Picking Up a Doomsday Girl 2

The girl was covered in blood, leaning against the wall motionless, her eyes closed.

The spotlight shone directly on her face, but she didn't react at all, as if she had fainted.

I was stunned for a moment.

The vengeful spirit that appeared in this abandoned construction site late at night was actually a young girl?

No, apart from being "covered in blood," this girl was nothing like the vengeful spirit I'd heard about.

So, she's a living human? But why is she so seriously injured, and why is she wearing a hospital gown in such a deserted place?

Now is not the time to think about these things. Since she's a severely injured living person, what I should do most naturally goes without saying.

I quickly walked up to her and squatted down, using my amateur knowledge to check her vital signs while taking out my phone to call for an ambulance.

At the same time, I carefully observed her appearance.

She looked about thirteen or fourteen, still in junior high school. Although her cheeks were stained with blood, it was clear she had a proper and tender beauty. Her skin, so delicate it seemed to break if you blew on it, was dazzlingly white under the light. Her head was tilted pitifully, and her medium-length black hair flowed down to one of her shoulders.

The blue and white striped hospital gown she wore was severely torn in multiple places, with deep red blood seeping through. This was definitely not the kind of injury one would get from accidentally falling on the road or tripping down the stairs; it was evidence of fatal violence. There must have been a cold-blooded, cruel thug wielding a sharp weapon.

The blood was very fresh, meaning she could only have been injured nearby.

The thug is nearby!

I scanned my surroundings, listening intently, but I didn't detect any movement from a third party. However, I didn't let my guard down.

It seemed I'd have to make another call to the police later.

However, I didn't expect that I wouldn't even get a chance to call for an ambulance. Just as I was about to press the dial button, the girl suddenly raised her arm and, with a strength that didn't match her tender appearance, grabbed my wrist holding the phone.

She weakly opened her eyes, her consciousness seemed unclear, and I didn't even know if she could see my face clearly.

"Don't call the police..." she whispered these words, her voice barely audible.

After speaking, her eyes closed again, but her hand still stubbornly rested on my wrist. No matter how much I called her, I couldn't wake her.

Don't call the police? Why?

I couldn't comply with her request. Regardless of whether I called the police or not, I was definitely going to call an ambulance. I wasn't so cold-hearted as to stand by and watch a stranger die. And when the hospital saw her condition, they would definitely contact the authorities.

That's what I originally thought.

But soon, I realized I didn't even need to call for an ambulance.

I removed her hand, and at that moment, as her hospital gown was pulled by the movement, I saw the skin exposed beneath the tear in her clothes.

Her skin looked completely unharmed.

I immediately realized something was wrong. Disregarding the impropriety between men and women, I reached out to check her injuries under her clothes.

I didn't know until I checked. As soon as I did, I touched another very serious problem—through her shirt, I felt something incredibly unfamiliar, hard, and cold. Lifting the hem of her shirt, I saw a menacing object tucked inside.

The palpable killing intent turned into an unprecedented chill that shot straight to the base of my skull.

It was a handgun!

I took out the handgun in disbelief and examined it repeatedly. Even an amateur like me could tell it was a real gun!

Furthermore, if my examination of the girl's body was accurate, she was actually completely unharmed.

If that's the case, why was she unconscious as if she had lost a lot of blood?

She couldn't possibly be tired and just wanted to take a nap, could she?

Whose blood was on her? If it wasn't hers, could it be animal blood? Was she kidding me? How could I believe she was doused in fake human blood when she carried a real gun?

I had to revise my opinion: initially, I thought a crime had occurred here and she was the victim, but the truth might be the opposite of my preconceived notion.

I must call the police.

Even if I assume she is innocent, guns should not be in the hands of civilians. This is the most ethical and conscientious course of action.

However, with this enigmatic girl, I couldn't help but notice a seductive radiance, a completely unpredictable and incredible dramatic potential that surpassed my experience and life.

A mysterious, blood-stained beautiful girl collapsed in the ruins—in my life so far, I had never encountered a more surreal encounter.

At this moment, my morbid curiosity overcame my moral compass.

I decided to take her back with me.

No sooner said than done.

Having made up my mind, I immediately took off my jacket, wrapped her in the oversized garment, and then picked her up in my arms.

I'm not very popular with the opposite sex usually, and I lack immunity to them. Holding this girl's soft body, I couldn't help but let my imagination run wild. In reality, under normal circumstances, mere physical contact with a woman wouldn't lead me to such thoughts. But to me at this moment, this strange beautiful girl possessed a fatal, poisonous charm.

She was so mysterious, dangerous, and held the potential to shatter my life up to this point.

Was it really necessary to take her back? Even if I complied with her request and didn't call the police, I could have just left her here. But I was really curious, extremely curious—why was she dressed so scantily, covered in blood, and why was she illegally carrying a firearm? What incredible story was hidden within? I had to find out.

I carried her away from the abandoned construction site.

My rented room off-campus and this abandoned construction site had one thing in common: they were both near Xian Shui University, where I study. The distance to my place wasn't far.

The problem was, although the first half of the journey could be made through small paths to avoid prying eyes, the entire route couldn't avoid being seen by passersby or captured by surveillance cameras. Moreover, the security guard would see me when I entered the complex, and I might be stopped and questioned.

So, halfway there, I first hid the girl in the nearby bushes and then rode back to the rental apartment alone at top speed. I took out the large suitcase I used when moving luggage before, and then returned to the original spot without stopping.

On the way back, I was incredibly worried, terrified that the girl might have woken up and left on her own while I was gone, or that I was just extremely unlucky and she had already been accidentally discovered by passersby in such a short time.

Fortunately, my luck wasn't that bad.

I picked the girl up from the bushes. She was petite, and it wasn't difficult to curl her limbs and place her inside the large suitcase. I had initially worried that this