Then, naturally, the hero and the beauty he saved are stuck together, and they scramble to take off each other's clothes, kiss, touch, knead and pinch, roll around on the carpet, and/have sex to their heart's content, crazy, hysterically, yes, at the end of every movie, and every time there is a different woman, half-blood, purebred, Western, Eastern...... He did the same, one prettier than the other, one younger than the other, and one debauched more than the other.

He was excited now, he was a brave and fearless warrior, just now, he had killed a wicked man, a wicked criminal, a devil who deserved to be in hell for a hundred and eighty years, a stream of heat rushed up from his fingers that pulled the trigger, down his arm all the way to his heart and brain, he could hear the veins in his ears jumping, he closed his eyes, hoping that the heat would sink so that his other important part would be stirred up—but today I don't know why, his underneath was always soft, He tried to rub against the woman's breasts, legs, and face, but always in vain.

"Well," he said, getting up and panting, "we need a little spice." ”

He got up, grabbed the key around his neck, and pulled out a packet of about a quarter gram of cocaine from a locked cabinet, "pure, ninety-nine percent." He poured it into a silver spoon and lit it, and the blue smoke floated up, and he immediately leaned in and sucked them deep into his nostrils, and the woman wanted it too, and he pushed it away.

The woman fell to the ground in anger, knowing that she would not get any good, and she did not get up anymore. The black man's smashed head was only a few inches from her fingernailed hand, and the blood and brains were stained all over the back of her hand, and there was a little warmth, and the woman saw and felt it all indifferently—the first time she was almost mad with fear, but she was unharmed. When the cocaine grind wore off, her employer would revert back to the polite, chubby old man, who would get a thousand dollars at a time, and sometimes a small gift, a gold ring or a few lipsticks, and she quickly got used to it, and the torment of watching others die was far less than the pain and addiction she had when she first became a prostitute—besides, she laughed silly, and the one who was beaten to death was a bad person. Criminals, such people will always die, either with a shot through the heart or falling off a cliff. Either that, or get bitten off by a monster.

Maybe that guy is indeed innocent, but that only proves that he is an unlucky ghost, and unlucky ghosts will die early, and she has nothing to feel guilty about.

But she was unhappy that she hadn't been able to steal any extra benefits from her employer, so when she was crushed again. She didn't react at all like the corpse next to her.

Her employer didn't seem to care, he snorted like a pig, like a cry, his hand grabbed her shoulder, he grabbed it too tightly. Fingers stabbed into her flesh, and she screamed and kicked him—her resistance didn't work as it should. Instead, it provokes the ferocity caused by cocaine.

The man had long since pulled off the hat with pointed ears sewn on black silk, his sparse yellow hair was scattered in front of his forehead, sweat and tears blurred his eyes, and hallucinations dominated his mind and limbs, in the hazy spiritual world. He became the lone hero he had always aspired to be as a child, strong, intelligent, quick-witted, and talented. Adored by countless people, he jumped from tall building to skyscraper, the wind whistling in his ears, and the dark night sky and bright white moon in the background. One by one, his enemies, the enemies of the country, and the human race, but they were simply vulnerable before him, and he swung his fist and beat them to the ground—he could hear their wails, he could smell their blood, he was proud and contented, but he didn't let his guard down, his worst enemy hadn't yet appeared, he knew.

He had seen the man in an old newspaper, and he knew at a glance that this guy must be his lifelong enemy, a well-mannered beast with wisdom and strength, who planned crimes full of drama, who spoke and behaved, even if it was murder, who made the police panic, who was crazy about the journalists, who had admirers all over the Western Continent, who had created a website for him, whose homepage picture was the famous Six Fingers.

He immediately offered a personal bounty of five million, which increased by 500,000 every year. In the reward, it is indicated: Alive, spiritually and ** intact is the best. If the body is missing a part of the bounty, the mental aspect is ...... He was saying that being insane or in a vegetative state was worthless. He longed to torture and kill the guy with his own hands.

In his fantasy he was in a scuffle with the most dangerous criminal, and it was very difficult, and he faced several times with his life in danger, but he finally became the victor, riding on the body of his prey, and breaking "it" neck with both hands. The sound of the broken neck bone was so crisp, and for a moment, he was awake, and he immediately lowered his head, and the reality was very frustrating to him, he had killed not a "ghoul", but a prostitute he had hired to be a "victim".

"It's frustrating." He muttered, his mind was really calm, and in a little while, the man in charge of the deal would send someone to finish it, and the's corpse would be dug up with bullets and made to look like his mother didn't recognize it—they would find a suitable explanation for it, and there would always be accidents in prison. He could have paid an extra sum for them to take the woman, and there was a lot of uninhabited forest nearby, and he could throw it in, and the hungry wolves and bears would be able to solve this little trouble in a day or two.

He might also be able to take the opportunity to ask the person who came to "pick up the goods" if the bounty had been settled?

There was something slimy left on his face, he reached out and touched it, it was red, the bitch scratched his face, the cocaine paralyzed his body, he didn't feel it, he wiped the wound again, the strange touch made him shiver in disgust - what was that guy's name? He only remembered "Ghoul", the nickname given to him by the reporters and agents of the Federal Bureau, which was pretty cool, wasn't it?

What's the name? He really doesn't remember.

"Hopkins," a pleasant voice replied to the question: "Anthony. Hopkins. ”

He sat up dizzily and stared blankly at the man sitting in the high-backed chair.

The man was thin, his knees were over the legs of his chair, so he shrugged slightly, leaned forward slightly, and hung from the center of his knees with his knuckles crossed. He has gray eyes. The almost white hair is combed back with hair oil, shiny, and the expression on the face is indescribable, and one can find both compassion and cruelty in it.

"Hello," said the uninvited guest, "my bounty." ”

***

Sprinkle the second serving sauce prepared with chicken bones, mushrooms and black pepper. Anyway, this time it was he who invited Beelzebub and Avery to it, and the taste of the dishes could not be as good as the previous times—Sasha would sometimes make a harmless joke or two. But they don't tease their guests at the table.

Beelzebub tasted both portions and seemed to think both were good, so he placed two portions of spices in front of him.

The appetite of a growing boy is always immeasurable. They ate up the two-pound speck, the breast of a whole duck, a pound or so of salty bread to accompany the meal, and a quart of rum raisin ice cream—per person.

Hopkins was in charge of cooking. Beelzebub was in charge of putting away the dishes, and Avery had to go and tidy up the room, and when they came back, they had already showered, and the dirty clothes were thrown in the light basket of clothes, and Avery carried them down and handed them to the caretaker of the laundry. The rules of the Grande boarding school are very lenient in this regard. Students can wash it themselves, just pay a few coins, or give it to the laundry caretaker. The fee is slightly higher, and if you need to iron it — like Hopkins's shirt and trousers, you have to add a tip.

"This brand of shirt costs 200 yuan a piece." The administrator said, and couldn't help but whistle: "If the iron is broken, I hope he won't claim compensation from me, otherwise I will be in vain for the past few days." ”

"How do you know it's two hundred dollars a piece?" Avery asked. There is no tag on the shirt.

"I've seen good things, too," the administrator tugged at the sleeve of his shirt, "thick silk and pure linen." Each one has an arm buckle, and if it's less than one hundred and eighty I'll swallow it. ”

Avery didn't speak, and someone who could pay tens of thousands of dollars to stay here for a year certainly wouldn't make a fuss about a two-hundred-dollar shirt — he remembered that Beelzebub and Sasha had at least two dozen of them in their closets.

Among the people he knows, there is never a shortage of profligate fools, but he always feels that these two people are different, but he can't tell where the difference is.

Avery returned to their little suite, and neither Sasha nor Beelzebub had returned to their respective bedrooms, and Beelzebub was preoccupied with beating a sandbag.

It was a very regular silicone sandbag, red, with a fixed base, standing straight in the corner of the small hall. Beelzebub, with his special thin gloves, took a step back in a dance, then leaped lightly, about a quarter of a foot high, and threw his left fist into the bag, which made a dull fluff like the body of a man whose limbs and head had been cut off, and fell backwards in a resolute gesture, the squeak of the connecting parts was harsh and unpleasant, and Avery thought it would break—no, it bounced back to meet Beelzebub's right fist.

Hopkins's attention is focused on the game, the flat self-illuminating soft display occupies half of the wall, and the shooting is shot from all sides of the screen with a frisbee, so fast that it is almost impossible to catch with the naked eye - Sasha holds the gun, of course, it is only a simulated gun for the game, but it has the same touch and weight as the real gun, the chamber will quickly slide backwards when the trigger is pulled, and after stopping, the return spring will quickly reset the chamber to produce recoil, and the gun body also comes with a laser sighting device that can be removed.

Sasha didn't use a laser device, he shot while standing, and the frisbee exploded on the screen, leaving nothing missing.

"It's a shame," said Avery admiringly, "that you shouldn't be on a football team or a swimming club – Grande also has a boxing team and a shooting club." "They are much more talented in both areas than rugby and swimming.

Beelzebub grinned, "That's not going to work," he said, "that's so unfair." ”

He walked over, took off his gloves, and picked up another game gun, and the speed at which the frisbee disappeared suddenly doubled, and after a few seconds, no more frisbees were fired, and a red glowing "in" was played on the screen.

"We are professionals." He said.

(To be continued)

PS: Hmm...... In this way, some adults say that the last few chapters seem to feel a little strange, one thing is halfway through and then turns to another thing, like listening to the song and hearing half of the song is connected to another song, but after a while it turns back - this, please forgive me, readers, because my two protagonists in this volume are not as inseparable as the previous volumes, they are separated, and not short-term, they each have their own things, and these things are inextricably linked with the development of the future, and they cannot but be explained, so ...... It can only be written as a double branch line - it's not impossible to explain only one line in a few chapters, but I always feel that it will form a fault.

Anyway, I'll add more to this volume every day.,When the story develops to a certain extent.,Adults will be able to read it more clearly.。

The next volume of Hopkins and sons will be together again, please don't worry, I will arrange a romantic and warm reunion scene!!!

Thank you for the pink ticket from the blood-red fork and the koto heart dance! Take a bow!