The beautiful daily life of Black Light Salted Fish

The expected skull.

What does Lady Death look like?

This is a topic that comic fans occasionally discuss together, but the time span of American comics is very long, and the artists responsible for the periodicals often change, which also results in the different painting styles of periodicals in different periods. Lady Death has had many appearances, from a girl to a wife and even non-human, but the most impressive face is probably the skull.

Death, as it should be.

But in any case, it is certainly not difficult for Ms. Death to change her body shape at will. Watson is more inclined to believe that the skull woman can read the heart of every intelligent life form and accordingly shape the existence they most want to see in their hearts.

Maybe she thinks I like this?

Watson couldn't guess what Ms. Death was thinking, so he could only wait quietly for the other party to speak. A strange feeling soon came over him, as if invisible fingers were gently stroking his head, but there was no pain at all. The scene in front of him was still clear. Lady Death's skull eyes shrouded under the hood were slowly glowing with blue flames. Voices began to come from Watson's mind, which sounded like the murmur of a sleeping person, vague, fragmentary and lazy.

"You...want to know the truth?"

What's going on with this strangely familiar beginning? There was a feeling of drama in Watson's heart. It seemed that the skull would continue to say "Do you want to know the meaning of life? Do you want to really... live?" in the next second.

Then a panel suddenly pops up in front of you, asking you to choose Yes or No.

"All things must eventually die."

Sitting up cross-legged from the camouflage cloth, Watson held a bullet and played with it: "What do you want to say?"

Ms. Death did not answer immediately. She lightly moved her body closer, and suddenly stretched out a finger to lift Watson's chin, which felt colder than ever before. Watson raised his eyebrows but did not stop the woman's move. The gap between the two sides is huge, and there is no point in attacking a clone. He couldn't even be sure how much the other party learned from him. If, like Professor X, he could even read brain memories...

Really hope this is just temporary.

The two deep blue flames in the skull's eye sockets swayed. After a while, Ms. Death stood up and began to slowly walk around Watson. There is a corner on the left and right sides of her cloak to tie her wrists, and her buttocks in a high-cut tights are vaguely visible in the fluttering of the cloak. The cold fingertips gently caressed the cheek, then the neck, shoulders and cervical spine. The entire upper body soon became numb, and Watson could not even turn his head.

"I don't remember I owe you anything."

He controlled his throat muscles vigorously, and his vocal cords were no longer as smooth as before: "If it is true, please tell me directly. If not, can I understand that you are just playing games?"

The numbness disappeared quickly.

However, the scene that happened next made Watson's pupils shrink. I saw Ms. Death's pale fingers leaving her shoulders. Just at the part she had just touched, a dozen tentacles reached out and wrapped around the fingers not far away. Watson tried desperately to control it in his mind, but the tentacles were not affected at all. A long-lost hunger spread over him, and he immediately realized that his black-light body was desperately craving for energy.

Just when Watson decided to reach out and grab those tentacles, Lady Death took the initiative to move her fingers closer. The dark red tentacles immediately rolled up and quickly spread to the opponent's exposed shoulder skin. What happened next was just as Watson thought. These tentacles did not cause any harm to Ms. Death. They slid like snakes trying to climb up the vertical glass window, but they could never break through.

Ms. Death was not seen making any movements, and the warm heat quickly spread into her body along the tentacles.

The hunger suddenly disappeared.

The tentacles retracted their shoulders obediently, and Watson immediately began to check his control of the body, but all feedback was normal, as if nothing had happened just now. He raised his head again and met the blue flames in Lady Death's eyes.

"You know...don't you?"

After a series of operations that tormented Watson quite a bit, the skull woman finally spoke again: "Your body was born for killing, but your soul is very special. It's like a war-weary man sitting in a killing machine... ...But do you really hate fighting?"

You'd better use these tricks against Thanos.

The scene in front of him flashed, and a smooth feeling came from the back of his head. Watson didn't have to look back to know that it came from the high stockings on Lady Death's thighs. He hesitated for a moment, stood up, took two steps away, and distanced himself from the other party: "I really have no interest in fighting. Please make it clearer. I know I have been a wicked Riddler several times before, but you will never do it. Making fun of me for this kind of thing.”

"There's no point in lying to me."

Ms. Death crossed Watson and sat on the ammunition box again: "You will be rewarded for completing this matter, which is my limited patience with your unique soul. As long as you are willing, we will not be together again until you die. Meet. But, Watson, you are bound to need death in return."

"Repay?"

Watson frowned and looked at the skull woman: "How about making me lose important people and then begging you to bring them back to the world?"

A chuckle sounded in his mind.

"I don't need to do that kind of thing, don't worry, I will just sit quietly and appreciate it. Your future is worth looking forward to, Watson." Almost instantly, Lady Death came to Watson and pointed her finger at him On the forehead: "But some misfortunes will always happen... Life will eventually have misfortunes, this is destined. One day, you will call my name from the bottom of your heart again."

"Thank you, I hope that day never comes."

"you will."

As if she suddenly lost interest in the conversation, her graceful body slowly disappeared, leaving only a whisper: "It's always like this..."

As the surroundings calmed down, Watson's vision gradually dimmed, and sudden tiredness took away his consciousness.

I do not know how long it has been.

He opened his eyes suddenly and found that he had fallen asleep on the camouflage cloth. The snow fell slowly late at night and had already accumulated a thick layer on the open space in front of me. In the small building a hundred meters away to the side, warm light was shining through the window. It was the range manager warming himself up by the fire. After taking some time to calm down, Watson sat up from the ground, leaned against the ammunition box and began to look at his palms.

He knew exactly what had just happened.

The slender fingers had graceful lines, and then split into a cluster of short tentacles under the instructions of the brain. They are intertwined with each other, and from time to time they separate, exploring the surroundings lively.

"That skull woman must smell good, right?"

Watson pinched the tentacles with his other hand and whispered to himself: "You can't always be the same, jumping around when you're hungry. I'm really fed up with you disobedient guys... ....”

For a hungry ordinary person, as long as food is delivered to his stomach - no matter how disgusting and choking it is, as long as it is actually edible, the digestive system will do its job faithfully. If the person doesn't know what he's eating, he won't even feel queasy about it. Any part of the body of the black light virus can be a digestive organ.

It's also never picky about food.

More than once, terrible images appeared in Watson's mind, such as Michelle being melted by himself, Nisha being melted by himself, or old Mrs. Carter being melted by herself. Logically speaking, this kind of thing will not happen. As long as he is not severely injured and his body's energy is completely exhausted, he can completely control this desire to eat. Under normal circumstances, the body will not be sleepy and the mind is always online. Watson himself later tried it, and even some restricted games with low risk factors were safe in terms of results.

Well...thank you Lisa.

But Lady Death has just pulled back the fig leaf.

My body is still the same.

There was no solution to this problem in the short term. After worrying about it for a while, Watson put it behind him. Another thing that is even more concerning is Lady Death’s motives. Watson guessed that the other person expected to see him indulge in killing, or fall into despair, and then the skull woman could feel pleasure from it.

And Lady Death keeps saying she won't interfere.

Is this really the case?

If this creator god is determined to go back on her word, who can punish her? There is nothing I can do for the time being, should I go to the Life Court? Thinking of this, Watson suddenly realized that although he remembered every word he said to Ms. Death, he could not recall her voice at all at this time.

......

The remaining days of vacation were uneventful.

Watson has completely become a master of the shooting range. He has touched all the weapons for rent and sale in the entire shooting range arsenal, including M16, AK47 and G3 automatic rifles several times. The old man at the shooting range has probably never met such a customer before. Christmas is almost here and he still wants to practice shooting. When Watson was packing his things last night, someone came over and said, "The shooting range will not be open tomorrow. Everyone has to celebrate." Christmas, let’s talk about it after the holidays.”

The next morning.

After servicing the firearm, Watson prepared to go out for breakfast in accordance with international practice. When he passed by Michela's training cabin, he took a look and saw that the other person was still lying quietly inside. But Si Yan was still locked in the room, typing hard on the keyboard in front of the computer screen. Ms. Kyoko has been like this for several days, and Watson is thinking of forcibly disconnecting her from the Internet tonight to prevent the mentally ill patient from dying suddenly.

Opening the door and entering the street, the atmosphere was already very lively.

As a seaside industrial city, although Le Havre was extensively damaged during World War II, many of the restored buildings still exude the ancient atmosphere since the 16th century. Combined with modern industrial equipment, it forms an extremely unique cultural flavor. Tomorrow is Christmas, and the streets and alleys are filled with warmth, which is completely different from the slightly cold and empty modern style of New York.

After eating breakfast until noon, and eating a few steaks in six restaurants, Watson grabbed a brandy bottle in his left hand and a bag of hot dogs he just bought in his right hand, and came to the mouth of the Seine River alone. On the right is the seaport of Le Havre. The industrial area is still very busy on Christmas Eve. Several huge cargo ships are lined up on the pier, receiving containers placed by cranes.

This is his after-dinner show.

Maybe there's something buried deep in men's genes that makes them interested in shoveling dirt with excavators and tearing down buildings with drills. It seems that no matter what age you are, men always pay a little more attention to it. In fact, Watson and Michela also went out to eat together, and then made a special trip to bring each other to see it. However, the girl obviously lacks interest in this rough and monotonous mechanical movement.

Looking at the turbulent sea, Watson's mood gradually sank.

'You are bound to need the reward of death'

This sentence came to mind again, like a curse. Lady Death's words were brief, but they had a complex meaning to Watson's ears. It's like a reminder, but it's also like ridicule: You only want to correct your scumbag mentality, but after all, if the lives of these two women are really in danger, will you just sit back and watch? If one day you force yourself to make a choice, will you voluntarily disappear into another person's world and never show up again no matter what?

Do you know?

...will I?

When Michela wakes up, it's probably time for a showdown, and you finally can't escape. If you confess everything and she ultimately decides to end the affair, is that a good outcome for both parties? You cured Michela's injuries and promised to work hard to make her healthier. This girl will have a richer life——

But she won't be with you.

Michela might fall in love with someone else in the future, and Nisha might do the same.

Is this something you are willing to accept?

Watson had to start taking deep breaths to relieve the increasingly obvious feeling of suffocation in his chest. A strange noise came from behind him. He turned his head slightly and saw the little wild cat rummaging through his bag of hot dogs. But Watson had no intention of caring about it at this time. He just kept breathing the cold air and turned his attention back to the large freighters in the distance.

After staring for a long time, he lowered his head.

A large mouthful of brandy was poured into his mouth, and the rich aroma rushed into his nose, but he didn't feel drunk at all. Watson hopes that he can get drunk now, just like he did in his den in his last life: put on headphones, turn up the music a little, drink a few bottles of cheap beer, and completely forget about everything.

You shouldn't be like this, Watson.

He told himself that this was wrong from the beginning and you shouldn't even bother with it. This is not a video game, Michaela and Nissa, they are independent individuals and they have the right to choose their own lives. You knew that from the beginning, didn't you? You just rely on yourself to have a good skin...

"What's wrong with you? Does your tooth hurt?"

A familiar German female voice came from the left side. Watson's clenched teeth froze for a moment, and then slowly relaxed. He turned his face slightly to the right, took a few seconds to adjust his expression, and then turned his head back.

In front of me is a pretty silhouette.