Erik almost yelled at Hank.
That's right, roar. Erik grabbed Hank's collar and dragged him over, while yelling at him words that Hank himself couldn't understand.
"If you have to get someone to talk loudly in your ear, get over here," Erik glared at him, venting all his anger. "It's better to go to the battlefield and listen to the sound of artillery bombardment instead of staying here and claiming to be useful. ——Did you hear Charles calling you?!"
"I heard it, I heard it!" Hank tried his best to explain at the time, "You pulled me too fast——"
"You have a pair of big blue feet that are at the level of a beast——" Erik said sarcastically, "——I can't see the purpose of its existence!"
"Get in now," he threw Hank to the study door with a stern expression, "play your role."
Hank adjusted his glasses, knocked on the door, and asked in confusion: "...Did the professor lock the door?"
He gave Erik a suspicious look.
"Because the great Charles Xavier didn't allow it," Erik took a deep breath and said with a livid face, "not allowing a bastard like me to take another look at his fainted son. Obviously, that's because he regarded me as a kidnapper. He thought I would take or hurt his child."
Hank was completely stunned after hearing this. His glasses slipped off his face, which looked funny, but it wasn't the "kidnapper" in Erik's words that made him so surprised.
"You said, I," he said inarticulately, "Wha, son——"
"His son had some problems and passed out, so he wants you to come in," Erik said impatiently, "You don't understand something."
"But -" Even though he was still a little stuttered, Hank finally found his language system. He said in confusion and shock, "But that kid - you must be talking about Francis - he -"
The door behind him opened open, revealing an expressionless face.
"Come in."
Charles said to Hank directly without looking at Erik, his tone was rare decisiveness.
Hank had a rare moment of sharpness at this time. He looked at Charles, then at Erik, and immediately realized that there was something he didn't know. Therefore, he did not ask "Why did Francis become the professor's son?" Without saying much, he immediately dodged into the study, and Charles slammed the door shut again in front of Erik.
Erik: "…………"
…………
Harry felt like a... unfortunate person under the wheels of a noisy car.
Everything is dark. He couldn't see anything and had no thoughts of his own. He could only feel something heavy pressing on his eyelids and brain. Time and time again, something heavy crushed his head. Sometimes it made him feel pain, and sometimes it made him feel hot and cold. When these happened together, he felt It was as loud as if ten thousand ducks were being slaughtered. All kinds of thoughts and words exploded in his head again and again. Even if Harry closed his eyes, he felt like something was exploding.
again and again. again and again
again and again.
Sometimes, there was no light in front of his eyes - but it was a gap, a gap of one or two seconds after a car ran over him, causing him pain and darkness, and before the next car arrived. The pain in my body won't stop, and neither will the pain in my heart.
And in this process of gradually becoming numb, Harry was unable to have too many thoughts.
——Did I do something wrong? Did I do something wrong? Am I going to suffer this because I didn't do what I was supposed to do?
After experiencing so much pain, is he going to die?
A kind of fear caused by suffocation suddenly surfaced in the consciousness along with other thoughts.
No...no...not yet, he can't...r...
Dad...It hurts...Dad...
ad…ad…
In the pain and darkness, he repeatedly called out to the person he relied on from the bottom of his heart, hoping to be rescued again and again. Fortunately, the waiting process did not last long.
After an unknown amount of time, Harry finally felt a consciousness, a force coming slowly like a gentle warm current, lifting him up from the cold and suffocating sea of consciousness, wrapping him up to isolate him from the pain, noise and Ice cold.
It felt so soft, so familiar.
dad. Harry thought.
Then he fell into a peaceful sleep.
…………
"……dad……"
After confirming that the potion was mixed correctly, Charles, who was about to turn around, heard the inaudible cry and couldn't help but stop.
The next moment, he rushed back to the bed with a speed that a person in a wheelchair should not have, staring closely at the patient's face. If Erik could break down that door and come in now, he would definitely suspect that he was Raven pretending to be, because how cold and hard Charles was to Erik half an hour ago, he was now so soft towards the child on the bed. This softness does not mean that he smiled or anything, but a softening from a white plaster statue to a flesh and blood body.
Charles stared at the boy on the bed without blinking. He took the boy's hands and put one against his cheek, as if that would make it less hot. But in fact, the boy was still hot all over, and every change in his body's temperature made Charles's heart skip a beat.
His other hand gently rubbed the boy's forehead, and his mind couldn't help but think about the future that he had not yet seen. He thought about whether children who grew up in love like this had suffered such hardships, and what his future self would do. Whether he will do better and be more competent than he is now.
"ad..."
The boy's chapped lips moved, and his almost instinctive cry for help made Charles tremble deep in his heart. He couldn't help but squeeze the child's hand tighter, and once again stretched out his spiritual tip to touch the depths of the boy's heart. His movements were gentle and deep because he didn't want to wake his son.
And once again, he discovered a suffocating chaos and darkness. He tried his best to isolate the filth, and gradually moved to protect the boy's personal consciousness. This method is more effective, but it cannot be done once and for all. Charles once thought of another way. He tried to share the pain, but the boy seemed to be maintaining some kind of barrier, refusing to let anyone share part of it.
Charles didn't know whether his future son was good at keeping secrets or enduring alone. He sincerely hoped it wasn't the latter. He hopes that he can be a strong and useful father, rather than a decadent and useless person.
"Ad here," Charles withdrew his mental touch, and kissed the back of the boy's hand, his voice was hoarse, his tone was intimate but he couldn't hide his sadness, "Don't be afraid. You will be fine - you will - you will be fine."
With the last sentence, he didn't know whether he was comforting his child or himself.
Hank stood not far from him and opened his mouth silently - usually not good at comforting people, he also wanted to say something. For example, "Type B Ability Explosion Syndrome" is not fatal, and they do not lack corresponding treatment equipment and medicines. , little Francis has passed the age when he is most sensitive to drugs. As long as he continues to receive treatment, he will be fine...
However, he felt that Charles must also know this, but he could also understand this, because if one of his children was sick, he would think about all the cases of death due to out-of-control abilities in such horror, and even if the child was not Charles's, Hank also witnessed with his eyes how much Charles loved him.
——In order to maintain the mysterious origin of this child in front of Erik, he lied to Erik that this was his son.
Hank recalled what Charles had said hastily to him after entering the door, and his heart
The situation suddenly became much more complicated. He had to say that the moment he heard this statement, he quickly understood where Erik's extraordinarily strong anger came from. He understands, understands, and forgives.
If Raven suddenly had a child and was wary of him as a criminal, he would probably collapse from shock.
But even with so many thoughts, Hank's hand didn't stop, and he didn't open the door for Erik who was pacing outside - yes, he could hear Erik's footsteps - he continued to quickly play with the words he was going to give Francis next time Injection of medicine, and from time to time, I have to check the thermometer to record the temperature of little Francis.
This child has been feeling hot all over his body, even if he is type B, it has been a long time. Hank thought. But he didn't tell Charles right away.
Type B Explosive Syndrome - an uncommon disease that only appears in mutants with several abilities. Putting aside all kinds of scientific explanations, the simplest explanation for this disease is that mutants who can withstand multiple abilities are too powerful. Originally, due to the instinct of species evolution, mutants have abilities that can accommodate and control them. However, when this mutant starts to lose control and goes berserk, there is a very low probability that his abilities will be lost. "Beat" in the "container".
The probability of it actually breaking out is very low. Most mutants only have one main ability. There are only a handful of such powerful composite mutants and they are extremely rare. Theoretically, Type B fulminant syndrome is not fatal unless the patient happens to have heart disease. But it can be very painful and can include fever, pneumonia, or temporary contraction of an organ.
Because of this, Hank feels that Francis' situation is more and more difficult. Generally speaking, it is difficult for a 13- or 14-year-old child to suffer from type B explosive syndrome, because the upper limit of the power that a growing child can contain and use is there. As the human body's own abilities, half of them Before children mature, as long as they are not under particularly great threats, they cannot even use their abilities freely, because they cannot control those energies, and their bodies automatically think that they may not be able to bear it.
——Unless they suffer from strong stimulation or life-threatening crisis.
Remembering that when he first came here, the boy showed signs of over-explosion, Hank couldn't help but become even more worried.
"I'm going to kill him."
Suddenly, Charles's voice sounded behind him, startling Hank.
"What?" Hank didn't react for a moment.
"I'm going to kill," Charles still held the boy's hand and stared at his face without blinking, but he spoke quickly, "the person who caused him to lie here now. The person who deserves to go to hell. Dirty, filthy ***—how dare he do that to—"
Hank was so frightened that he almost dropped the bottle in his hand. Having known Charles for so long, he had almost never heard the professor curse someone like this.
"Who?" Hank adjusted his glasses in confusion, "Professor, what are you talking about?"
Charles didn't answer Hank's question.
And when Hank gave Francis the third injection, Charles finally remembered that he had something to tell him.
"Call Sean and Raven over here." He said, "I have something to tell them."
Hank hesitated.
"Listen, Professor, maybe...I mean...should I call him Erik?"
"No," Charles said, "He doesn't need to know, we only need to cooperate on - external matters. Knowing too much is not good for the child..."
He stroked the boy's black hair and gently curled the ends of the already curly hair with his fingers. Even to Hank's eyes, it was still a brilliant gold, but the illusion was constructed by Charles, who had been looking at the boy's real face.
Charles hoped his child would wake up soon so he could make sure he didn't mess everything up again.
…………
When Erik saw the boy again, it was already the fourth day.
During this, ha, long period, even though he had long been allowed to live here with some of his subordinates and friends, Charles refused to let them live on the second floor. He asked them to live in the room farthest from "that boy" place, that is, the top floor, but as another collaborator, he was nowhere to be seen. Whenever Erik "involuntarily" paces in front of that door, or makes excuses to see Charles, someone will ask him to stay away. Sometimes it's Sean, sometimes it's Raven. The latter's expression is quite complicated, and she seems to understand. He sympathized with Erik who was annoyed by this incident, but also firmly asked him to stay away.
"You have to understand a father," she said. "You threatened him before, with that child."
Erik's voice was choked in his throat by her words - he was angry.
"I - don't know - that's his son." Erik said the words almost through his teeth. "He didn't say a word to me - they have no - no resemblance."
No. A detail suddenly popped into Erik's head.
telepathy. There are only a handful of people with such abilities, but if it is passed down from parents to their children, it is not surprising at all. Even if the mutant among the parents is particularly powerful, it is not surprising that the children have more wonderful and powerful abilities.
"You don't need to know the details." Raven had obviously been told. In this regard, she obeyed her brother's request unconditionally. "You see how important that child is to him. Erik, you'd better not challenge him again." His temper. Don't tell this to your subordinates, please - the current situation is turbulent, Charles cannot lose this child, we have to keep it a secret."
Erik was once again so angry that he couldn't speak. There are not many people who can make him "silent" like this, and there are not many people who dare to do so.
On the second night after the boy fell into a coma and fell asleep, his cousin, the boy who looked like he was an Englishman, also came over angrily. He rushed to the door and yelled something that Erik didn't understand (alaho or something), and the door creaked open, but before Erik could say anything else, the boy shouted "I'm going to kill him." , rushed in without looking.
Erik wanted to see the boy come out in a few minutes with an unhappy face, but after waiting for a long time, he didn't wait until the boy was blasted out like Sean.
This made Erik feel even worse. Obviously, to Charles, the child's cousin is not a "threat" or "useless", he considers such a little boy "trustworthy". Where does this trust come from? Is this boy who is said to be a cousin a relative on the child's mother's side?
Erik wanted to know more about the joy, but he soon discovered that even Raven was not allowed to enter the room freely. Only Hank and this "cousin of Charles's son" were allowed to stay in the room for a long time. As for Sean and Raven, who occasionally entered the room and had known the boy for a little longer, the former didn't know any useful information, and Erik didn't expect to pry out any information from the latter.
Erik could only watch helplessly as the door closed tightly in front of him - this happened many times - and each time, the extremely loud "clang" sound was like a slap in the face. superior.
So, to repeat - when he finally saw the child, it was already the fourth day. By the fourth day, Erik was genuinely wondering why Charles didn't just kick him out of the house.
And he didn't expect that he would see the boy so soon.
…………
When Harry regained consciousness, he found that his condition was much better.
He no longer felt the throbbing pain, the strong pressure, or the hot and cold sensations. He instinctively took a deep breath, which silenced the room for a few seconds before it erupted into excitement.
"Merlin's boxer briefs, finally."
Harry vaguely heard r complaining in a exhausted tone.
he does not
An Di moved, raised his right hand slightly, and was gently held by a big hand belonging to an adult.
Harry didn't need to open his eyes to know who was holding his hand, even though his head was still groggy and his eyelids were heavy.
dad. He did not open his eyes, but he was speaking very hard, and wanted to smile and comfort the person sitting next to his bed. Then he was shocked by the hoarseness of his voice - he did not become mute, but He couldn't make any decent sound at all, only some pitchless breathy sounds.
Tick tock.
Harry didn't open his eyes, but he felt the gentle kisses and tears falling on the back of his hands, as well as the sweaty palms. He immediately regretted that he had not endured it a little longer, at least not to fall down in front of his father.
Just think about it and you will know how worried Charles would be!
But before Harry could say "I'm sorry," Charles' kiss fell on his forehead.
I don’t know why, but unlike Charles who gradually restrained himself as his son grew up, the current Charles likes to express his love and comfort to his son with kisses.
"Shh, shh," Charles whispered in his ear, "don't say anything. You're not fully recovered yet."
How many days have I been unconscious? Harry couldn't help but think.
At the same time, he finally got rid of the heaviness on his eyelids and opened his eyes. At first, he thought that after sleeping for so long, the light would definitely hit his eyes. However, when he opened his eyes, he found that all the curtains in the room were drawn up, and the only light source was far away from the bed.
And his father, Charles, was leaning tightly against his bed, holding his hand tightly, with a haggard look that Harry was unfamiliar with on that familiar face, and a kind of joy that was just revealed. Harry could hardly stop staring at his dad - what was with those dark circles, what was with those thin lines, and the beard, where was the beard? How long has his father been staying here? Did he really eat and sleep well?
"Hi, dear," at this moment, Charles still didn't care about his image. He only cared about cutting Harry's hair, groping his ears, and then asked him warmly, "Did you sleep well?" I'll get you some water."
Before Harry could say "yes" or "no", his pillow was silently raised. Oh, that person also made a cold snort from his nose.
Y turned his head away and silently called that person's name.
It's... magical.
"Shut up." R growled.
He seemed to have just been fished out of the winter water, trembling in a not very subtle way. He seemed to have just breathed a sigh of relief, but he still forced himself to face Harry with an angry face, "When you can speak again - I will settle the score with you. You owe me."
Ah, this is an r who is not too angry, but must be in a bad mood.
Harry knew this, but at the moment he could only smile at him apologetically.
"He's right." Hank couldn't help but speak after them. "I'm sorry, I know this is a happy moment, but I really want to ask, what is that light? Why does it have a healing effect?"
"Hank!" Charles shouted quickly.
Light?
Harry blinked and looked at Hank subconsciously, and immediately, the scene in Hank's mind gave him the answer: when a violent R rushed in and fell to the side of his bed with a splash because of the momentum, there was a golden, radiating Lines of light flashed for a second or two, linking between them. Immediately, like an illusion, Harry saw a shallow light emerge from Hank's memory. Then, the Harry coughed a few times unconsciously, startling everyone, including the linked r. In person, his face could be described as blank.
That ray of light appeared very suddenly and disappeared even more suddenly. Before everyone could react, the specially-made electronic
The thermometer beeped.
His fever is gone! Hank in Hank's memory yelled.
Harry quickly closed his eyes and covered the front with his hands - if he didn't stop, he would see more of Hank's memories.
r was frightened by his actions and jumped up: "What's wrong with your eyes?! Do you feel pain anywhere else? Merlin, don't scare me!"
"It's nothing," Harry said vaguely, "It's just...can't close it..."
After fainting like this, his originally calm ability seemed to be... less controllable again. This is probably the sequelae of emergency self-defense.
Others may not understand, but Charles immediately understood what he meant. He turned the wheelchair and glanced around: "Everyone, get out."
"What?!" R yelled, with an "Are you kidding me" expression on his face, "I'm not going out!"
He finally waited until Harry was out of danger and woke up! He had a lot of questions, and now Harry's father actually let him go out?
"Then at least turn your back. I'm going to guide him to stabilize his abilities." Charles' eyes held a warning, "Do you want him to see all the secrets in your heart? He wouldn't be willing to do that himself."
After saying that, he motioned with his eyes to Hank to take R out, then turned to Harry, held his son's hand, looked at him, and began to guide him softly:
"Francis, listen to me, you have to empty your mind now and let yourself enter peace... Yes, that's it..."
Harry complied with all instructions. Charles also taught and guided him in this way when he was very young, and his theory and operation of this process were not very formal.
Gradually, under the guidance of Charles's gentle and slow voice, Harry was able to find the key to the ability to "turn off".
Click. He mentally simulated the sound of a switch being flipped.
"Yes, that's it, good boy," Charles smiled as soon as he noticed that Harry's mental power was no longer scattered. There was a hint of pride in that smile, "Now, you can try to open your eyes."
Harry did so.
This time, when he looked at R and Hank who turned around and stared into their eyes, his mind was clear - the switch was indeed turned off.
but……
Harry couldn't help but focus on r. He stared at his friend without saying a word, but a face that looked very similar to his friend flashed in his mind. It was a face with more stretched lines, colder and more mature lines. These extra parts would make the face look a little strange, but the familiar parts were enough to remind Harry of his best friend.
Platinum blonde hair. Grey-blue eyes. A look as if he was about to die. Blood, daggers, poison—
Harry opened his mouth without blinking, but no words came out.
"What?" r was confused by what he saw, and even felt a little guilty. He rubbed his arm, walked closer, and asked Harry, "What are you looking at?"
Harry shook his head, indicating that he was fine, and just silently squeezed his father's hand to feel a little more at ease.
Charles also felt his silent nervousness and reached out to pat his son on the back.
"It's going to be okay," he said soothingly, without meaning, "Trust me, everything will be okay."
…………
Erik had imagined Charles' children.
Not just thinking about it casually, not as a joke or conjecture, but very seriously and painfully thinking about "Charles having a family" as a future event, and here, he doesn't want to think about it. He didn't want to see the woman's face, but he would think about what kind of child Charles would have.
That kid will definitely... look a lot like Charles. Same soft brown hair, blue
The eyes, the same amiable features and Scottish accent. As a child, his or her face may be much rounder than Charles's, and more childish and cute, but Erik believes that he or she must also have a rather intelligent side, and must be knowledgeable and considerate.
Yes, his imagination had reached this level of detail, but even so, he never thought that such a child would "really" appear in front of him.
——It is obviously a good pastime to come to the living room at eight o'clock in the evening, sit on the sofa, watch something and get something to eat. At least Erik, who was overwhelmed with work, met Charles' "son" who was just recovering from a serious illness.
Specifically, when he walked in there to pick up the documents and books he had left there, he saw "that child" actually appearing there.
At first, he didn't recognize the child, because the latter changed from a mixed-race child with blond hair and light-colored eyes to a black-haired, green-eyed child... Anyway, Erik knew that there was nothing wrong with the appearance of the British. Characteristics, but perhaps psychological, he thought the boy's current appearance was that of a typically Englishman. If Erik hadn't remembered that Raven had reminded him that the child had the ability to change his appearance and had disguised himself, so it was best not to misidentify him, he would have suspected that there was a third child living here.
With compound abilities and an age before puberty, this is indeed the type of type B syndrome that will break out.
The boy was obviously recovering from a serious illness, and his face was still a little pale, but when he sat there, arranging the documents on the table, neither his expression nor his movements made it seem like he had fainted just a few days ago, and even... Da Yiyi looked like he couldn't sleep. Moreover, it was difficult for Erik not to think about the last time he saw this child - this boy brought down all the subordinates he brought, was not afraid of any threats, did not accept any persuasion, and only listened to Charles's request. He cares about what Charles thinks, and because there is no similarity in appearance, even if the boy is so loyal, Erik never thought that he and Charles would have a father-son relationship - Charles has always been a person who is too easily attracted to others. Gain the sincere love and affection of others.
He should have discovered it then. Erik thought ruefully. If it weren't for the fact that Charles' protectiveness towards his children seemed so natural.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Lensherr."
Before Erik could sort out the appropriate thoughts from his messy thoughts, the boy greeted him as if he had eyes on his head and gathered the documents faster in his hands. It seemed that these things had been sorted out before Erik arrived. The boy finally waved his hand, and the sorted papers floated on their own, and then returned to order.
"I'm sorry. Sean accidentally messed up these things before. I taught him a lesson." The boy was not afraid of strangers at all. After he finished speaking, he pushed the document to Erik and picked up the book from the sofa next to him. Turning to one of the pages, "Are you here to get them? I have rearranged them."
Erik was annoyed by Sean's troublesome behavior, but he was even more surprised by the child's boldness and self-assertion - he actually dared to express friendship to a person who threatened him and his father, and he didn't pretend that nothing happened, but was real. She was very relaxed when facing him, as if she was sure he wouldn't hurt her.
He seems to be exactly the same as Charles in this regard. Erik thought this subconsciously, but then the thought stung his heart.
So he was silent for a long time.
Then, with an emotion that he couldn't tell whether he was cautious or nervous, he spoke to the boy coldly and stiffly: "You shouldn't be here - Charles will definitely want you to rest well in your room."
He struggled to recall the boy's name - Francis. It sounds like a French or Italian name. Anyway, it's not Charles' naming style, and Erik doubts its authenticity.
The boy raised his head after hearing this, and Erik was a little disappointed and a little happy to find that the face with a slight smile was a pair of calm green eyes, not the pair of E
rik's familiar blue eyes.
He might be more like his mother. A beautiful woman with green eyes. Erik couldn't help but picture the woman's face.
"Well, that's true, but we have reached a consensus - walking around the house will be helpful for recovery." The boy's voice was clear and gentle. As he spoke, he also gathered up a goose-yellow shawl. "After all, no matter who you are, your feet will become soft after sleeping for four days in a row. Always sleeping in bed is not the result I want." After saying that, he moved a little on the sofa and focused on his hands again. On the book inside, the cover of the book had words that Erik couldn't understand. It seemed to be some ancient book.
Erik couldn't deny it.
He took a few steps forward, trying to resist the urge to stare at the child. He planned to grab what he wanted and leave, but when he picked up the document and flipped through a few pages, he stopped.
Erik expected to see files in reverse order or miscategorization, but it was clear that the boy was really sorting them out. This information was originally just collected information, hastily screened and then piled on the table. While Charles was focusing on staying by his son's bedside, Erik's progress was not very optimistic, so these were forgotten. In the living room.
But now, the documents in his hand have obviously been screened twice - they were classified according to certain conditions, bound again, and the order of arrangement was changed according to certain rules, and relevant information notes were also posted. on adjacent files. This saves Erik a lot of effort when reading.
Erik couldn't help but stare at the boy again.
The black-haired child is still sitting on the sofa reading a book in a more relaxed posture. He was concentrating on reading the book in his hand, his fingers unconsciously groping at some key places, and a very quiet and imperceptible smile on his face. After a while, Erik saw him draw up one leg and curl up slightly.
This child's every move, look, smile, and even his expression while reading made Erik feel in a trance. He didn't know if he should lament the magic of blood. This boy might not have much in common with his father in appearance, but Erik thought he looked a lot like Charles in some other ways - the kind of person you'd see if you'd seen one of them. One will connect the other to that extent.
For example, they are all very focused when reading, and for example, their postures and expressions when reading are exactly the same. It is difficult for people who are not very familiar with them to spot this similarity.
Erik had never heard of Charles raising a child for a long time, and he could only classify this strange feeling of similarity as "the mystery of blood."
"These," the sentence slipped out before Erik realized he had spoken, "did you sort it out by yourself?"
The boy thought for a while, put down the book in his hand, sat up a little straighter, and nodded: "Yes, that's right."
After all, you can't expect Sean to understand this. The boy, that is, Harry, cursed in his mind.
"Can you read them?" Erik asked.
There are some records in the data that are not all in English. Because the people responsible for detecting intelligence have people of different nationalities. Moreover, for children of this age, these materials involving politics, physics, biology and even national conditions are not very easy to understand, let alone sorting and arranging and combining the information.
"It's not difficult," Harry replied shortly, "I've taken a few different language courses."
"You obviously know how to classify them," Erik stared at the boy, his expression unchanged, "and you did a good job."
"...Oh," Harry smiled awkwardly, not understanding what Erik was thinking about with this compliment, "...thank you."
"Someone taught you this." Erik replied in an affirmative tone, "Charles?"
Harry shook his head subconsciously - no, it was Ea who taught him to learn this, because the twins really didn't like doing this at all. Then, he realized that he had reacted too quickly, and quickly picked up the cup and took a sip of warm water to cover up the discomfort on his face.
Erik gritted his teeth.
"Your mother," Erik said as if squeezing out toothpaste, "is she MoiraMTaggert?"
Although he didn't like that woman, he remembered her shrewdness and ability.
"puff------"
Harry squirted out and looked at Erik in shock.
——He knew how Charles had lied to Erik about the children, but had the anger finally made his Uncle Erik unable to count? !
