"Whew."

After taking a bite of noodles, the black Tibetans were sure of one thing.

"It's okay, it's okay, I thought it was the cup noodles that went bad, but it turned out that my nose was broken."

After taking two of three bites, the cup noodles were all solved, and the black Tibetan nodded strangely.

It's not that the nose is wrong, but the taste of the cup noodles on the taste cells on the tip of the tongue has become unusual.

Although it is generally the taste of the cup noodles themselves, it is like the difference between beef that has been frozen for a year and fresh beef that has been eaten by a cow, and the freshness and deliciousness have risen by more than one notch.

He took out another flavor of cup noodles and wiped them clean, and the Tibetan became more and more sure of his judgment.

The taste has indeed become delicious, and it is by no means that the manufacturer has improved the process, and the taste of cup noodles that I ate a few days ago is definitely different from what I eat now.

They are all purchased from the same batch, and there is no such obvious difference in quality.

The Tibetans had the intention to continue the controlled experiments, but the abnormal behavior under surveillance was obviously a death-seeking behavior.

Just because he occasionally acts like crazy doesn't mean that he really has a problem with his IQ.

Beneath the exterior of madness is a meticulous heart, as meticulous as it is in anatomy.

Maguro poured himself another glass of water, and the taste of the water did not change, but when the coffee was brewed, the taste of the coffee improved significantly, like the work of a master in a well-known coffee shop.

The taste is smooth and the aroma is mellow.

This delicious pour-over coffee can't be brewed for another ten years.

Picking up the pen and tapping on the tabletop, the black Tibetan fell into deep thought.

The taste of the brewed cup noodles has improved, the faucet water has not changed, and the taste of the pour-over coffee has improved......

In other words, as long as the ingredients are touched by the action related to their own cooking, the taste will change?

"Goldfinger?"

Raising his fingers and curling up and stretching out many times, the black Tibetan nodded very seriously.

This ability is a bit too unreasonable, and why did it change because of the weird girl you met?

But not only did he not go to hell as the girl said, but he got special abilities.

If you really use this skill well, you can open a restaurant by yourself, and the name is 'The Taste of Forensic Doctors', which is authentic, rated Michelin, and reached the pinnacle of life.

But is it really that simple?

Sitting cross-legged on the bed, the black Tibetan felt that he had entered a misunderstanding, this ability to make food delicious and delicious, at first glance, it seemed to be an enterprise-level auxiliary superpower that could reach the pinnacle of life, but there must be other traps hidden on the back.

For example, how do you cook your food, and when you die and go to hell, how will the demons also cook you.

Remove the pan from the pan and sprinkle the seasoning repeatedly.

Thinking about this, the black Tibetan gave him a slap on the right hand with his left hand.

"I won't be cooking for myself anymore."

The sensitivity of the Tibetan people in the black made Mizuno can't help but look high, he had already discovered this strange doctor, and he had direct or indirect contact with several downlines many times, and directly hit the scene.

If there really is any monster-sucking physique, this forensic doctor in Miyagi Prefecture is the first person who deserves to be.

Cooking ninjutsu is a useless skill, and it is placed on the Kurozo just to insert his gaze in the base, but to be able to find the changes in his body so quickly, the sensitivity of this doctor is also quite good.

Putting aside the suspicious and suspicious Kuro Tibeto, Mizuno controls the clone to wander the streets of Adachi, and his target is the sand gourd in the treasure hall.

Tokyo, Adachi-ku, Senju, Akamon-ji.

Monk Miaozheng, who was patrolling the cemetery, yawned boredly, there has been too little exercise recently, and the monk's brain is getting brighter and brighter.

When passing by the tombstone of Kazuo Matsunaka, the monk Miaozheng respectfully carried a wooden spoon and scrubbed it with water, muttering in his heart that this person should never come back.

A few months ago, Akamonji Temple suffered an unwarranted disaster, and the spirit of the dead policeman Kazuo Matsunaka returned on the first seven nights, causing Monk Myomasa to be arrested by the police for questioning, and there was no supernatural hall at that time.

It's all tears when I say it - the little monk who said that he was a high-ranking monk has been expelled by Miaozheng.

It's really a stupid hat with no eyesight, and it's just a matter of deceiving ordinary customers as a monk, how can you talk nonsense in front of the police.

"Officer Songzhong, it's easy to walk all the way, but I wash your tombstone once a week, don't go home again."

This business handed down by the ancestors is not easy, hundreds of years ago it was okay, and you could get money by chanting the scriptures.

But now there are ghosts coming home to visit the door, and I have to be on guard against him, he is just an ordinary businessman, and he has no virtue and no ability to deal with ghost things.

Under the summer sun, Miao Zheng suddenly felt a gust of cloudy wind, and goosebumps couldn't help but rise.

"Demons, monsters, get out of here."

Thinking about these strange supernatural things in his heart, his nerves couldn't help but become extremely sensitive.

Flicking the wooden spoon, Miao Zheng said a spell that did not fit the dignity of a monk at all.

As if poked by a spell, Miaozheng's gaze froze instantly, and his eyes looked straight at the back door at the corner of his vision.

"Demon and Monster ......" stared blankly in the direction of the back door of Chimen Temple, Miaozheng's words were blocked in his throat, and he couldn't say anything, "Please come in......"

The crimson door was pushed open from the outside in, and a muscular and majestic man stood in front of it, flanked by his subordinates.

With a middle-aged and resolute appearance, Ken Takakura seems to be a weakened version of him.

has a strong beard, a straight nose bridge, bright eyes, and strong black hair, which does not conform to the law of the high probability of middle-aged men in island countries.

Miao Zheng didn't know if he had a top gene, he had just graduated from college and became a monk, and the family elders in his memory were also shiny bald.

And the other party is definitely not an islander.

Which island people would wear the costume of a judge in Chinese mythology?

How to tell if the other party is a judge.

The impermanence of black and white that follows around you couldn't be more clear!

The white top hat says that you will make money at first sight, and the black top hat says that the world is peaceful.

The monk Miaozheng still has a little attainment in Sinology, he knows a lot of Chinese characters, and he also knows that the title impermanence is derived from Buddhist terms, but he sees black and white impermanence in broad daylight......

"Poof."

Miao Zheng shook the wooden spoon in his hand and knelt to the ground cleanly.

Fortunately, it is black and white, not bull-headed and horse-faced!

The one standing in front of him should be the judge!

And with a pen in one hand and a book in the other, which judge is it?

Anyway, the representative of the underworld in Chinese mythology has come to a Buddhist temple in the island country!

"Don't panic." The majestic judge waved his hand at Monk Miaozheng, but it was surprising not to panic when he saw the hell in the daytime.

"I, I, I, I." Miao Zheng wanted to call the little monks in the temple loudly, although the cemetery was on the mountain behind the temple, as long as he shouted loudly, others would be able to hear it.