Feast of villains

Chapter 67 67. The Art Student Who Failed

"Goo?"

"I'm not angry, I just want to blackmail her."

"Goo!"

"I'm bad? How good can you be, an owl that only has milk and is a mother?"

"Cuckoo-"

One man and one bird fought and came down from the monastery.

After noon, the clouds lowered a lot and became more gloomy and ominous.

On the way to the small town of Tuen Mun, a few audio-visual stores, game halls, and body modification shops sporadically flashed on both sides of the street... Pedestrians wrapped in thick winter clothes were smoking while walking, some looked down at newspapers, and occasionally saw The violent young men who quarreled, drew their guns at each other if they disagreed with each other.

This is a forgotten suburban town, where everyone lives in a mess and wantson.

Nance, who was wearing a retro British style suit, exuded a bookish face, which was incompatible with the chaotic environment.

Leather shoes trampled on the icy road, and a dozen large trucks rested side by side in the roadside parking lot.The diameter of the wheel is nearly 3 meters, and the words "Evelace Group" are sprayed on the outer shell. It is a special vehicle for transporting black gold ore.

Nance gazed raptly at the Queen's estate.

These exaggerated behemoths like giant beasts galloped on the road, transporting carts of black gold mines from the southwest of the empire to Shin-Yokohama, then crossed the ocean to South America, and finally arrived at the queen's base camp.

Black gold, a black crystal, is a new type of ore born with the appearance of the Dead Sea.

Heating 100 grams of black gold to 700°C yields 0.3 grams of helium-3—the raw material of choice for controlled nuclear fusion.

At present, the most important energy source on the earth is hydrogen energy, which accounts for [-]% of global energy consumption, traditional fossil energy accounts for [-]%, and nuclear fusion energy accounts for the remaining [-]%.

In fact, the application technology of controllable nuclear fusion is very mature, and the proportion of energy consumption should be higher.It's just that the black gold mines mined by several large energy companies are only stored and not put into the market.

Nan Si didn't understand why the queen was wrong to play the cosmic street, but wanted to settle on the earth like a hamster and stock up on black gold mines... Could it be that the earth is about to be destroyed, and the queen plans to use these as a reserve energy source for human interstellar immigration?

just kidding.

The earth will not be destroyed so easily.

But having said that, if you really want interstellar immigration, which planet is the first choice... Mars?Ceres?Europa?Or just jump out of the solar system... But it seems that nuclear fusion energy is not enough to support humans to go out of the solar system, and the controllable antimatter technology has not yet been conquered...

After walking along the parking lot for a while, Nance recalled the thoughts that had spread to the sea of ​​stars and stopped.

Several motorcycles were parked on the side of the road, and a dozen gangsters formed a circle, punching and kicking a young man in the middle.Some of them are holding chains, some are holding batons, most of them have dyed hair blond or red, and have tattoos on their necks.

When Nance walked over, several people looked back at him with sharp and threatening eyes.

"Hey, go aside, don't look near here!" The young man in the lead shouted.

There seemed to be blood flowing from their encirclement.

Nance ignored the threat and walked up to them: "This kind of beating will kill people."

"Hey, hey, it's none of your business. Believe it or not, I'll kill you too!" The young man with the iron chain cursed, "Killing one person is killing two people, I don't mind the trouble!"

"You can't kill for no reason!" Nance said.

"You can't kill without reason!"

Someone imitated what he said with a strange accent, which immediately provoked a harsh laughter from the rest of the people.

"It doesn't matter whether you kill it or not! Take your broken bird and leave!" The leading youth shouted, kicking the wriggling man on the ground, "Otherwise this will be your fate."

Nance took off his hat.

"Little A!" he shouted.

Miss Owl glanced at him, stretched out her claws to hook the hat, flew to the trash can by the side of the road and squatted to watch the show.

"You want to get ahead!"

"court death!"

"Get rid of him first—"

The first one to rush out was a rather tall little gangster with a calm and fierce face.He has practiced for a while, and he has a high status among this group of punks, and he is also the one who can fight the most.He directly stopped in front of Nance, and put his big hand directly on Nance's shoulder: "Boy, let me teach you a lesson first..."

He was very big and tall, and Nance looked very gentle in front of him.

Nance didn't say anything, and didn't show any politeness to him, he just slapped him out with a backhand.

"Snapped--"

With the splash of blood and broken teeth, he staggered back a few steps and fell directly into the trash can on the side of the road.

Someone on the side reached out and grabbed Nance's arm.

Nance turned slightly sideways and grabbed his neck with one hand.

Just like this, he was pinched and walked a few steps forward before being thrown aside. He fell to the ground, clutching his neck and coughing desperately.

"No, you, you are Adel..." The leading young man recognized him, and took two steps back trembling, "Everyone, run, this man is a familiar..."

Nance kicked away the man who was holding the chain and screaming the loudest, and then went straight to the leader.

I didn't bother to talk to him about the big reasons, so I grabbed his collar with one hand and swung the other hand high.

With two slaps, and then with a flick of his hand, he rolled a few times and struggled to sit up.

"Do you want to continue beating?" Nance looked at him and asked word by word: "If you beat me again, I will kill you, believe it or not?"

The little boss, whose teeth had been knocked out, trembled in fright, and burst into tears.

The boss was frightened and cried, and the other gangsters didn't dare to make trouble, and they helped each other to help their companions and scattered.

Nance walked over to the man who had been beaten.

He just suffered a little skin trauma, and he has already sat up by himself, and is wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve.

There was not much anger in those brown eyes, only a trace of numbness accumulated over the years.

"Use this." Nance handed him a handkerchief.

"Thank you."

"what is it call?"

"Craig Alexandrovich."

"How did you provoke them?"

Craig looked up at him: "Is this also a question?"

"Sorry, professional habits..." Nance smiled in a friendly manner.

"I just got my wages today, and they saw me when I was filling the car..." Craig returned the handkerchief to Nance. Nance shook his head, and he put it in his pocket, stood up and said, patting the dust on his butt , "Tuen Mun is a damn place where stray dogs can get kicked twice, let alone a painter who just got paid."

Yes.

Nance recognized him right from the start. He was the failed art student who helped draw posters for the monastery.

"Are you going back to the city?" Clegg looked at Nance. "In return, I can give you a ride along the way."

"That would be best."

"But my car smells like fish, don't you mind?"

"I like fish."

"Your answer is a bit different." Clegg walked towards the refrigerated truck parked in the gas station, "In this world, decent-looking guys usually only talk beautifully, but they can't be trusted at all in reality. It's like a politician on TV. You're a politician too, right?"

"Barely." Nance beckoned.

Doraemon flew back, landed on his shoulder, and put the hat on him by the way.

"Can owls walk?"

"It's actually a puppy."

"Your way of speaking is really different... Are the left and right tufts of hair on its head its ears?"

"That's the signal receiver."

"Goo-"

Miss Owl opened her mouth and pecked Nance's ear, expressing her dissatisfaction with his nonsense.

"Let's go." Clegg greeted Nance to get on the refrigerated truck and drove towards the city.

The cab is shabby, the whole car is rickety to drive, and it does have a stale fishy smell.

"Back to the question just now," Clegg held the steering wheel, shaking his body, "Are you also a hateful politician?"

"It's true that I'm a politician, but I shouldn't be considered a hateful politician." Nance slowly twirled the bristling hair on Miss Owl's head with both hands, "It's right to say that I am a poor abandoned politician."

Clegg scolded like an angry youth: "There is no such thing as a politician that cannot be hated."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he seemed to have just remembered that Nance saved him, and quickly turned around to apologize to Nance: "I'm sorry, I was excited..."

Nance smiled lightly.

It's no fun arguing with others about whether politicians are good people. It's better to play Doraemon.Miss Owl was not interested in listening either. She stretched her neck and looked at Nance. As soon as he stretched out his hand, he opened his mouth to peck his palm.

"The really poor ones are the proletariat." Clegg said to himself, taking his hands off the steering wheel to show Nance, "Those politicians who sit on chairs and move their mouths to give orders to others are disgusting." .”

"You're driving!" Nance reminded.

Clegg quickly put his hands back on the steering wheel.

Nance said on the sidelines: "It is not necessarily a politician who is sitting in an office chair and giving orders, but may also be a capitalist."

"I don't know, I'm poor, and I don't know who a big shot is. Speaking of big shots, I want to ask you, is the mayor of Shin-Yokohama a capitalist?"

"It shouldn't be counted, at most it's just a running dog of the capitalists."

"The mayor is a dog?" Clegg thought of the big black stray dog ​​near his home.

"Speak up for the capital, walking on the street and barking at people's dogs." Nance mused, "People call this kind of politicians the lackeys of capital."

"Are there capitalist cats?"

"Is there, some women who want to take a shortcut?"

"You are so funny." Clegg laughed. "The mayor is the lackey of the capitalist, and the woman is the cat of the capitalist. It is really a good opinion!"

The refrigerated truck drove into the downtown area of ​​Shin-Yokohama along the coastal road.

Under the gloomy sky, colorful neon lights shone in every corner of the city, making both sides of Victoria Harbor extremely bright.

These serious light pollutions are spiritual inducers released by capital, and they are always tempting citizens who are spiritually empty.

Whether it is a suspended tram over a viaduct, or an electronic advertising screen on the street; whether it is a holographic projection shining among high-rise buildings, or a pop-up window that pops up from time to time in the electronic brain...anything you can perceive may be an advertisement carrier.

"Mr. Adair."

"what?"

"If you become the mayor, is there a way to increase the income of the poor?"

"Well, it's hard..." Nance combed Doraemon's feathers and said as if to pass the time, "When I become the mayor, there are many problems before me. Should I optimize the economic structure first, or let the Should the flow of assets be more reasonable first? Should the government itself increase income and reduce expenditure first? Should it offend financial capital in order to protect the real manufacturing industry? How to overcome the panic financial crisis triggered by the escape of financial capital? Guaranteeing the income of the proletarians, to put it bluntly, is to fight Capital. There are too many problems to be encountered, and it is not a matter of shouting slogans..."

"Can't the proletarians and capitalists come together?"

"No, the nature of capital is to seek profit, and the proletarian can only be exploited."

"If only there was no capital..."

"No capital does not mean happiness." Nance leaned against the car window and looked at the garbage floating on the gray sea water. "Everyone has the instinctive impulse to accumulate wealth and the desire to compare, which is part of nature. When the output When all the income belongs to the collective, individuals cannot accumulate more wealth than those around them just by hard work, and their enthusiasm for production will decline. Whether you work hard or not, you can eat and wear the same clothes as others, so why work hard? The production efficiency is greatly affected. A general economic recession is bound to happen ... Of course, this is just my personal opinion, you can take it as a joke."

Craig looked thoughtful.

After sending Nance to the Hung Hom Pier, he continued to drive along the seaside and returned to his home in Tseung Kwan O.

This is one of the largest slums in Shin-Yokohama. Electric wires criss-cross overhead like spider webs, and several dirty ditches run through them.The narrow, crooked streets are full of crime and stench, and full of ragged and sick people.

Clegg parked his car on the side of the road and walked into the alley.

Along the way are small houses crammed together, including iron sheets, wood, containers, foam...all cheap building materials can be seen.

He had gone to school and knew that such a place had major fire hazards, but at least it was a home, so he wouldn't be frozen to death on the street like a homeless person.

"Hey, painter!"

A cute little girl spoke to Craig who was walking with his head bowed.

He looked over and found that this was a member of the vagrant gang entrenched in Tseung Kwan O, a girl he had met several times.He remembered her name, Little Jasmine.

"Good afternoon." Craig greeted her.

Little Jasmine smiled and said, "Seeing that you are in a trance today, did you encounter any troubles? How about this, you and Little Jasmine buy a flower, which guarantees that you will meet lucky things tomorrow. It only costs 18p Yo, it’s cheap, isn’t it?”

Craig looked at the flower basket full of yellow roses in her hand, and shook his head: "You'd better sell it in a place with a lot of rich people first, if you really can't sell it, come back and sell it to me at night."

"Alright, first cheat the rich and then cheat you."

"what?"

"Haha, I gave you one." Little Jasmine took out a rose flower from the flower basket and handed it to him, smiling sweetly: "Draw a portrait of Little Jasmine when I have time, and make it look better."

"I must draw you as a little princess."

Craig took the flowers, said goodbye to her, and went back to his own door.

Walking 20 meters to the left on the opposite side, there is a brunette standing against the door, looking forward to someone.Her face is very young, with a thick layer of powder, and her lips are bright red. I don't know if it's the color of the lipstick or it's frozen.

Craig glanced at her, pushed the door open and entered the room.

That woman attracted him very much. He talked to her once half a year ago.It was a sweltering summer night, and she stood under a dim street lamp and opened her mouth to say, "200 packs of fast food, 800 per night".

"It's a pity that I only had 100 pence at that time..." Clegg pushed open the door and entered the iron house built with wooden frames.

Although there is some air leakage in the wall, but fortunately there is a heater inside, so the whole room can still give people a warm feeling.

The furniture is in a state of being used as long as it can be used, and the mother who is seriously ill sleeps comfortably on the only bed.

Craig bowed to his mother, then moved out a few wooden boards, and built a slightly uneven hard bed with stools, and quickly fell asleep with his still aching body.

What a wonderful portrayal of the benevolence of the upper echelons of the empire - the law still allows the poor to sleep, after all.

※※※※※

Nance returned to Lesson [-] and headed straight for the dungeon.

The dungeon, which was destroyed beyond recognition during the riots, has regained the conditions for holding prisoners after simple reconstruction-provided that the prisoners do not want to escape.

In the interrogation room, the female teacher kidnapped by Miss Su from St. George's Middle School sat quietly and calmly, as if she didn't care about her situation at all.

He sensed someone coming at the door.

She nodded and greeted with a smile: "Hello, Mr. Adel."

　4500 words, published together.

　　This kind of plot always feels that it is better to finish the chapter.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)