The King of Rebirth in the End Times

The morning sun slanted on the street, and there were many young people exercising in the park beside it. A few gray-haired old men were walking and chatting on the road. The park path for walking was paved with colorful pebbles. It was polished extremely smooth, and the sunlight refracted a soft halo on it.

The environment of France is naturally permeated with a leisurely atmosphere, and the residents of this country walk in their own rhythm of life without any haste, with a slow and vigorous rhythm.There are also many rose trees planted in the bushes. These romantic rose trees have a few shy buds growing on them, and the crystal dew is the best decoration for the flowers and plants.

The window in the coffee shop is facing the park. The man with short blonde hair on the seat put down the Paris morning newspaper he just finished reading, and his eyes casually stayed in the park on the side of the road. He could feel the unique atmosphere of France through a layer of glass windows.

The well-tailored black suit was not so rigorously dressed, and the neckline was opened with one or two buttons for ventilation. The man occasionally picked up the steaming white porcelain cup and took a sip. The lips give people a smile like a spring breeze.

His every move is gentle and elegant, and a discerning eye can tell that he has the charm of an Italian gentleman, and he is very likely to be a noble son from a wealthy family.

The incomparably mellow latte was still as bitter as ever, but it was the best refreshing drink. His blue eyes were as calm as a lake, and he could no longer see the tiredness of staying up late for several days.

His radiant appearance made him look nothing like someone who flew from Italy in the early morning. Only his personal bodyguards knew that this noble gentleman also used makeup to cover up dark circles, which was skillful It made the bodyguards suspect that the Italian nobles cared so much about their image.

The brisk and distant music spread in the park, and some passers-by stopped to listen to the tune, which sounded a little weird to the French ears. The world of music knows no borders, and as long as it is pleasant and melodious, it is worthy of praise.

The man sitting on the flower bed holds a cute gourd-shaped musical instrument and puts it to his mouth. On the round yellow gourd, there is a childlike painting of a beauty dancing with a sword.The man's slender fingers pressed against the hole of the instrument from time to time, and the brisk rhythm danced on his fingertips. The music sound similar to the oriental flute did not have the ethereal spirit far away from the world, but had the fullness and appeal of being in the world.

He also wore a white knit sweater under the gray long-sleeved windbreaker jacket, and a large casual hood was worn on his head, covering most of the man's face when it hung down. The exposed black hair proved that he was an oriental man. people.

For a moment, it was as if the brain seemed to be stunned by a heavy object, and a mess of blurred pictures emerged in my mind, so fast that I could hardly grasp the remaining shadow, as if I had encountered a scene similar to this time, so sour and nostalgic, but as long as It must be a real pleasure to see him again.

The music that coincides with the memory unknowingly pulls the heartstrings. The dilapidated high-rise buildings are covered with cobwebs and dust. In the gloomy world, you can vaguely see the same oriental man playing the instrument quietly, even if you don’t know who the other party is at all. , the urge to reach out and hold her broke out violently.

The man with blond hair and green eyes raised his hand to press his inexplicably painful forehead, trying to forcibly record the chaotic scene, which made his brain even more dizzy and nauseated.

The taste of the coffee in his mouth stimulated his brain to wake up. Even though his face began to turn pale, he still managed to dip a little coffee with his fingers, and quickly began to draw pictures on the table, trying to leave behind those incomprehensible things.

The guards at the side suddenly became vigilant. They blocked the exit of the coffee shop without any trace, and signaled the owner of the coffee shop to watch the employees with their eyes. This coffee shop was originally owned by the blond man.The bodyguard's right hand was slowly put into his pocket, ready to draw out his weapon at any time, and one of them immediately stepped forward to check the coffee the man had drunk.

The sound of the music entered the climax of the ending, and it was found that the man in gray was about to let go of his fingers. There was a red thread tied around his neck on the gourd-shaped instrument. He helplessly faced the passer-by who paid him French currency He smiled, then got up and left.

Don't go!

The sharp color of the superior suddenly appeared in the green eyes, the blond man pushed away the useless barriers around him, and rushed towards the opposite park with big strides, causing the bodyguards beside him to be stunned in astonishment. His behavior is considered a rare faux pas in noble etiquette, but when it happens to him, it is still extraordinarily elegant.

They didn't know that they would think so... If the opponent was a simple Italian nobleman, he wouldn't be one of Su Qinglan's mortal enemies, the king of the last days who dared to sacrifice countless lives to win.

"Uh... this gentleman, who are you?"

His chin was pinched forcefully, and the man in gray looked up at him blankly and innocently. In addition to being angry, he also had a lot of fun in his heart. He has been very quiet lately. He doesn't think he can provoke a man after only a few days in France. A person with an unusual identity.In other words... what is going on with this complicated and confused look in his eyes? He was cold all over and silently decided to stay away from this blond man.

"You, not him, but why are things the same..."

Looking at the cucurbit silk on the neck of the man in gray, the blond man whose real name is Cyril murmured puzzledly, maybe even he didn't know what he was talking about.The regret in his heart was indescribable, and the man found that the tone of his words did not seem like the feelings he could have. When would he care about someone so much.

"Dude, this stuff is sold everywhere in China."

After understanding the meaning of the other party's words, the man in gray glanced at his gourd silk, and complained quite calmly in fluent French.

Xi Ruier frowned. What happened today was really weird. When he pinched the stranger's jaw, he actually hoped that this person would call out his name immediately.

Cyril...

The extremely indifferent voice seemed to be still lingering in my ears, and my heart beat unconsciously accelerated by a second.

You should spit out that cold and biting oriental language from your mouth, and there should be a faint killing intent in your eyes, don't look at me with strange eyes, don't look at me with doubts, anyone can forget me, only You can't... only you...

The memory got stuck just before thinking of the name, and Cyril was so depressed that she wanted to vomit blood, and she almost vomited blood. As long as she came up with the name, combined with some impressions of her appearance, wouldn't it be easy to use her influence to check on the person.

Looking at the blond man who left without making a sound, Yan Yan, who had come to France to find business, left the park speechlessly. He recognized the other party's accent, and he muttered to himself that Italians are stinky farts.

Suddenly, the mobile phone in his pocket vibrated, and the March of the Volunteers, which served as the notification tone of the phone, sounded in a high-pitched and atmospheric tone, which made people's ears full of energy.Pedestrians passing by the gray-clothed man were surprised. Does anyone really play this kind of music as a reminder these days?

Turning on the combination lock of the phone, what he saw was a row of strange calls from Shanghai, China. Yan Yan wondered, is there anyone who wants to talk about business when he is abroad?Anyone who knows their own number is a big customer.

"Hi, I'm Hei Qing, who are you?"

"What a nostalgic voice, Yan Yan, I hope to see you in Shanghai in a day's time."

His face froze suddenly, and someone called out his name directly. Yan Yan panicked for a second. At least after years of ups and downs, he had developed a strong nerve, so he could barely calm down and talk to people.

He has never used this name before in the smuggling industry. If the people of the Yan family find out what deeds he has done secretly, he will be finished. Thinking of the gentle expression that his elder brother might have, he couldn't help but tremble all over. for a moment.

"Hey, who are you!"

Glancing around, Yan Yan clenched the phone and walked to a hidden place to continue answering the call.

"Bring your mobile phone, you will know when you come, otherwise I will take a bunch of things in your house for myself. Of course, if you don't believe it, whether the things you put in the villas in East China and the warehouses in the suburbs of Shanghai after the 20th It still exists... I don't make any guarantees."

Speaking of a seemingly soft but sinister threat in his mouth, Su Qinglan's eyes twitched slightly as he watched worms crawl out of the instant noodle box on the table. This guy is just so lazy in the past or in the future.

Standing in the living room of Yan Yan's home, the boy stepped on various game controllers and books scattered around. Who would have thought that the villa of an ordinary otaku was the den of some transnational smuggler.

Rotating a small fruit knife with her fingers boredly, Su Qinglan inspected the smuggled weapons hidden in this room with great interest, her first official weapon to kill the enemy was also contributed by Yan Yan with a painful face. He, Su Qinglan was secretly taken aback when he found out that he was not in China. It seems that this guy had concealed some things from him back then. He met Yan Yan in the suburbs of Shanghai, and whether the other party could come back after the end of the world began. She slipped back to China within three months, and Su Qinglan had to admire the other party's perseverance.

Zombies are rampant and chaotic along the way, and the country's political system is almost collapsed. Only this guy who loves his hometown to a certain extent can complete the long march whose difficulty is comparable to 12 miles. .

Su Qinglan burst out laughing. In the last days, Yan Yan did not die in a foreign land. After they recaptured Shanghai, this injured and sick literary man took his last breath.

32...

It took you three months to walk to the suburbs of Shanghai, but it took you 32 years to really return home.

Yan Yan, my companion, now... I invite you back.