

hiss--

smell…

What a nice smell.

It was a bit like a freshly washed orange, but the constant secretion of saliva and the peristalsis of the stomach were screaming like a bell in his brain, telling him:

'That's not an orange.'

'It's a tender steak.'

Awakened.

Push it open violently.

Bang.

"I need a therapist..."

George Romy pressed his temple in pain.

Mary fell to the ground, with a long bloody scratch on her forehead caused by the candlestick.

The aroma filled the room.

"roll!!"

The man growled, "Stay away from me!!"

Mary leaned forward and walked downstairs in her high heels.

Da da da…

The beautiful figure faded away, taking away the hunger-inducing fragrance.

George Romy began to get anxious again.

I need a psychiatrist.

…………

……

“This is already a very famous person internationally.”

The messy room was littered with broken glass. Tables and chairs were knocked over, and curtains were torn down and thrown on the floor. Ashes and alcohol mixed into a dark brown sticky liquid that covered the expensive carpet, seeping quietly downwards as the owner sighed.

Mary flipped the tablet and showed the man the information on it.

"We have other options - but we can't guarantee that they will be better than this one..."

"Mary."

George interrupted the woman and raised his head. His eyes were bloodshot.

"What did you do to me?"

He finally found the problem.

"What's wrong with me."

It would be acceptable if he completely lost his sense of smell and taste, but he could still smell a scent on this woman that changed every day.

Her skin is sometimes beetroot, sometimes like toast; sometimes hot and greasy on the tongue, sometimes bland and bitter like a healthy salad.

She, they must have done something.

Mary smiled, turned off the tablet, and half-knelt in front of the man.

The tone is still gentle.

"Mr. Romy, I'm just completing the deal between us." He said the same thing over and over again, but this time he added a little more: "You won't have to worry about these things soon - this is why I don't approve of you looking for a psychiatrist everywhere."

"That's a waste of time."

Deal…deal.

“So, you guys can really do this.”

George looked deeply at the woman kneeling in front of him. For a moment, that mechanical and standard face seemed to be covered with strange blue spots.

He shivered.

The next moment, he was held by the woman's soft and warm hand.

"do not worry."

Mary lowered her head and gently placed her face on the man's knees, wrapping her arms around his waist.

If you don't know what happened between the two of them during these days, at first glance they really look like a sweet couple in love.

"do not worry…"

Mary murmured: "We will be done soon..."

George Romey closed his eyes in despair.

soon…

How fast?

He can't hold on that much longer.

Until one day, when Mary, who had just taken a bath, smelled like lamb chops, the words that the woman had repeated for a long time shattered George Romey's reason like thunder.

He remembered her saying that.

'You can do whatever you want.'

'Including you?'

'certainly. '

Mary…

You smell so good.

real…

I'm really sorry...

He pounced.

"gentlemen…?"

George Romy hugged and kissed the woman - a very brief kiss, and then he bit into the lamb chop...

Use all your strength to tear it apart!!

Tear! Pull!

Blood and flesh gushed out!

The long strips of meat were pulled into thin threads and chewed with a "crunching" sound in the mouth.

crisp!

Crispy!

太…

too delicious! !

George Romy rubbed Mary's face, this time he aimed at the left side.

It's like the sound of a hair gently turning in the cochlea, and the same sound is made when teeth bite flesh. If you don't want to just eat the meat, the sound will be louder if you "drink the soup".

George Romy hugged the woman affectionately.

Indulge.

too--

too delicious! !

Mary!

He wolfed down the delicious food that exploded in his mouth, his manic brows relaxed and a smile appeared on his face.

Fragments of sunlight hit his cheek, and the rust that had nailed gods to death had the power to capture people's hearts.

He is the ugly mouth, a piece of meat with distinct textures from a long time ago; teeth with roots whose ownership cannot be determined and physiological tears left by fly eggs.

He is a gourmet who focuses on what is in front of him.

Because Miss Mary...

It's really delicious!!

For a lover of art, the bloody figure before him is his muse - a woman with a smile on her face, or, for the first and last time, revealing her true inner self, gently raising her arms.

She touched the man's back encouragingly.

She looked up devoutly.

The holy blood light leaked out from the gate of hell in the sky, and the strange demons sang praises. Some, many, all. The mysterious and fluctuating was quickly sucked away from this space like water was pumped out.

There are also some unknown concepts.

tasty…

The man who was gnawing tirelessly was immersed in a vague emotion. Each of his nails was filled with blood and flesh, and he hammered the carpet with his curled joints.

boom!

Chew big.

boom!

Tongue tip flips.

boom!

Taste the delicious texture, juiciness and tenderness that slides down your throat.

boom!

He tilted his head back, closed his eyes and enjoyed it.

The blood-red color spread from the corner of the mouth across the chest, waist and abdomen, and below the knees, it created a spectacular scene of fire burning the wailing of mortals.

boom!

The rhythmic thumping of the floor sets the pace of the heart.

George Romey was finally satisfied.

He held Mistress Mary in his arms and gave the carpet a final blow with the hammer.

Next to the skull that had been gnawed clean, he knocked on the devil's door again and again.

Chapter 51 The Strange Manor Owner