American comics start with Zha Kang’s apprentice

It was unbearably hot in Newcastle in August, and even though the front of Andre's car was leaning on the bank of the Tyne, he still couldn't feel a trace of cool breeze blowing from the river.

Even though the sky is dark as if it is covered with a dark curtain, everyone knows that it is not a sign of rain, and the locals in Newcastle do not like rain, because the falling rain is more like dirty and greasy Asphalt, they will coat the entire road, adhere to your shoes, wheels, or pour directly on you, get into your nostrils, and the rust that cannot be dissipated for a long time, almost with Newcastle The smell of coking coal will penetrate deep into your lungs, flow into your blood vessels, and eventually become a part of you.

Andre grabbed a bite-sized chicken roll and watched blankly as three guys in suits skillfully poured cement into the throat of an unlucky guy. Almost all of the guy's teeth were knocked out, and his jaw was also damaged. Smashed. Now, the guy's face was almost nothing but swollen and cracked rotten flesh. He wanted to close his mouth, but that would be unless a miracle happened.

And there are no fucking miracles in this world.

The muffled sound was harsh and unpleasant. The guy kicked his broken legs. He could no longer touch his mouth with his hands. This was not because his hands were tied, but because his hands were tied. Cut off. They are now staying in a rusty iron barrel nearby, which is also filled with cement.

"Clap" sound.

As the unfortunate guy who rolled his eyes finally used up his last bit of strength to let out a whimper, the melted sauce from the chicken roll in Andre's hand also fell to the ground.

"Go get the saw, boy!" The burly man wearing sunglasses and slicked-back hair turned to Andre and shouted.

Andre immediately threw away the chicken roll that was getting more and more nauseating, then walked around the front of the car and ran to the trunk.

"...Lord Mountbatten and his family were killed in the attack, along with four of his escorts who died in the explosion. This tragedy is just the beginning, we have just been informed that eighteen Border Patrol members Killed in an IRA ambush.”

The radio in the car still played the news that seemed to be interrupted suddenly.

But Andre had no intention to care about those serious events that seemed close at hand but far away. He now had his own problems that he needed to focus on.

Yes, killing and dismembering the dying man in front of him is what he should be concerned about, as well as the business within the organization and the recent frequent struggles.

Andre opened the trunk. He pulled open a dirty but shiny black bag, then bent down and pulled out the saw and a machete inside.

Andre noticed the dirt on the machete that seemed to have never been wiped, coupled with the metallic smell that filled the bag, he almost spit out the food he had only eaten.

Only now did Andre know why these seniors asked him to drive them on an empty stomach to deal with the aftermath.

But what Andre couldn't figure out was why he didn't just stuff the poor guy into a bucket, fill it with cement, and finally sink it into the water.

A bullet or a knife to cut the throat, but they go to such trouble to do this, is this considered a fucking professional?

Andre closed the lid of the trunk. He didn't dare to disobey the three rich and powerful seniors. After all, he was just a small character who wanted to make a living. He didn't want to be like his cowardly father who died of tuberculosis in his own vomit. Usually they continue to work in the surviving coal mines.

The people there are like shadows forever shrouded in darkness, and like evil spirits walking in hell.

Newcastle never remembered them.

They have no future at all.

Andre found a more respectable job. He just drove a car, wore a suit and hid behind a few big guys to act pretentious, and he could get women, money, fear and respect.

Andre was satisfied.

But it seems that's all over.

When Andre walked back to the front of the car, he saw that the three seniors were all dead. Their heads and part of their bodies had been poked in the cement bucket, while the other part had been torn off by the guy who filled it with cement. On oneself.

The guy's eyes now seemed to be covered with a translucent film, and the broken chin was still hanging from his mouth.

Andre's head began to buzz, and he felt that he might be having the most bizarre nightmare, but at the same time he knew that what he saw was real.

Three ruthless people died silently, but what killed them was a zombie-like thing.

With a muffled sound of "clang", the saw and machete in Andre's hand fell to the ground, and he tremblingly took out his gun.

For some reason, Andre didn't escape. He even felt that he had no chance of escaping from the monster in front of him.

Andre was right, he just blinked and the damn thing was standing in front of him.

Gunshots rang out, and the monster's chest and abdomen were hit by several bullets. No blood flowed out, and there was no cement. The bullet holes in the monster's belly suddenly tore flesh and bruised skin under a burst of squirming. Two arms stretched out, and the two arms stretched out to Andre like lightning, tightly holding Andre's hands.

"Oh my God..." Andre was so frightened that he immediately screamed and his useless pistol fell to the ground.

"Don't be afraid... I'm not here to kill you... I just bring you a message... a prophecy..." The monster's throat made a strange muffled sound as countless flies flew out, and the sound was indistinguishable. Men and women, "Someone wants to kill you...go to the place I tell you...find someone...he will help you...and will give you the status and wealth you dream of..."

Andre was stunned when he heard the monster's ugly voice. He didn't understand what this guy meant.

Suddenly, the monster in front of him let go of his hand, and then threw himself lifelessly into Andre's arms. As Andre ducked back in fright, the body that had been restored to a corpse fell to the ground.

This was not the end. The body disintegrated rapidly, and countless maggots and flies emerged from the body and the filthy mud that exuded the stench of sulfur.

Andre covered his mouth and nose. He kept walking backwards, avoiding the black swarms of flies in fear.

The next second, Andre found that everything in front of him was normal.

"Hey! Boy, what are you doing?" The man with slicked back hair shouted impatiently at Andre.

Andre was soaked all over. Under the heat and his heart pounding, he had no idea whether what he had just experienced was a daydream or a real strange event.

But at least everything seems to be back on track now.

Andre licked his lips, and then took a step forward with a dry mouth. Just as he was far away from the front of the car, he heard the wipers suddenly move again.

Andre turned his head nervously, and he saw the words "Northeast of Hadrian's Wall" written on the glass under the swinging wipers that could not be erased in blood.

What exactly is going on?

Andre turned his head when his senior scolded him again. He didn't see the face of a man with a sinister smile blurred on the car window next to the word in blood.