"Imagine a bunch of people frantically flicking glowsticks in the vestibule of Nok India, screaming 'Call!!' while pounding the elm floor!' , isn't it super powerful. ”

"It's so cool."

——————————————

At that time, frost.

"Tell me a joke," Kevlar cocked up a whitish knuckle. "I've decided what to eat tonight."

The entire laboratory erupted in a wail.

"No way!" Farman Goin roared, "You're going to kill us all!" ”

"Secret Technique: Mimic Chef." Cave pulled open Chrysostom.

Everyone was very cooperative in clutching their hearts in pain.

"How about pan-fried cheese with durian steak?" He pondered.

"Or maybe it's the same silicon-based dish from yesterday," Farman propped his forehead, "and the loud cream at least gave me the motivation to eat." ”

"Won't you get tired?" Kevlar laughed maniacally, "I remember someone was telling me a recipe three days ago." ”

"No, no," the audience waved. "Good taste!"

"Well," Kevlar rubbed his eyes, "I'll surprise you." ”

"Can you care about our fragile hearts?" "The clerk hasn't arrived yet, but I promise you'll be able to leave this week." ”

"I'm not leaving!!" Tears glistened in Kevlar's eyes. "How am I going to live without you?!"

"Mourning," Faman's "Roll Away" has broken through the tonsils, "You have to know that the world is not only in front of you, but also in poetry and distance." ”

"Wait? Good chickens are familiar. Kevlar looked up, there was not a single tear on his face, and Farman secretly screamed shit, "Who said that?" ”

"Marco Polo." Faman thought for a second, then changed his words without any flaws. "I can't remember who I loved. Oh, yes, you're going to 'Secret Technique Mimicry Chef', right? No send, no send. ”

Kevlar walked away with a puzzled expression.

Only Farman Goin and his soul remained.

"Field: All to Dust" section - Qingliu is in the middle of the hand, please wait a moment,

Once the content is updated, please refresh the page again to get the latest updates!