The beautiful daily life of Black Light Salted Fish

When Watson returned to the Dagenham safe house, Michela was doing push-ups on the floor. The woman only wore a sports bra, and the sweat slid down her skin, soaking those well-proportioned muscles even more beautifully. Seeing her boyfriend walking in, Michela had no intention of getting up, so she put her forearms on the ground and began to hold a plank.

Glancing at the wall clock, Watson threw the food box in his hand on the table, first pinched the levitation cloak that came over, and then opened a can of beer and drank silently. This safe house is really crude. Apart from exercise, there is nothing to spend your free time with, not even a TV.

He simply watched Michela exercise.

It was always quiet here, and his girlfriend's heartbeat and breathing could be clearly heard in Watson's ears, but he paid more attention to her complexion. After soaking in the sealed culture chamber for a few days, Michela seemed to be in much better condition. On the other hand, this is also due to the significant improvement in Michela's psychological level. Compared with last year, it can be said that it is completely different, and there is no trace of the patient she once was.

What’s more...how do you say something?

Will love nourish a woman?

Thinking of this, Watson began to rejoice that his body has endless endurance, allowing Michela to enjoy the satisfaction that other women could not ask for; in addition, there is also emotional comfort - maybe there is a need for a fight here. Question mark, after all, the eldest daughter of the vampire family, Nissa, had already intervened, but it was because of Watson's tacit inaction.

Forget it, don’t think about this first.

"What did you buy?"

Michela stood up and walked over: "I seem to smell the smell of beef."

"Belgian beer braised beef, charcoal-grilled lamb chops, smoked salmon, Yorkshire pudding..." Watson opened the boxes one by one: "There are also chicken breast vegetable salad and tomato soup, I ran all over it. It takes the whole of Dagenham to find these goodies. By the way, the beer is all cold, so you'd better let your body cool down first."

"Did you go to the arms black market today?" Michela picked up the cup and poured hot water: "How was it there?"

"It's an air-raid shelter from World War II. The way in is quite complicated, but it's really big inside. I've already made an agreement with the person who issued the certificate. If nothing happens, Ms. Jessica can go get a new legal certificate in the next few days." Sen took out several new mobile phones: "If you want to perform on the street, you must apply for a special performance certificate. It is said that you also need to take an art proficiency test. Damn it, I haven't taken a test in years."

"Are you sure Baron Otto will find Jessica soon?"

"That's right, even though Jessica has been a Hydra for many years, her old commander is very special to her..." Watson raised his hand and gestured: "That's it, you You know, so Jessica rarely appears in public among other Hydra factions, and she wears a mask whenever she goes out. If anyone can quickly recognize her face, it’s basically Baron Otto.”

"Hmph, it makes me want to shoot him a magazine."

Michelle, who was covered in sweat, took off her bra and sat down to blow the air: "When I woke up, I checked the scale and found that my weight has increased by almost 7 kilograms recently. It must be because you keep tossing me so much that I can't get out of bed. I don't do it every day like before. Exercise. I’m going to resume aerobic exercise starting tomorrow. Fortunately, there is a treadmill here. I’ll wait and see if that thing still works.”

"You're fine the way you are."

Watson's words are definitely sincere: "There is still some fat in the human body. As a doctor, you should know it very well. And your body is already injured, so don't do too much to restore physical fitness. To be honest, I I think those previous battles were already too much for you..."

As he was talking, he realized that the topic was not going in the right direction and quickly shut up.

But Michela had already looked over.

"Sorry, I didn't mean that." Watson blinked and looked away, trying to avoid irritating Miss Butterfly Knife's sensitive pride: "Every time I leave you on the battlefield, I will worry about your situation. You can only try your best to stay in front and attract more enemy firepower, so that you will be safer in the rear. But... the situation on the battlefield will not be so ideal every time, do you understand? Last time in the Congo jungle That warlord Tolan's mission, Luper suddenly said you were shot, and I just...I don't want to interfere with your freedom, but I am really afraid that something like this will happen again."

After he finished speaking, the only sound left was the whirring of the electric fan in the basement. When Watson was about to raise his head, the blowing air was suddenly disturbed. Michela walked up to him with her hands on her hips. There was no emotion on her calm face: "That's why you want me to make poison." ?You don’t want me to go to the battlefield again?”

"...That's right."

After hesitating for a moment, Watson decided to tell the truth: "The longer we get along, the less I want you to be in danger. And the wolf pack is about to be disbanded. Do you have any other reason to fight?"

Miss Butterfly Knife looked into those eyes, slowly took a few steps closer, and hugged her boyfriend's face into her chest. The basement became quiet again, and Watson held Michela's waist, feeling the powerful heartbeat rhythm. On the surface of the skin, the sweat is far from drying up, and gently rubbing against the lips creates the illusion of heat. I don't know how much time passed before the woman's voice came out through her chest: "I can understand, but I still have to say, Mr. Watson, you are really controlling."

"Your heart is beating fast."

Watson raised his face.

"Yeah, indeed."

The woman's lips curled up slightly and she blinked: "But why?"

With a crash, Watson pushed Michelle directly onto the table, and innocent table objects were swept to the ground. In the corner, the big fan is still whining, but it won't be the noisiest one for a long time.

......

April 4, morning, London.

"Are you Jessica?"

A tall, thin black man wearing a cotton hat stood by the flower bed, looking at Jessica carrying a small bag and frowning: "Jessica Miriam Drew?"

"it's me."

Miss Watson, who transformed into Spider-Woman Jessica Drew, hung up the phone and shrugged.

The man looked Jessica up and down. She was tall, with hot curves and a sweet appearance, just like a fashionably dressed young girl on the streets of London. He shook his head and took out a piece of paper from his pocket: "Forget it, take a look at this. These are the precautions. If you violate them, you will be responsible for the consequences. I will give you an overview and return it to me after reading."

"Thank you." Jessica took it and glanced at it before returning it: "Where do we go in?"

"Come in here." The man patted the door panel behind him, and soon a fat policeman opened the door, but before raising his foot, he said to Jessica with a serious face: "Hey, girl, I usually don't You know how to do this kind of work, but your friend spent a lot of money and promised that your background is clean, which is best true. If you are found to have any problems and are arrested later, I will not help you. Do you understand? I took a lot of risk in doing this, and if you pass the test smoothly, it will be good for me, understand?"

"I see."

Jessica took out a roll of pounds and stuffed it into it.

"very good."

The man counted them, divided out most of them and handed them to the fat policeman who opened the door: "You will follow him after he goes in, and you are not allowed to run around."

"Let's go."

The fat policeman was a little impatient. After urging Jessica to come in, he immediately closed the door and took the lead. There was no one in the spacious hall early in the morning. Most of the staff were chatting and didn't even bother to look this way. The two walked into the remote southeast corner. The fat policeman asked Jessica to wait where she was before he turned right and entered a room. Only a few laughs were heard from inside, and the fat policeman opened the door again and came out, holding a stamped document in his hand for Jessica to sign: "This is the proof of loss report of your ID document at the police station. You will see it later." You have to take it to the staff, write the date on Friday, this is the only one, no typos are allowed."

He took a breath, handed Jessica another small ticket, and then pointed to the entrance to the side hall in front: "Go there and wait for your number to be called. Your number is 11. When you are called, go into the second one from the left. Don't enter the wrong door. Then, no matter what happens, don't say you know me, and I won't admit that I have met you, do you understand?"

"Thank you."

Normally, the efficiency of British government agencies has never been very good, but today Jessica finally saw what it means to do better work the more money you give her. Less than two minutes after entering the side hall, the caller shouted her number loudly. Jessica carefully distinguished the row of wooden doors in front of the round, and then slowly turned the door handle.

"Please take a seat."

There were two men and one woman sitting behind the door. The expression on the aunt in the middle clearly showed that she knew she was coming. She reached out and took the loss report certificate: "Do you want to get a new citizen card and passport?"

"Yes."

Jessica adjusted her chair with a clever move.

"Jessica Miriam Drew?"

The woman took the form filled out by Jessica and read her name while typing letters on the computer: "Where were you born in London?"

"I don't remember. I was only one year old when I left England."

"What about your parents?"

"They are missing." Jessica spread her hands.

"So you don't have a birth certificate, passport, citizenship card, insurance number, or information related to proving your identity?"

"......Yes."

"Ouch, there's something wrong with this thing again." At this moment, the woman suddenly tapped the keyboard. Seeing that the screen was still showing the search for a magnifying glass, she had to turn around and call the two men behind her: "You two, don't chat. Now, I'm afraid we'll have to go the old fashioned way and find her parents' names, Jonathan Drew and Miriam Drew."

"Oh hell, I hate this job."

The men complained, and then began to look through the thick layer of notebooks on the table. Surprisingly, the aunt didn't ask any more questions, but stood up to help look through the pages of the book. A full ten minutes passed, and Jessica saw the computer screen reacting, and said softly: "Well, the computer seems to have recovered."

"Thank God! The search was successful!"

The aunt walked back quickly, grabbed the mouse, and the long list of names on the screen started to scroll: "Let me see... Oh, there are quite a few with the same name. You really don't remember where you were born. Which London borough?"

"let me see."

Jessica looked at the ceiling, trying hard to search through the memory fragments, and after a long time she said: "Adjacent to the Thames?"

"There are so many places close to the Thames, think again."

The aunt rolled her eyes when she heard this, but she still used the mouse to click on some filter items. However, the computer jammed again, causing her to make a thick guttural sound in irritation. Jessica simply closed her eyes, but this time she really couldn't remember anything, so she could only shake her head. Probably for the sake of money, the aunt didn't say anything, but turned around and planned to help. However, Jessica's luck seemed to have improved, and the computer screen returned to normal again, continuing to display a new round of filtered data.

"Jonathan...Miriam...Ah, I finally found it, it's you." After searching for another ten minutes, the aunt couldn't wait to take a form and urged Jessica to fill it out. information, and then took out several documents for her to sign, and then stamped them: "Your birthplace is in South Bank, the one across the river from the government district. Does Big Ben know? From below Just cross the bridge, you need to take these documents to the local branch, and I will write you the address and phone number."