Chapter Ninety-Six: God, I'm Peter Davis!
"How dare you ......?"
Peter Davis trembled and stretched out his finger and pointed it at the ugly Dian!
"How dare you ......!"
……
This ugly Indian, with a dagger still dripping with blood, slashed oranges!
The green orange peel was yellow in a circle under his knife, and when it finally fell off the orange, it could still be put together intact.
Falling on top of a headless corpse on the ground, it became the new "head" of this corpse!
"Your butler Charles is so incompetent, so I took care of him for you!" The ugly Indian said.
"Even if he is incompetent, he is still a man!" Peter Davis was furious, like a fried pigeon.
"So I dealt with him for you - eat oranges?"
Peter Davis bit his thin lip, but his lips were already bright red, but he couldn't tell if he had bitten them or not.
"What the hell do you want? Peter Davis asked.
"Wait!"
"Wait? How long to wait? ”
"Wait until you change your mind!"
"I've promised you! I will summon the turtledove, and in three days, on my manor, I will summon him! What more do you want? "Gotta Davis screamed)
- Know that his kingdom has never been set foot by outsiders with permission.
- Even if Lai Ang wants to see him, it depends on whether he has the time to arrange, and he always refuses two of the three requests to see him.
- This is the rightful power of a king, and he does it well.
And, in three days' time, the Indian named Turtledove should all go to hell along with the ugly Indian in front of him and the filthy group of Indians behind him!
The ugly Indian began to eat oranges on his own. He tore open the white and clean peel of the orange with his dirty hand, which was as rough as granite and had a little finger severed, and shoved the delicate golden flesh into his horrible bloody mouth.
Oh my God, the Indians actually eat oranges too? Peter Davis was stunned!
The ugly Indian swallowed the remaining orange in one gulp, rolled his eyes in a choked manner, and was as rude as a country man who had never seen the world.
"Hmm...... I don't think Ikaruga will be satisfied. The ugly Indian said unhurriedly.
"Not satisfied? Why is he dissatisfied? Why is he not satisfied? Shocked and frightened, Peter Davis asked, "I'm Peter Davis!" I'm a noble pure-blooded Caucasians! There is no Anglo-Saxon like me on this whole continent with blue blood flowing in my body! I have called him, and what satisfaction does he have? ”
The ugly Indian lifted the back of his bruised hand to look at it, then grabbed Peter Davis's snow-white hand and put its own dark, rough hand side by side.
"Blue blood? Behold, the blood seems to be bluer than yours! This ugly Indian said.
His thick protruding veins were like hideous earthworms, and Peter Davis's "blue blood" hidden under his snow-white skin was like a delicate silk thread.
Peter Days only felt that he had been humiliated like never before, and he pulled his hand back hard, and then he couldn't be afraid, and scolded:
"Idiot! Your dirty hands! Peter Davis scolded hatefully: "Don't think that if you kill Charles, you can do whatever you want!" God is watching from heaven! Will pay for today's crimes! You and your turtledove, you'll pay the price! ”
"Oh? At what cost? ”
“…… Lyon will definitely kill you! He'll sink into the Missouri River tied to a stone - no, that's too cheap for you! He will skin you and hang you on the cross! And your turtledove, I will throw him into the crocodile pond to fight my black warrior and let him be tortured to death! Peter Davis said. But as he said this, his steps were quietly receding.
That ugly (this chapter is not finished!) )
Chapter Ninety-Six: God, I'm Peter Davis!
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The Indians tilted their heads sideways as if to think about something—and that's when Peter Davis realized that the ugly fellow didn't have half an ear!
"It sounds similar to what we Indians are going through, and there seems nothing more terrifying!"
"Bastard! Shameless bastards! Pastor Brown will come to your wives and children and sell them all into slavery in Kentucky! And your people, all of them will be slaves! You'll be stuffed in a mine until you die without seeing the sun! Wherever you hide, Brown will find you until your entire tribe is wiped out! ”
The ugly Indian was so patient that every time Peter Davis said he was listening.
If he could have cut off the head of Charles's butler with the dagger of orange peel he had just gone, he would have been a good-natured Indian.
"Peter Davisson, please don't intimidate me with what I've been through—" said the ugly and good-natured Indian.
Peter-Davis retreated all the way to the edge of the eaves of the terrace, and if he went any further back, it would be raining, so he hesitated for a moment and stopped.
His legs were shaking.
The good-natured Indian patiently advised: "And, you had better change your mind, and not wait until three days later, nor on your estate, but at once go to the turtledove, and at once go to the place where Madara was, and confess to him with weeping and tears, and swear that you will be happy with him in the future—
"Put!" Peter Davis screamed and stubbornly turned his back away. It was obvious that his body was terrified, but unless he saw it with his own eyes, he would have thought that he was a king of iron bones.
"Forget it, whatever! Whatever! The good-natured Indian said, "I would have liked to tie you up, but an old bastard told me to convince people with reason—you'll change your mind by midnight at the latest!"
"Haha!" Peter Davis hugged the pillar hard, but performed his righteousness in Hamlet's tone: "Be brave, or give in?" I'm the answer! ”
……
So, on this rain-soaked terrace, a white-blooded man of the purest blood and a group of Indians who did not know what blood was, waited boredly.
Fort Laramie in the distance resembles a small oval hill in the dark night, with only a rough outline to be seen.
Occasionally, there was a misty flash from the direction of the city, but it was not clear. It's like a torch, or a lantern, but it's definitely not lightning, and it's autumn, and there's no lightning anymore.
Still, there was a faint rumbling sound once in a while, and Peter Davis couldn't help but doubt what he had learned about the science he had learned—perhaps, there would still be thunder and lightning in the fall, right?
He noticed that the rain was falling more from the house overhead, wetting his clothes. At first, he was holding back his discomfort, but within 30 seconds, he was two inches back, dodging the cold drizzle.
"How long do we have to wait? I'm a little sleepy, it's time to rest! He said.
"There was still a gift that was not delivered, you should be looking forward to it." Said the good-natured Indian.
"I just want to kill you all!"
"Don't you want to think about it at this time, if Lai Ang kills Madara, then I'm sure I'll kill you?"
"It's a stupid question!" Peter Davis said, "God bless Ang! God bless the cloth! Bless America! ”
Just then, a cavalry came from the direction of Fort Laramie)
Chapter Ninety-Six: God, I'm Peter Davis!