At noon, a corner of Xicheng District of Shanxi City.

The rows of bungalows are lined up one after another, and the monotonous black and gray walls are intertwined, which looks a little awkward, like an unfinished abstract ink painting. The streets are dusty and potholed, like a piece of cheese that has been decayed for a long time, and are obviously unsuitable for any means of transport except legs and feet.

Any city has its glamorous side, and of course, there must be dirty and dilapidated corners. This is unavoidable, even in Shanxi City, which has the reputation of the holy city of the north.

At this point, on the corner of a street, "Excuse me, does the painter Hancier live here?"

Hansiel...... It's the down-and-out painter. Yes, you go all the way down the street, and the one on the left side of the back is. ”

"Oh, Aunt Xiexie. ”

"Hehe, you're welcome......"

Saying goodbye to the kind aunt, the passer-by pulled down the fluffy collar that covered her face tightly, and a long scar like a centipede was extremely eye-catching...... Needless to say, this is naturally the Borg who has just come out of the Creekside Tavern.

The street was not long and soon came to an end. "Innermost left...... Tsk, that's it. Borg squinted at the somewhat dilapidated small house in front of him, nodded, took a few steps forward, and raised his hand to knock on the wooden door.

Bang bang bang...... Bang bang bang......

The knock on the door kept ringing, but there was no movement from inside, as if the owner was not at home. But just as Borg's brow furrowed slightly, the door creaked open.

"Who are you?" The door was opened by a middle-aged man with sunken eyes and a thin body. Dressed in a crumpled loose robe that had not been washed for a long time. A shrilling look that didn't wake up.

"It doesn't matter who I am. Are you a Hansil painter?" Seeing that the middle-aged man nodded subconsciously, the corners of Borg's mouth rose, and he pulled out a strange sneer, his left hand was spread out, and several shiny gold coins glowed with seductive colors, "I said features, you paint portraits." As long as I'm satisfied, those five gold coins are yours. ”

"Uh......" The middle-aged man named Hansil was stunned for a moment when he heard this. Immediately, he couldn't help but be overjoyed, just looking at the surrounding environment, he knew that his living situation was very bad, and just a portrait could earn hardware, which was indeed a big temptation for him.

That's right, art can't be measured in money. Sometimes, though, artists need money to make ends meet.

"No problem!" First hurriedly agreed, then scratched his head, Hansil's face hesitated, "Although I have never doubted my painting skills, but ...... weishenme made a special trip to find me, you know, my place is very remote. ”

I want to be remote...... Borg didn't move. Instead of answering the question, he pushed the door straight in: "Let's get started." ”

“...... Good. ”

The house was in a mess. There are paper and brushes scattered everywhere, and even the walls are painted with various patterns, which is indeed what a down-and-out painter should look like.

Soon, after setting up the easel, Hansil looked at Borg with his paintbrush in hand. The latter pinched his chin, groaned slightly, and said, "It is a young man, and his hair is black and not long. As for the face, well, it's ordinary......"

Here Borg was frowning and recalling, and when Hanciel heard this, he held the paintbrush and gestured a few times, but finally failed to start, and reluctantly looked up and said, "Sir, please describe it in more detail." For example, the shape of the nose, the size of the lips, and the cheekbones are not obvious...... Also, what are his distinguishing features?"

"Characteristic ......" Borg pinched the bridge of his nose, his expression was slightly tangled, "ordinary, very ordinary!"

“......”

"Oh, there's a characteristic. Just when Hansiel's face was speechless, Borg's eyes lit up, and he stroked his palm and said, "His eyes are more slender than ordinary people, and his pupils are black...... It's disgusting to look at. ”

"Long eyes, black pupils? Okay, sort out a feature. Hanciel's brush moved slightly, first outlining, then delicately drawing a pair of slender eyes, and asked, "What else?"

"And then there'...... Ordinary. ”

......

The progress of portrait painting was not smooth, not that Hansier's level was not enough. It was only then that Borg realized how difficult it was to accurately portray the annoying guy in his heart.

It's not that I can't remember, but the guy's face Borg remembers very clearly, as if it was engraved on his heart, and the pen was bloody. But just because you remember it doesn't mean you can say it accurately...... Oh, that damn mass face!

Fortunately, Hansier's painting skills are indeed quite good, although it took a lot of effort, but under the continuous comparison and discussion between the two, they finally succeeded in painting.

"Hmph!" just glanced at it, and a fierce and fierce light flashed in Borg's eyes, and he snorted coldly and clenched his fists. Needless to say, from this reaction, we know that the portrait effect is very good.

On the drawing paper, the nose is not too big, the lips are not too big, the ears are not too big, the eyebrows are not too big...... Except for the slender eyes, almost all the facial features and facial parts are neither big nor small, which is very ordinary and modest. This is the legendary public face, which is the Don we are familiar with!

Barely suppressing the inexplicable anger in his heart, Borg nodded and said approvingly: "Yes, I am satisfied." Then he reached into Hansiel's expectant gaze, as if to take out the gold coin, but when it was stretched out, it was a short sword, and with a flash of coldness, poof, it simply pierced Hansiel's heart.

"I'm sorry, your drawing skills are so good that I don't dare let you live. ”

Stumbling a few steps, Hansiel's eyes were full of confusion and pain, and he leaned back and thumped...... smashed over a few easels, and the blood instantly soaked a few pieces of drawing paper on the ground, convulsed a few times, and then fell silent.

Glancing at the corpse on the ground, Borg exhaled, and the depression in his heart because of someone dissipated a lot in an instant.

What he said just now seemed like a joke, but it was actually out of Borg's sincerity. In fact, when Hansil took over the business, it was destined to end like this. Later, I saw that Hansier's painting skills were indeed very good, and Borg naturally couldn't keep him, after all, if the incident happened, his portrait would undoubtedly be better painted......

Leaning over to take the brush that Hancier was holding tightly in his hand, Borg had no intention of disposing of the corpse on the ground. Such a withdrawn painter usually doesn't have any interaction with the people around him. It may only be known when the corpse stinks......

Pick up a blank piece of drawing paper and sweep away the clutter on the table next to it. In the room where the smell of blood grew, Borg pulled over a wooden chair and sat down.

After pondering for a while, the brush swished, and he muttered softly: "Tang En, a ground-level martial artist, proficient in disguised disguise, a person in the gray-clothed army...... Well, do you want to write this?"

The brush stopped, and he thought about it, only by showing this identity could he logically lead Don En to the front line of the army, and the matter of the canyon after that, he decided to continue writing, "Oh, there is a small team of gray space under him...... Hmph, dare to yin me, Mi Xiu, you can't run...... Do you want to add Josia? She's one of the accomplices. Tsk, no, I'm staying at the Creekside Tavern for the time being, okay, okay, I'll be merciful and give you a chance, haha......"

The room was dim, and the smell of blood became more and more intense, but Borg, who was struggling to write, was unconscious, muttering in a low voice from time to time, or raising his head wildly, driving his body to tremble...... Unspeakably weird picture!

......

Half an hour later, outside the church in Mountain Creek City.

Borg, who had re-covered his face, lingered for two or three minutes, walked up to a little boy who was playing, leaned over, spread his palms, and displayed all kinds of colorful candies, "Little friend, can you do your uncle a favor? As long as you give these two pieces of paper to the uncle and aunt in the church, these candies will be yours." ”

Licking his lips and looking at the tempting candies, the little boy nodded heavily.

"Okay, really good, uncle will reward you with one first. Well, take it, go ahead. ”

During daylight hours, the church is, of course, open. Rewarded with a reward, the little boy ran to the church with his calves as fast as he could.

Ignorant and ignorant, he didn't know what kind of monstrous waves the thin paper in his hand, which was worth a few candies, would set off. Of course, in fact, even the initiator Borg would never have imagined what kind of uncontrollable situation would happen next...... Maybe there was some feeling in his heart, but the slight drunkenness and the humiliation and hatred in his head had completely blinded his heart and eyes......

............ (To be continued......)