Hoffa felt like he was dying.

Not only the scorching sun brought to him during the day, but also some subtle and irreversible changes in his body.

On a sunny day in London in 1994, he could see that the surface of his skin was producing tiny lenses. Little by little, the lenses were growing and spreading, and it didn't take long for the knuckles of his right finger to become transparent.

Sister Chloe had told him that besides her. From the moment of birth, everyone's position in time and space is determined, and if they move without authorization, they will produce time flares, and the longer they exist in another dimension, the more fragile the logical chain that maintains their existence becomes.

The last time, just two or three days ago, he almost died under the fall of the time flare, and the feeling of powerlessness in the face of the laws of time is still fresh today.

And this time, fifty years later.

When the time flare sounded again, Chloe was gone, alone in a completely unfamiliar land, and he couldn't think of any way to keep himself alive.

Go back fifty years ago?go to Dumbledore?Even Dumbledore couldn't get him to go back fifty years, and even if he wanted to, he wouldn't be able to build another arrow of time in just two days.

What can be done? If there are only two days left to live.

Five years ago, if you had asked him what he would do in the Harry Potter world, he would probably have said in high spirits, "Bubble Hermione, fight Voldemort or something."

But now, looking at the poster of "This Killer Is Not Too Cold" in front of him, he just wants to order a cup of popcorn, an iced Coke, and a hamburger, and sit in the cinema in the most comfortable position, quietly waiting for death to come.

There is no one of the most negative traversers in history.

Thinking so, Hoffa actually laughed at himself, this is probably some kind of emotional compensation mechanism, the brain is subconsciously preventing people from collapsing because they are too desperate.

So do it.

He stood up in a daze, ignoring the strange eyes of others, and walked towards the movie theater in the distance.

But when he walked slowly to the door of the movie theater, he found another problem that was not a problem.

He has no money.

His clothes had been changed at Miranda's house fifty years earlier, and had become tattered from the battle, and even if he had a few dollars in his pocket, they would have burned out.

Admittedly, he could use magic to cheat some money or conjure up some counterfeit money or something.

But that makes no sense.

Before you die, you have to hurt people, and you have to do it because you are bored.

He looked at the delicate old necklace in his hand, the only thing he had, and looked at a nearby McDonald's shop, thinking that he might be able to trade it for an iced Coke.

So he walked into the store, but as soon as he entered, he was pushed out by a fat female clerk with a pockmarked face with her nostrils facing the sky, and she pointed to the long queue in front of the counter: "Don't you see that you are busy, go and go, I don't have time to entertain the homeless." ”

Hoffa, who was pushed out of the glass door, was not angry at all, he turned around and asked, "You guys..... Did you win World War II?"

I was stunned for a second.

"Neurotic. ”

The fat woman waved the rag that wiped the table, and the lettuce leaves splashed on Hoffa's face, and said slowly and bitterly: "If you have a question, go to the teacher, see that you are a little gangster who dropped out of high school and had nothing to do." ”

.....

Outside the McDonald's restaurant, Hoffa sat on a red fire hydrant on the street in the afternoon, holding his necklace, aimlessly watching the passing cars. At this moment, the time flare on the back of his hand had expanded to his forearm, his thumb to his elbow joint, and most of it was transparent.

He has long been accustomed to the devastation of World War II, but he is extremely unfamiliar with this living world that should be familiar.

Britain is still Britain, there are no fewer movies that should be made, electrical appliances that should be invented are the same, and what should have happened is still happening.

Germany did not win, even though it was going to hang up in two days. Grindelwald's failure to achieve his goal of making the world feel pain shows that his existence is insignificant, and it is the same with him or not.

"It's ironic. ”

He said lightly, "It turns out that I am nothing." ”

Swish!!

As soon as the words fell, there was a rush of tires scraping against the ground. A riotous yellow Lamborghini Diablo pulled up in front of the McDonald's store.

It has boxy eyes, a huge air intake grille, a long tail fin, and a popping exhaust sound from its butt that drips water.

Pedestrians turned their heads in the direction from which the sound came, drivers stared at the wide monster with wide eyes and envious expressions, and children jumped up and down, exchanging their heads in excitement, and the sound under the hood interrupted the voices of others on the street.

Although he was on the verge of death at the moment, and although Hoffa had just come to this era from fifty years ago, he still dug out some information about the car from his dusty memory. Diablo, 1991 production... One of the top luxury cars of the nineties.

Bang.

The door opened upwards, and a hoarse but pleasant man's voice came from inside the car: "Honey, you can get down here." ”

"Hey, what about the one who said you were going to shop on Oxford Street?"

The woman said dissatisfiedly.

"Oops, it's a coincidence today, I have to pick up a friend. ”

"You can't say it in advance, where am I going now?"

"Go shopping, go shopping, drink coffee, whatever you want. ”

The hoarse man's voice became a little perfunctory.

"I don't. ”

The woman said forcefully.

"Take it, the password is your birthday. ”

The man said casually, shoving something into her hand.

"Do you remember my birthday!?"

The woman said in surprise.

"Uh...... Probably ......"

"Hmph, I hate it, I like your attitude of ignoring me, Trojan!"

Accompanied by a hot kiss that passers-by envy, followed by a hot fragrant wind. A pair of long legs stepped out of the luxury car and flashed past Hoffa.

It was a strange woman wearing sunglasses, carrying a brand-name bag, looking around with an arrogant face, and four big characters were almost written on her bejeweled face, I am a supermodel.

This kind of picture was not surprising in later generations of London. After the end of the war, the economy is developing rapidly, and rich people are everywhere, just like in Shanghai or Beijing in the 21st century, when I see this kind of picture, I probably curse in my heart, damn it, or if you have money can really do whatever you want, and then turn around and leave unwillingly, blaming God for not giving yourself a good baby.

Hoffa hung his head, didn't care about a sports car or a model, he didn't care about anything because he was going to die.

But the sports car didn't leave, but kept stopping in front of him and farting.

The owner of the sports car turned to the side and shouted to the gray-haired boy sitting on the fire hydrant outside the door, "Hey, you can't get in?"

His arm suddenly stabbed, and Hoffa's brow furrowed.

The guy driving the sports car saw that he didn't react, so he honked his horn, and the yellow Lamborghini Diablo let out a loud scream.

Hoffa slowly raised his head and saw that in the open gullwing door, an old man wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap was staring at him, he was wearing a simple white T and blue denim, and happily honked his horn: "Young man, don't be so negative, come in and sit." ”

Hoffa glanced around, and the Lamborghini let out an unpleasant fart sound again, poof.

The old man was helpless: "Look at whom, I'll talk to you." ”

Passers-by stopped and looked surprised.

They couldn't associate this guy who was just sitting on a manhole cover begging, a tattered manhole, with a gray chicken coop and a messy and dusty face, with the shiny luxury car in front of them.

The female employee who was wiping the table at the burger restaurant saw the scene outside the glass, and her jaw didn't drop off the ground. I don't understand why the owner of that rare luxury car wants a homeless man to sit in.

Even the tall model, who had been walking a few steps away, pulled down her glasses in surprise, and her mouth with expensive lipstick turned into an O-shape.

Hoffa still didn't respond.

The old man in the car was a little helpless, he got out from the other side, and saw that under his vest was a healthy complexion that had been tanned, tall and powerful.

Then, he stepped forward in three steps and two steps, grabbed Hoffa's arm, and dragged him into the car without saying a word.

Lamborghini and its humble interior chrome Hoffa let out a muffled snort, and the thick smell of perfume in the carriage made people feel tight, and before he could react to what was going on, severe pain surged over his body again.

There was a subtle click, and he could feel his chest crystallize rapidly. His existence is becoming more and more illogical, and his body is rapidly disintegrating under the power of the arrow of time.

Bang!

The doors of the Lamborghini are closed.

The vehicle roared through the streets of London and flew out.

Acceleration pressed Hoffa to the back of the seat, he turned his head to look at the old man in the driver's seat next to him, the old man wearing a baseball cap and a white T, and said in a hoarse voice, "What are you going to do?"

"You don't ask who I am?"

The old man held the steering wheel and asked with a smile.

"Who you are has nothing to do with me. ”

Hoffa said slowly, looking at his arm.

Through the glass through the car window, his right side had almost disappeared in the sunlight, as if it was made of glass, and only some faint blood vessels and bone veins could be seen inside.

"Yes, I was a little bit proud of my youth. ”

The old man smiled and nodded, very pleasant.

"Don't be ashamed. ”

Hoffa sneered weakly, he didn't think that an old man who drove a sports car could be compared to himself.

His pride and experience don't allow anyone to feel like him, it's just that he can't resist now. I don't want to refute either. A duckweed that goes with the flow.

The time flare was eating away at his body, and he had entered the countdown to his life.

Squeak.

When passing the traffic light, Lamborghini stopped, and the old man smiled and pulled down his baseball cap and sunglasses, revealing short gray hair and a pair of faint golden eyes.

He looked at Hoffa on the steering wheel and said in Chinese: "Am I really ashamed?"