Bruce raised his head slightly and observed the situation in the hall. Probably because he had been shot in the chest and kicked, the killer thought that he was dead. At least, he had lost the ability to fight back and did not pay any attention to him.
Bruce endured the pain in his chest. In the past, this kind of pain was nothing to him. But now, perhaps because he had lived in peace for too long, he actually found it unbearable. Bruce showed a self-deprecating expression and then adjusted his breathing.
This was a small trick that he had learned in many battles. By adjusting his breathing and muscles, he could slow down the flow of blood to reduce blood loss and accumulate energy for the next battle.
The people who had been scattered around the hall, chatting in twos and threes, or admiring the decorations in the room, had all fallen. To cause such a situation, it was probably because the food had been drugged. Bruce guessed. Had he been shot because he had not touched the food?
Bruce smiled bitterly at this thought. He could not tell if it was worse to be drugged or shot.
The only person who could have done this was the servant who walked through the hall to serve them. He just did not know if there was only one killer or a group. The host of this event, Bellanck, had fallen unconscious not far from him.
At the moment, a person dressed as a servant was walking around the hall. He paused in front of every person who had fallen, as if he was observing something.
Soon, the person walked past Bruce. Bruce had already lowered his head secretly. He was now lying on the ground. There was a pool of blood under him that even dyed the ground red. His face was facing where Walter had fallen. He had already adjusted himself, making his eyes look unfocused. He was thankful for his experience in the space of reincarnation, which allowed him to be so "versatile". However, he refused to recall those desperate battles where he had to rely on pretending to be dead to numb the enemy to win.
The man obviously did not care about Bruce at all. He walked past Bruce and came to Walter's side. After staring at Walter for a while, he laughed strangely and murmured, "That's it, beautiful sorcerer. I'll give you …" He stroked Walter's face and was about to carry him up.
With a bang, the door was suddenly pushed open, and a few people barged in. The culprit immediately pointed his gun at Walter in shock. Bruce was looking in that direction. He saw that Hotch and Morgan were leading the group, followed by a few police officers. It had been less than ten minutes since he asked for help.
"FBI, put down the gun in your hand," Hotch said as he slowly approached the murderer.
Brosnan clearly saw Hotch's solemn expression turn into one of pain as he glanced at his fallen body. A feeling flashed through Bruce's mind that he didn't have time to capture. Perhaps it was some kind of acknowledgment, but it also seemed to be a bit of joy.
Bruce's unfocused eyes moved and blinked at him.
Hotch suddenly tightened his grip on the gun.
"Don't come over. If you move again, I'll kill her," the murderer shouted. Facing the police officers who barged in through the door, he wrapped his left arm around Walter's neck and pointed the gun at Walter's temple with his right hand.
"You won't. You haven't achieved your goal. Are you going to kill her just like that?" Morgan stepped forward and said with certainty.
"What? Don't come over! "The murderer screamed as if he was provoked.
"Just like everyone you've killed before, a fatal stab to the heart. This is some kind of ritual, isn't it? Put down the gun. Where's your knife? "Morgan took another step forward.
"Ah! I said don't move! Put down the gun! " The murderer seemed to be shocked and lost control. He screamed hysterically, his hand trembling as he pressed the gun against Walter's temple.
"Okay, okay, I won't move. I'll put down the gun," Morgan said calmly. Morgan immediately said in a calm tone. He slowly lowered his hand and put the gun back into the holster on his waist. Then, he raised his empty hands.
The murderer heaved a sigh of relief.
At that moment, Bruce, whose back was facing the murderer, used his right hand to support his upper body from the ground. A dagger appeared in his left hand.
Bruce swung his left arm and a silver light shot out from his left hand, hitting the murderer's right arm that was holding the gun. He had no time to pay attention to what happened next. His left arm used up all the strength he had accumulated in his body. The wound that was only bleeding slowly due to the adjustment of his body started to bleed again.
Bruce's vision turned black and he almost collapsed on the ground. He tried to control himself from losing consciousness completely. He saw Rossi and Prentiss' anxious gazes coming from behind. The worry in their eyes made Bruce turn his head uncomfortably. He saw the murderer screaming and holding the place where he was shot by the dagger. The gun had already fallen to the ground and he was immediately subdued by Morgan.
"Paramedics are needed here. Immediately," Hotch said urgently into the walkie-talkie on his left wrist.
Soon, Bruce was put on a stretcher. When he was about to be sent to the ambulance, Bruce struggled to raise his hand.
His team members immediately surrounded him. "What's wrong, Bruce?"
Bruce looked around at everyone and his eyes finally fell on the paramedics. He tried to reach out to his face. Soon, someone understood what he meant and asked the paramedics to take off the oxygen mask on his face.
"Don't … inject … me … with … anesthetics …" Bruce panted and tried to express his meaning. He couldn't lose consciousness, because once he lost consciousness, the Super Regeneration Factor in his body would fully restore his body. He didn't want to compare the speed of his body's restoration with the speed of the scalpel, just to take out a bullet from his body.
"But …" The paramedics wanted to say something.
"No." Bruce turned to look at Hotch with a firm gaze.
"Do as he says." Hotch made a decision immediately.
The oxygen mask was brought back to Bruce's face and the ambulance roared away.
oo00oo
Bruce opened his eyes. There was a faint light by the window. He looked around in the dim environment. The monitoring equipment and the IV drip beside him told him where he was.
He suddenly recalled what happened yesterday and an indescribable expression appeared on his face. It felt so good to perform surgery without anesthesia and especially to stay awake. When the bullet in his chest was taken out and he was pushed out of the operating theater, he fell into a deep sleep almost immediately.
He should have just fallen asleep and not passed out, right? Bruce touched his chest with uncertainty. The tingling sensation immediately invaded his brain and Bruce breathed a sigh of relief.
Feeling that he was fine, Bruce called the paramedics and asked to be discharged. Of course, he was rejected. When Bruce finished his breakfast and was about to talk to the paramedics about being discharged, he had his first visitor of the day.
Reid's medium-length hair was a little messy and the obvious bags under his eyes showed that he did not sleep well last night. He walked into the ward and saw Bruce sitting up and leaning against the bed. He was pleasantly surprised.
"Good morning, Bruce. It's good to see you awake." Reid walked to the bedside. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine. I want to be discharged now." That way, he could heal the wound on his own and not have to endure the constant pain. He felt that he was almost numb from the pain.
"Of course not." Reid, who had always been easy to talk to, rejected him sternly. "Yesterday, you almost …" Reid bit his lip and turned his head away.
"What?" Bruce did not quite understand why Reid said it was so serious. This kind of wound that did not hit the heart or other organs should be completely minor. At most, he would have lost a lot of blood. It should be easy to be treated at the hospital.
"You almost did not make it through the surgery." Reid took a deep breath.
Impossible! Bruce was sure that he was conscious. Although he could no longer sense the outside world, he could feel his own condition at all times. The pain was like gangrene attached to the bone.
Reid saw that he did not believe him and said with some difficulty, "Your heart stopped beating for a few minutes. The doctor gave up. Fortunately …"
Feeling that something was wrong, Bruce thought about it. Although he seemed to have felt good for a period of time, no pain, full of strength …
"So, I'm also a medical miracle?" Unable to figure it out, Bruce threw it to the back of his mind. When he saw Reid's expression, he held Reid's hand and looked straight into his eyes. "Am I not here? I'm fine now. Spencer, look at me. "
Prentiss and JJ walked in together with a bouquet of flowers. JJ and Prentiss looked at each other and smiled meaningfully. "It seems that we came at the wrong time."
"What?" Bruce was a little confused. He let go of Reid's hand and took the flowers. Prentiss and JJ gave him a hug.
"Get well soon."
"Thank you. By the way, my favorite flower is hyacinth." Bruce smiled.
"You and Reid must have a lot to talk about. We'll go first."
Bruce and Reid watched the two of them come and go in a hurry. They were both puzzled. Wait, why do I have a lot to talk about with Reid (Bruce)?!
After a while, Reid said, "By the way, why did you ask not to inject anesthesia for the surgery yesterday? You know, the human brain will judge the information from the pain nerves, so …"
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