My Heroic Life

He rolled his eyes left and right, and found that in addition to the medical area on one side of the room, there is also a living area on the other side. On the patterned carpet is a well-decorated sofa, and in front is a terminal device that can play holographic projections and current affairs. News, brightly colored fruits are placed on the small table, and beside the table is a sleeping beauty.

That's right, Sleeping Beauty.

At this time, on the sofa facing Roland was leaning against a pale blonde beauty in a strapless sleeveless top. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was steady. Her complexion was milky white and her face was calm as an angel, but she felt her The evil of temptation.

It was Joan who was resting, his beauty was breathtaking, and the young man's heartbeat speeded up for an instant. He stared at the side of the sleeping girl for a long time before finally retracting his gaze and swallowing.

Hey, this girl has become more and more evil after the change, terrible.

Although the former Joan of Arc was also good-looking, he still had a sense of sacredness that could be seen from a distance. However, after becoming the Witch of the Dragon, this sense of sacredness not only disappeared, but also mutated in the opposite direction, becoming a kind of The breath of death tempts the beauty of crime.

Hey, it's so hard. Fortunately, there has been a lot of bleeding recently and the firepower is not so strong.

Roland moved his body and found that he was not as stiff as he had imagined. He lifted the quilt and glanced at the vicinity of the belly button in his memory, and found that it was intact as before, and there were no scars left.

Okay, just treat it as an appendix.

Recalling the pain before he was in a coma, he squeezed his face, stretched out his hand to grab the water glass on one table and drank it, and then found something on his hand.

"Ah, this is... As expected, it is true in the dream."

Roland looked at the ring on his hand, a familiarity and nostalgia came to him spontaneously, and the memory in his mind became clearer, giving him a strange feeling.

He began to organize information along the lines of memory, from the past to the present, from the acquaintance to the recent reunion, and finally to the battle of that night...Then the youth's face became stiff.

"Me, me, do I have a domestic violence?"

Roland stared at the ceiling with wide-eyed eyes. If he had magical power in his sight, he could probably pierce the ceiling. Thinking back to everything that night, his legs trembled in fear.

"Damn it, I did this? This, this is a person?"

He thought that the punch might actually kill Morgan's attack, and he felt a chill in his body. Although he subconsciously discounted his hand to prevent all this, the aftermath still hurt her a lot.

More than that, Marda, Altria, and even Joan, who was sitting not far away, were hurt by himself. He still remembers how the two girls who embraced his arms were injured and coughed up blood.

So who are they?

In terms of external relations, it is the two friendly forces who have taken the initiative to assist him, as well as a saint who has just saved him and a saint who has just saved him.

In terms of internal relations, one is his favorite student, the other is his past lover, and the remaining two are girls who are like family and lovers.

"Ah, it's over, it's all over."

Roland now has no time to worry about cutting the relationship between men and women that he has been arguing for two lifetimes. He hit four at a time. Now he feels that he is socially dead, and he is in unprecedented despair.

What will they think of themselves when they meet again?Even if they have the ability to use side effects as an excuse, but a person who almost killed them, will they still treat them as before?Why not be disgusting?Anyone who is normal will have a grudge after changing it.

When he thought of Morgan looking at him with a look of fear and disgust, Roland had a doomsday illusion, comparable to an old father whose daughter said "I hate dad the most".

"Heh, hehe."

Mr. Roland, the chief judge, lost the light in his eyes.

Domestic violence has reached this level. This is no longer a scumbag. It is scraps, scraps in people. Living a waste of air and dead wastes land. Probably only after the shark is raised can we reduce pollution.

Roland was blindly shutting himself in bed, but didn't notice that his drastic psychological changes caused various values ​​to be abnormal, and the abnormality was immediately reported to the medical staff by the machine AI that was constantly monitoring.

The nurse in a white coat rang the doorbell, and a soft voice rang, which instantly awakened Joan of Arc, who was resting. The long eyelashes of the dragon witch separated her upper and lower eyes. She stood up suddenly and looked around the room. He came to the door and said a few words with the nurse who came to check on the situation, and then the two came to Roland's bed together.

For the time being, the man who was still faceless facing Joan chose to pretend to sleep tactically. At this time, he was breathing steady with his eyes closed. The nurse checked the various values ​​and found that they had returned to normal.

"Master Joan, the value is normal. Maybe the judge had a nightmare before, but it has now recovered."

"So...huh?"

Jeanne, who originally thought Roland had a problem, breathed a sigh of relief. She looked at the man on the bed affectionately, and suddenly found that the quilt was a bit messy, slightly different from the position she covered with her hands before falling asleep. She raised her eyebrows and couldn't bear it. Live uttered a question.

"Master Joan?"

"Oh, it's okay, you can go back now."

"Well, you can call me whenever you need to."

"Ok."

The nurse left, and Jeanne stared at Roland's face for a while, then suddenly asked, "Are you awake?"

"..."

"She's gone, don't pretend."

"..."

"Hey, did you hear that?"

"..."

"Did I remember wrong?"

There was no response to shouting several times, and Joan couldn't help muttering to herself with some suspicion. Roland, lying down, strengthened her confidence and decided to pretend to sleep for a while and think about how to face them.

However, all these plans were broken by a hand that got into the quilt.

"Forget it, check again."

Joan took Roland's pulse with one hand, and started stroking down his bare chest with one hand, but before he could touch it halfway, the dragon witch turned red, staring at the man and gritted her teeth:

"When do you want to pretend to sleep until? Idiot! You have a tent underneath!"

Chapter One Hundred and Thirty Eight

A few hours ago.

Joan stared at the information displayed on the terminal in a daze. The whole brain felt as heavy as lead filled, and the body was cold.

Four days have passed since the night of life and death in Paris. During the four days, the whole of Europe has undergone tremendous changes. The ruling class has almost changed. The headquarters of the Tribunal has suffered heavy casualties. The frontline warfare has not stopped. It can be said to be busy. It's not surprising that the sky is upside down.

In this process, there are constantly good news coming in, and bad news constantly being born, but these, good or bad, can hardly affect Joan, who is now the dragon witch, except for one.

That is the information now in the hands of Joan.

It was not military affairs, nor internal affairs, but an investigation report on a former British Knights of the Round Table.

That is the life experience of a man named Yin Lan, a knight who first followed the King of Knights, the only knight of guards, stayed with the King in almost every battle, and finally was in the national battle with Vutikeng. In the sacrifice, he is a brave and fearless person.

If this is the case, then it's okay. Jeanne won't have any sighs. At most, she would appreciate the loyalty of this exotic knight, but what made her unacceptable was that this was actually Roland's clone.

According to many witnesses who have experienced war in Britain, in the final stage of the war, there was a magical envoy on the battlefield. Votigeng also fought with a mysterious figure and was seriously injured, despite the efforts of the British spy agencies and Yin Lan The reason for the change of face has not been found out in any country, but Joan of Arc now knows.