Compare Holsey with the people in her family.

Zhang Jing is not too happy, he can basically do everything from his heart.

didn't know that Zhang Jing was running the train in his heart, Holsi asked with concern, "Where did you go during the time you disappeared?"

"Treasure hunting, the occasional nightclub."

I haven't been to nightclubs recently, and Zhang Jing is reminding Holsey that he is a scumbag and should not have exclusive ideas.

When it comes to treasure hunting, Holsi thinks of an email he once saw in his mother's mailbox, "There is a primeval forest at the foot of Mt. Fuji, and people commit suicide in it all year round;

On the surface, it may seem like nothing, but some people think it's supernatural."

Satomi Hamabe, a civilian soldier who fried chicken, also said so, and it was suspected that it was the third form before.

Like humans, the third form is a product of natural evolution.

It's just longer and in smaller quantities.

After a short stay in Rotterdam for two days, accompanied enough by Holsi, Zhang Jingfei went to Fried Chicken-Tokyo.

Go straight to the supermarket when you land, prepare a 60-liter backpack, buy some food, water, raincoat, tarpaulin, trekking poles, lighters, hiking boots, etc.

These things are all in the Mithril space, and they are only purchased to hide people's eyes.

In front of the supermarket, call Uber on your phone, take a taxi to a suicide resort.

The taxi arrived quickly, and the driver was a silver-haired, thin man of about 70 years old.

Dressed in a black suit and black leather shoes, he opened the car door for Zhang Jing.

Zhang Jing smiled and sat in the back row.

After confirming that the guests were seated, the uncle gently closed the car door from behind.

Then go around to the front of the car to check that there are no safety hazards, and then get on the car.

Looks pretty robust.

The car started and left the door of the supermarket, and the uncle tried to communicate with Zhang Jing in fried chicken language.

Zhang Jing naturally didn't understand, and through his body language, he could probably judge that he was persuading himself to live well.

Just as it was the wind in his ears, Zhang Jing closed his eyes and rested quietly to relieve the fatigue of taking the plane.

After about forty minutes of driving, the taxi pulled up outside a country greenhouse.

The silver-haired driver motioned for Zhang Jing to get out of the car.

Don't worry about being robbed, Zhang Jing did it.

Then out of the greenhouse came a teenager with eyes, who looked to be in his early twenties, and had a lot of pimples on his face.

The driver explained to the young man in fried chicken language, and the young man nodded frequently, and then looked at Zhang Jing.

"Big brother," the young man looked at Zhang Jing and introduced himself, "I'm from the Northeast, working here, and my uncle said that you plan to go to the Suicide Forest."

Zhang nodded, "I'm going to travel, don't think too much."

"This big brother," the young man tried to explain, "it's not fun over there, and there's a high probability of encountering a horrible corpse;

I recommend you to go to Shinjuku City, where there are a lot of beautiful girls who will make you feel relaxed."

As he spoke, the young man took out about 20,000 fried chicken yuan from his pocket and handed it to Zhang Jing.

Zhang Jing: "..."

Seeing the indifference of his compatriots in front of him, the young man thought that Zhang Jing insisted on dying, and continued to persuade: "Many troubles in this society are compared to each other;

When people can't eat enough, they only have one dream, just eat enough;

If you have to compare, compare your appearance with Ma's father, and be younger than Liu Hua;

If you encounter an opponent who can't be rolled, you will take care of your body and live longer than your opponent, so please don't go to the Suicide Forest."

Zhang Jing's expression darkened, "Do you want me to say that I am full?"

"I didn't mean that," the young man shook his head, "I mean the Suicide Forest isn't fun."

Zhang Jing was grateful to his compatriots for worrying about his safety, turned around and got into the taxi, urging the uncle to hurry up.

As a result, Nimei, the uncle really sent him to the red light district of Shinjuku.

The car stopped in front of a shop with two black silk two-dimensional girls.

It's beautiful!

After paying the uncle's fare, Zhang Jing took another taxi again, seven in the evening

The point came to a homestay on the outskirts of the Suicide Forest.

Overall, Zhang Jing is very strong, but he will not add trouble to himself out of thin air, and there is no need to go into the forest at night.

The wind blew the trees and swayed, and in the call of the night owl birds, Zhang Jing saw the owner of the homestay.

An old woman in her seventies and eighties, looking like a withered and hunched back, owns the wooden Japanese-style building in front of her that has been around for at least half a century.

The small building is two stories high and has a front width of about seven or eight meters.

The language was incomprehensible, and the old woman beckoned Zhang Jing to enter the house with her.

There was no yard, the house was next to a gravel path, and behind it was a rushing stream.

Plus it's dark, and the environment is some.... Cool?

Believing that all beings are equal at gunpoint, Zhang Jing followed the old woman's footsteps, stepped on the steps, passed through the corridor, and entered the interior of the two-story wooden house.

Classic Japanese style, clean and tidy, but everything looks old.

Passing through the vestibule, in the back half of the small wooden building, there is a small room of about 12 or 13 square meters.

Visible in the orange light, there were no appliances such as televisions in the small room, only slammed rice, a low table, and two neatly stacked light gray quilts.

Fortunately, the quilt is not white, otherwise it will be very weird to match with such an old house.

Thanking the woman, Zhang Jing closed the sliding door from the room.

About ten minutes later, an old woman knocked on the door and brought a piece of sushi wrapped in seaweed and a bottle of water.

Food Zhang Jing will not eat.

The bottled water looks fine, and Zhang Jing won't drink it.

This is not the heart of a villain, because he is a bad person, and a bad person understands a bad person, and he can use any means.

Eat what you have brought, sacrifice your internal organs, turn off the light and go to sleep.

Sleep with smart beans and black beans in your arms.

There may be mental illness and insomnia from sleeping without holding your pet.

Of course, women will be better and sleep more soundly, but it's a pity that girlfriends are not around.

There are several private jets in the alliance area, but it is rumored that the place where he sleeps is very simple, and the reasons are probably similar.

At one o'clock in the middle of the night, Zhang Jing was awakened by the licking of the face of the smart bean, and the metal could see that there was someone outside the wooden sliding door.

A woman.

The woman carried a short straight blade and a samurai short sword.

What is certain is that she is not Hamabe Mizakura, and her equipment is different.

With a quick thought in his head, Zhang Jing put the pet into the Mithril space.

At the same time, the wooden sliding door was gently opened from the outside, and the woman walked in with a samurai dagger and approached the tatami mat little by little.

When he came to him, he raised his knife and stabbed it at the quilt.

With a bang, the tip of the knife pierced through the quilt and stuck on the wooden board, realizing that something was wrong, it was too late.

A solid stream of unidentified liquid sprayed on the face.

"Ahh

The killer lost his resistance for a second, threw away the katana in his hand, and crouched down with his face hugged.

The devil's spicy is not a joke, although the face is covered, but the eyes are sprayed more uncomfortable.

Turn on the orange light and see who is coming.

A short-haired woman, about forty years old, less than 1.6 meters tall.

I couldn't see my facial features, and at this moment, the woman was in pain with her face hugging, and her screams were heartbreaking.

Pulling out a parachute rope from his backpack, Zhang Jing tied the hands of the shark hand, who had lost his resistance, with his legs.

The tying craft that I learned from Edgar is not very proficient because of the lack of binding.

Edgar is Zhang Jing's diving instructor, with tough facial features, sharp eyes, and a naturally fierce expression, Unike's bodyguard, and Mike's former team leader.

Good at driving, shooting, and - bondage.

Because the attacker's eyes were in unbearable pain and tightly closed, Zhang Jingxin softly took a bottle of mineral water and poured it on her head.

Easily subdue enemies.

The kind-hearted Zhang Jing then thought of the owner of the homestay, and found that the old woman was just stunned in the room on the second floor, and he breathed a long sigh of relief.

If it's because of him

It would be sad to kill an innocent person.

However, kindness does not mean that Zhang Jing is a bully.

"The third is more, thank you for your support, a lot of love."