Mr. Landlord [Comprehensive Yingmei]

Regarding practice, Wu Cong, a teacher who can only solve problems but not teach, doesn’t talk about it. Dansha, a young teacher, still has obstacles in language translation, and Hotch, a student, is actually not that distracted. , so by the time he really sensed the air of heaven and earth floating in the void and was able to use it for himself, the heavy snow outside the window could already cover his ankles.

Winter is here.

Winter is a very good season. Everything is dormant, including those ghosts and monsters who have always been restless. Dozing lazily on Hotch's lap.

Whenever you walk into Hotch's office, there is a [-]% probability that you will see the little white ball lying on his lap, squinting his eyes and curling up, not moving easily, even Garcia's love alfalfa biscuits Can't get his attention.

This is of course good or bad.

He looks like a rabbit, but he is not a real rabbit. In the early days, the mainstream of Ji's recipes was the dragon dragon.

In Hotch's eyes, Wu Cong seemed to have calmed down all of a sudden, not caring what form he was in at all, and it seemed quite comfortable to shake his little tail from time to time.

Hotch put his hands on his legs and stroked the long hair of Xiaotuanzi. The tentacles were as soft as the first winter snow, as if they would turn into spring water if they didn't pay attention.

Wu Cong casually relaxed his body, allowing the hands on his body to touch casually, his tail stretched and stretched to wrap around Hotch's wrist, the white fluffy tail ball shaking to show the master's good mood.

He was also forced to be calm. The person Song Xia was looking for said he was about to die, but when he really went to see it, he was still alive and kicking and harming the world. What the gods called about to be and what Wu Cong called about was about to die. concept.

The so-called time traveler, since he doesn't even belong to the Heavenly Dao, his name is naturally not listed in the book of life and death in the underworld, and Song Xia, who is as advanced as Song Xia, can only tell that the end of life is approaching, and when will he die...

For a god like him, there is not much difference between one year and ten years, and there is no conflict between soon and three months and still alive. Seeing that his posture is sure and stable, he is really not in a hurry.

Correspondingly, Wu Cong has also evolved from being a little impatient at the beginning, so that he wanted to do it directly without waiting for others to die naturally, to the point where he fully enjoys the fun brought by his small body and can enjoy himself.

——If he regains his human form, getting in and out of Hotch's office will undoubtedly be impossible, sharing the same bed will be very awkward, and this kind of touching that makes people want to collapse into a ball is definitely not a second thought, even if Even if the distance restriction is still in place, they can't get along as naturally as they do now in a short time.

Wu Cong actually likes the rhythm of forcibly binding each other every day and knowing the other person's life like the back of his hand.

Yes, he really wasn't in a hurry.

The old zongzi who was not in a hurry jumped on the table for the 370th time and patted the glass frame on Hotch's table, the appearance of the target person gradually appeared in the rippling glass.

Well, I'm really not in a hurry.

While flipping through the documents, Hotch looked up at Wu Cong who was squatting seriously in front of the glass, pretending not to see the fur ball tail wrapped around his wrist that he refused to let go.

Soon, the figure on the glass caught his attention: "This is—" The familiar face awakened some memories, "Lawrence Lambert?"

"That's him." Wu Cong said, "You know him?"

"I've run into him on cases before," recalls Hotch, "and he's a very difficult character."

It was an unsolved case that has not yet been concluded. Several seemingly unconnected people were killed in succession. The only connection point was Lambert. His growth experience almost fits all the profiles of BAU. He ran away from home, was bullied at school and encountered obscene incidents many times, and has been living in an extremely violent environment. His father died when he was 15 years old. He worked and studied and finished college on a scholarship, studying law and economics, and then in Las Vegas. Si started from the bottom, and step by step became a pivotal figure in the entire Las Vegas.

He is indifferent, lacks emotion, and has an extremely crazy side under the restrained appearance, showing an almost terrifying desire to control.

He's one of the best Dom's in a particular circle in Las Vegas.

The victims, all of whom had romantic relationships with him, died of extreme sexual abuse.

By the way, they are all men, and they are all young and strong men who are diligent in fitness.

Later, that case was settled, and there were many high-ranking people in Lambert's circle. BAU's investigation had already involved the side they least wanted to be known. Soon BAU was transferred to investigate other cases, and this case also It was gradually submerged in the years.

"He's dying." Wu Cong said, through the glass he could clearly see the dead air between the brows of the indifferent man, it was so thick that he could see the dead air even through the glass, showing that The man's life was coming to an end.

Maybe it's tomorrow, maybe in a few days, or at most not more than a month, this person will die completely.

"He looks healthy," Hotch said. "Accident or murder?"

"Sick." Wu Cong replied, "His body looks healthy now, but in fact it has completely collapsed inside, just like those 90-[-]-year-old old people, who will die at any time due to the decline of body functions."

Even if it is just a cold, it is as terrible and incurable as cancer for this man, because his body can no longer bear the stimulation of any drugs.

Even the means of the gods could not save his life.

The person who was listening to music and reading a book in the glass suddenly vibrated and lit up his phone on the table. This man over forty years old still maintains the appearance and figure of a young man, except for a man with a little frost on his temples. Picking up the phone and looking at it, the stretched eyebrows frowned, put down the phone, got up, put on a coat, picked up the crutch by the table and went out.

Before going out, he seemed to have sensed a peep from nowhere, and raised his eyes to look in a certain direction, his eyes were as sharp as knives.

Wu Cong accepted the look through the glass without changing his expression. As soon as the furball ball's tail was exerted forcefully, the whole ball bounced up and landed in Hotch's hand.

Winter is here, and it’s time to recuperate. He just gets sleepy from time to time. The cinnabar at home has entered a hibernation state early. The whole snake is coiled up and nestled in a warm quilt. Changing her quilt would only wake her up for a few hours at most, and she fell asleep again in a blink of an eye.

The hair balls at hand are not too much of a hindrance, on the contrary, the soft long hairs also have a good thermal effect, so even if Wu Cong has no body temperature at all, it can still make people feel very warm.

Very good, one more benefit of not returning to human form has been added.

Hotch buried himself in his work, it was very quiet today, and there were no unexpected cases to disturb his copywriting work, so he successfully finished the closing report of the last case and other materials that needed to be handed in, and took a look at the door before leaving work A certain group of human-shaped mist that was persistently trying to break in, sighed, opened the door and let it in.

He can now vaguely see those special existences, whether ghosts or demons, they are everywhere in the office building, especially in the elevators, toilets, and stairwells where there are few people. You will think that you have broken into some kind of factory by mistake, and you can't see anything clearly when you look around in the fog.

According to Wu Cong, these misty human-shaped existences are all souls who have obsessions before death and cannot enter the cycle of reincarnation. In fact, there is only one soul in a million that can truly become a ghost, and most of them are like these souls in the world. Floating around, all memories and obsessions were gradually wiped away, and then re-entered the samsara.

Maybe this soul who has always wanted to stay in Hotch's office worked here before his death, or there are some unforgettable memories here, so he is so obsessed with entering this office, and at the same time is so obsessed with keeping the people in this office. Get out.

The coldness that Hotch felt from time to time in the office before was not caused by the ventilation through the windows or his own illusion, but by this soul, but he was too weak to exert any effective influence on human beings.

On the way home from get off work, Wu Cong mentioned to Hotch the deal he had with Song Xia. He couldn't be too far away from Hotch now, and if he wanted to go to Las Vegas, he had to seek the consent of his supervisor first.

Today is Wednesday, and Hotch counted the days and promised him to go to Las Vegas after get off work on Friday. Wu Cong had to see it with his own eyes to know how long Lambert could live, so he could make arrangements for the future.

As soon as I entered the apartment, I saw a red giant python lying in the living room, motionless and stiff as if it was dead. The food on the table had already been eaten, which meant that Dansha should have woken up once in the middle and crawled out to eat in a daze. I ate something to fill my stomach, and halfway back after eating, I couldn't hold on and fell asleep again.

Wu Cong jumped out of Hotch's bag, and together with Hotch they pushed the sleeping little girl back to the room. After touching the warm quilt, the cinnabar rolled into a ball automatically, with the favorite Mr. Xiong rolled up in the middle.

"What's for dinner?" Hotch asked as he rolled up his sleeves and walked towards the kitchen. Compared with Wu Cong's, there are more seasonings and so on, and it's convenient to cook with all the pots and pans.

Wu Cong thought for a while, and ordered a dish that didn't take much effort.

At this time, the cat's "meow meow" sounded outside the window. When I turned my head, I saw a civet cat with beautiful patterns squatting on the window sill in an orderly manner, and raised a paw to gently tap on the window.

"Meow--"

Hotch recognized it. This is one of the wild cats that often doze off on the tree outside the apartment. It has a small piece missing on its left ear, and its eyes are darker than ordinary cats, tending to brown amber, very special.

Wu Cong jumped on the windowsill and opened the window, "What's the matter?"

Cihuamao paused, and then said Mimi twice: "It is true that I need your help." Its tone was a little strange, as if it was very uncomfortable to speak with a human voice.

It should be said that it is not it that is talking.