My American magical life
Chapter 733 - 733 16 The Jianghu is Perilous Who Does Not Regret_2

733: Chapter 16: The Jianghu is Perilous, Who Does Not Regret?_2 733: Chapter 16: The Jianghu is Perilous, Who Does Not Regret?_2 It’s not just good, Domo reminded Cheng Daqi twice, warning him that Eris was bad news.

But now his sincere and genuine friend was locked up with Eris, the poisonous snake, and Domo found it very strange.

“Yeah, we are friends, he is a good man.”

As Eris said this, his face broke into a warm smile.

There was a surveillance camera to his upper left, so Eris didn’t dare to speak recklessly.

He had given up trying to guess what Cheng Daqi and Gru were thinking by now, one was as cunning as a demon, and the other was as mad as a fiend; he couldn’t outplay either of them.

The West Coast was a place of remarkable people and a spiritual land, and now Eris was thoroughly convinced.

“I am a good person too, hey, why would they arrest me…”

The chubby chef’s round face was twisted with confusion, rolling back and forth on the narrow bed.

He had rolled around all night, unable to comprehend why he had been captured.

He had asked this question more than a dozen times, but Eris, who knew the reason, never answered.

It seemed like they were both in dire straits, yet Domo had a good father.

Eris did not.

What you pursue, you must respect.

Eris had been searching for twenty years, and now, his spine was broken under the weight of what he pursued.

He sat desiccated on his bed, using meditation to resist the despair.

“Breakfast, come and get it!”

The slot in the door was opened and two meal trays were pushed in; Domo nearly flew over to them.

But looking at the food on the tray, the poor kid was close to tears.

What is all this?

“Officer, we…”

“Bang!”

The slot was slammed shut, and the words Domo didn’t manage to say were blocked behind the tightly closed door.

“This is wrong, this is not right.”

The fat chef muttered to himself, thinking there was something very wrong with this peculiar arrest and imprisonment; he hadn’t even seen a lawyer yet.

The detention cell grew quiet, and Domo placed a meal tray next to Eris, then sat back down on the narrow bed, worrying over the not-so-OK food.

But the hunger gnawing at his stomach was too powerful, and in the end, he clenched his teeth and ate it anyway.

Two minutes later, Domo licked his lips, glanced at Eris across from him, then surreptitiously peeked at the meal tray by Eris’s leg.

His eyes were like those of a crazed rat in a famine, and after several seconds, Domo slightly pursed his lips and then, in dejection, hung his head and scraped at the bottom of the plate.

The well-off fat young master was just about to start licking it.

No, in truth, it wasn’t much different—he had begun licking the spoon—convincing himself in his delusion that this act was at least more dignified than directly licking the plate.

The pampered fat young master, trapped in the cell, had such a meager meal, he meticulously scraped the food residues with the spoon along the curved bottom of the plate and then put the spoon in his mouth.

After licking the spoon one last time and seeing the plate as clean as a mirror, Domo looked up satisfied, just in time to lock eyes with Eris’s calm and infinitely sorrowful gaze.

Domo froze; he could sense that the man opposite him seemed very sad.

No, it was not sadness, but a suffocating despair, a struggle for breath within the calm.

This despair was like the silent coming of dusk, Eris hadn’t said a word, hadn’t moved an inch, yet Domo still felt it.

“Mr.

Eris, you don’t need to worry too much, I know this might involve a political struggle, um, my father, Mr.

Wolf, will help us solve it, let’s eat first.”

The West Coast dream chaser summoned a smile and said softly.

“I don’t really feel like eating, if you’re still not full, you can have my share.”

Domo wanted to eat, but what fatso doesn’t care about face?

He waved his hands repeatedly, saying.

“No need!

No need!

Mr.

Eris, you also didn’t sleep all night, you…”

“I can gain energy from meditation, Domo, we’re friends after all, just eat it.”

The fat chef was taken aback; he wasn’t quite sure if what Eris said was true, but Eris had indeed meditated all night.

The main point was, he was too hungry.

“Then, may I eat it?”

He asked tentatively, with a mix of anticipation and shame.

“Hmm.”

Eris smiled and nodded, even passing over his share of the food to Domo.

The cell was very narrow, less than a meter separated them, and Domo somewhat dazedly accepted Eris’s gift.

He was somewhat impatient in his heart, but his reason reminded him that something was odd.

But Eris, the sly fox, was so considerate, handing the food to Domo and then closing his eyes to continue his meditation, greatly easing Domo’s mental pressure.

He looked at the food in his hand, bit his teeth, and picked up the spoon.

Worst comes to worst, I’ll treat him for a year after we get out; I’m not short on money!

Soon after finishing the second portion, Domo emptily placed the tray aside.

He wanted to get up and move around, but the cell was so small that in the end, he just lay back down on the bed.

Looking up at the ceiling surveillance, Domo wondered if someone on the other side was watching him.

He pulled a face and then shifted to lie on his side, turning his back on Eris.

This was not because Domo disliked Eris, but in such a cramped environment, he needed a sense of what one might call safety on a psychological level.

“Domo, I have a brother named Desel Eris.”

“He’s a bad man, um, in every sense of the word, but if I don’t make it out, Domo, I hope you find someone to control him, don’t let him do anything foolish.”