Ed had never met Susan before and didn't know what she looked like. In retrospect, he felt that it had been a rather stupid mistake, that he didn't even know what the person he was looking for looked like, and that wasn't something that could be easily dismissed under the pretext of not having time. He should have asked Marcy for a picture when he was drinking with Marcy from the corner bar on his Silklander Avenue.

But there seems to be something wrong. When we first met, Marcy showed him a bunch of photos, but it didn't seem that there was a little girl in it, and if there were, Marcy's meticulous nature would definitely take the initiative to show him an introduction, even if he forgot to look for this girl. Unless the city bureau doesn't have a photo of Susan at all, or the data on Susan's photo in their database hasn't been updated for a long, long time. After all, a fifteen-year-old girl has not even reached the age of applying for an identification ID card, and if social life is very rare due to family reasons, then the city bureau really has no way to get her latest official information photo.

Ed's introspection lasted only a moment. He has always been a very self-loving man, and he has a unique way of coping with things that will have a negative impact on him in all aspects. Among them, "where you fall, lie on your stomach" is one of the most common rules he pursues - if you can't reverse time, never dwell too much on the past, sum up experience, learn lessons, and then let go, continue to move forward, facing the future, this is the only eternal royal road.

Of course, this is just a set of feasible solutions that Ed has summed up based on his own experience and can choose when facing problems, while others are likely to have a completely different set of gameplay genres because they have other different experiences. It is precisely because everyone follows different rules that everyone's life is unique.

Perhaps in the eyes of some of them, Ed and Eddard's code of conduct were as cute and funny as the little teddy dog in the roadside, with its sharp little fangs tickling to watch.

Susan is a big girl. By the standards of a fifteen-year-old girl, she looks like she has reached the state of an adult, at least physically. It's no joke that girls are more precocious than boys, she's only half a head shorter than Ed, her dark brown hair is tied into a long ponytail, her tight black shirt outlines her perfect, seductive curves, and her brown skin and a little freckles add a different kind of youthful and sexy charm.

In addition to his awkward and obnoxious personality, some of Ed's interests are still very normal. He loved money, he liked guns, he liked to drink — but never too much because of his constitution — and he liked to read, to be able to sit and think alone, to have a nap where no one would disturb him. Of course, he also likes women, and a few other things related to women. But this doesn't include any Lori girls.

That's the problem. It stands to reason that Ed wouldn't be interested in underage girls, even if Marcy or Shiro were more attractive to him. Although the former is flat, the character Ed still likes it very much, at least after getting used to it, it is not as unbearable as before. And the latter, although some scary, some are not human, but the "big" can solve all problems.

It stands to reason that it is. It stands to reason that Susan would not have made Ed interested, but the peculiar girl in front of her did make Ed drool a little. Especially now that the other party is pointing a gun, the excitement is even more explosive.

The girl must have never played with a gun before, and this dangerous toy was a little too advanced for her. Her hand holding the gun trembled a little, and the muzzle of the gun was not very steady, and it kept shaking and drifting slightly up and down, left and right. Her face was the kind of girl she would look like when she was frightened, and she was a little calm in her panic, and her rare cornflower blue eyes were about to fall out of their sockets, staring at Ed.

"Who are you?!" She almost clenched her teeth so that no one could hear the tremor in her tone, "How did you get in!" ”

"What do you think, clever girl?" Ed raised his hands on either side of his head, shrugged, and tilted his head out the window, "The air duct outside the building is forty-five meters. ”

"What? Are you ......" The girl listened to Ed's words and turned her head to look out the window with an incredulous gaze.

Originally, Eddard thought that Shilo's hideout, if not a secret special facility like an intelligence safe house, should be a basement where no light could shine through. But it's actually on the bright side of the city center, in a modest apartment building very close to the city, in the corner of Sita Park in the Lesser Tarcinia district, very close to the city. Even the rooms here are very well decorated, and in addition to some furniture, there is a huge fish tank in the living room, in which some colorful tropical fish swim back and forth. Ed wondered why there were still live domestic fish in a place that had not been inhabited for a long time, until he looked at it a few more times and realized that they were just mechanical dolls and other things, slightly more advanced decorations.

This made Ed a little disappointed. Originally, he had in his mind the scene of the fish being poured with soup and served on a plate.

No kidding at all. For Ed, perhaps the biggest challenge he'd just experienced was the cheap restaurant downstairs that looked like a factory branch that processed tires into sandwiches. He saw the place, but he couldn't stop as he passed it, and he had to play extreme sports like a freshly doped racehorse, climbing the duct empty-handed. It's torture.

Ed swears that if he starves him a little longer, he'll eat all the real tires. With tomato sauce.

Of course, now is not a good time to think about these things. Ed has always seen very clearly, knowing what is more important, knowing what should be considered first, and what should be solved quickly. He rushed to Susan's side as he distracted him and his eyes looked out the window, grabbed the barrel of her pistol with one hand, and pushed it upward.

Susan was frightened, screaming and subconsciously pulling the trigger with her fingers, but nothing happened.

Ed wasn't surprised at all. He looked at Susan face to face up close, like a hesitant gambler who had just lost the last piece of steel in his wallet at a nightclub, and raised his left eyebrow teasingly.

"If the next time you're going to threaten someone with a gun," he said, gently but firmly unloading the gun from Susan's hand, taking it in his hand for a moment, fiddling with it, then looking up at Susan and holding it up to her, "Remember to open the safety first." ”

“……”

Susan looked at Ed in silence, watched him hold his gun, watched him open the safety on it, unloaded the magazine, reloaded it, and then loaded, casually and skillfully made an aiming motion in the direction of the window, and finally nodded, and looked up at her again. He threw the gun back to her.

Subconsciously catching the pistol that Ed threw over, Susan looked at him blankly, a little overwhelmed for a while.

"Who the hell are you?" She asked, but there was not much tension in her voice. She knew Ed hadn't come to hurt her at least.

"The one who came to save your life." Ed said, striding forward as he spoke, grabbing Susan's wrist. Susan didn't struggle, but her body suddenly tensed, and she looked up at the man in front of her, her lips tightly closed.

"Calm down." Ed bowed his head, his voice soft.

"I'm calm." Susan's heart was beating hard, but at least the tone of her voice sounded like that. Perhaps because of the influence of tithes, this fifteen-year-old girl has a little similar shadow on her.

Ed nodded. Susan's performance was a blessing in disguise for him, for the current fateful situation.

……

After a long period of no answer, the doorbell rang again. Then, still, silence enveloped the entire world, slowly dragging the twilight tombstones at the end of the sky into the bottomless abyss.

The next voice was not so polite. If a bull in heat dragged twenty bicycles on the beach and stepped on the crocodile's head to play extreme surfing, the violent "bang" lasted only two rounds, and the solid door was forcibly broken open from the outside in. It did its part, and it went above and beyond. Together, it held off the rude group of uninvited guests for more than ten seconds. Of course, it paid a price, and any skilled surgeon would have kicked the bed to Salmuci in Europa without mercy after seeing its now twisted waist and crucial metal pendant. It was a super cold place and you didn't need a fridge to keep it fresh.

There are five of them, each of them is dressed in a formal uniform of unknown company, two buttons, white shirts, and gray ties, and they are the kind of characters who are not ordinary or conspicuous when walking on the street. Four of them burst in after the door was broken, and quickly searched the house in silence and with a clear division of labor. The last, thin-faced young man with straw-dyed blond hair walked unhurriedly through the hallway after the four of them, and followed him into the living room, his hands in his trouser pockets, and his half-closed eyes glancing at the room seemingly carelessly.

Nothing. The four buttonmen who had come in first had come back to report to their dear chief that they had found nothing, that they had found nothing. There are no people in this place.

The chief lowered his head and glanced at the four people in front of him from an angle with many whites of his eyes and few pupils. He didn't say anything for a moment, just took a deep breath and tilted his head to look away. Then he personally searched room by room.

Four buttoned figures stood next to the entrance of the living room, standing quietly waiting, their faces looking like four sculptures. Their chief had been searching for much longer than they were, partly because he was alone, and secondly because he had probably searched more carefully than they did. Probably, not a guarantee.

Regardless, he came back, just like them, empty-handed.

"Did you run away?" The straw-blonde young man smacked his lips and smiled helplessly, "It's really not that simple...... Let's go. ”

He said, passing through the middle of the four, and walked out of the room with a little shaky. Four followed.