[Bungo Stray Dogs] On the Compatibility of Reaper and Black Slime

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I lived in "Crescent Moon" for two days, during which time I wandered around the stalls so many times that no one dared to come to see me.

It's a pity that it's not the "Sand Wolf". Also, as the largest business group, they must be a little vigilant.

The ammunition in the space is not enough. It is easy for me to call Mori Ogai to get a batch of new ammunition, and Mori Ogai is also happy to make money.

Because of the channel that Osamu Dazai worked hard, cheap arms from Italy were continuously sent to Yokohama, and Yokohama was under the control of the port mafia. The small organizations were honest and had little chance to fire.

First let the small gang with the courage to come forward, and the "Crescent Moon" that I settled down with have a little sweetness, and then spread the news that I have more goods in my hand. After the "Sand Wolf" as a local snake is determined to be profitable, it is impossible sit idly by.

Criminal organizations in desert areas are more greedy than those in peaceful areas, even if they may be traps.

People cannot stand temptation, especially interest.

This is what Osamu Dazai taught me after destroying two organizations with a gem worth tens of millions.

Why were the two organizations destroyed because of the traps and traps that outsiders could see through at a glance.

I really, really tried my best not to think about Osamu Dazai, but the human brain is like this, trying desperately not to think about anything, and in the process of emphasizing it, I will think more and more.

I was greatly influenced by Osamu Dazai.

There used to be a saying in the world in Yokohama that "necromancers" were lunatics taught by Osamu Dazai, and they were bloody and filthy knives of the port mafia.

Although my fighting and other methods are learned from many other people, my strategies and handling methods are all forged by Osamu Dazai.

I thought of him again... I wiped "Xue Ji" with a clean cloth, my face was expressionless, forget it, no matter how I think about it, when I return to Yokohama, I won't see him at home... .should.

A thin, but unmistakably beautiful female slave came in with fruit.

The slave culture in the desert is what I can't bear the most. Although I don't feel uncomfortable accepting other people's service, what disgusts me is their eyes.

Numb, not like a living person, more sluggish than the puppets I manipulated, so obedient, it makes people think that they are people wearing the same human shell as themselves, but dogs, or something else.

After I mentioned that I hated the eyes of slaves, Crescent Moon's second-in-command asked his subordinates to goug out the eyes of a slave and let her serve me.

He laughed out loud, looking at the slave who lost his eyes and didn't even dare to howl, showing his ugly face, and then wanted to see the unbearable from my face.

I took a sip of the tea I brought, and told Yueya's second-in-command that I simply hated my things being touched by such slaves, and I couldn't stand them being so close to me.

Before I have the ability to improve their living environment, any care and tenderness are what the wolves and tigers are willing to see, the so-called weakness that I can make fun of.

Without intolerance, without sympathy and tenderness, all the tenderness and concern I showed would be a disaster to slaves.

"Put it there." I said coldly, playing with an umbrella in my hand, which should never appear in a city in the desert.

He put it in my space and came here.

Except for the poisoned water on the first day, I never ate any crescent moon food, but they still delivered it persistently.

As if I could sense my kindness to the slaves after I accepted the food.

This is how people in the desert look at outsiders.

"The leader of Sand Wolf wants to talk to you about the business you mentioned." Crescent Moon's second-in-command walked into my room, and the bearded man bowed his head.

"Sand wolf? How many of them are there?" I stroked the patterns on the umbrella. This is a transparent umbrella with white patterns on it.

It was given to me by Osamu Dazai, no, more precisely, it was given by the manager of the restaurant when we were caught in heavy rain once.

In that heavy rain, we hurried past under the bus platform with umbrellas, saying that we would never grow taller if we opened umbrellas under the shelter.

Osamu Dazai said that Zhongyuan Chu must have done this a lot. I said that Dazai would stand under the platform for a while, so that I would be taller than him.

Osamu Dazai asked depressedly why I was taller than him, and I said it was because I wanted to hold him in my arms.

"It's like hugging a cat."

"Qianli really likes cats more than me." Osamu Dazai said aloud, catching the rainwater behind his back with his hands, and wet my neckline mischievously.

Why didn't I throw this umbrella away?How did it accidentally get mixed into the space?

I looked at the second in command blankly, waiting for his reply.

"It meets your requirements." The second in command was respectful, and seemed to be a loyal and honest man of action.

"Then lead the way." I got up from the sofa, and Philip and the translator also got up from the chairs in the corner of the room.

"Are they going too?" asked the second in command.

These two supernatural beings have never spoken a word, and they have been following behind me expressionlessly, which aroused a lot of suspicion.

Because I am too lazy to waste the space in the narrow aisle with the food I have eaten, it is thrown outside, and I also sleep in the narrow aisle at night, so it is not a secret that I or one of the followers have space abilities.

"Ah."

After getting my reply, the second-in-command didn't say anything, he asked me to sit in the co-pilot, and then let the two supernatural beings sit in the back seat.

"Your entourage doesn't seem to like to talk?" In the car, the second in command asked.

"They don't speak French." The Central Asian country where I live uses French as the national language due to colonial reasons.

I took an umbrella and twisted its strap. This strap is plastic and very long. It takes two turns to wrap the umbrella.

The second in command smiled awkwardly, and then drove.

The car is twisted and twisted in the dilapidated city.

The second-in-command brought us to an abandoned warehouse. I looked at the dirty ground, hesitated, stepped on it, pulled off the belt of the umbrella, and propped him away.

Several machine guns were set up from the second floor. The moment I stepped in, the machine guns fired, and the blood of the second leader who was walking in front spattered all over the umbrella.

The blood of the demon red streaked along the lines of the umbrella, mixed into a blood stream, and dripped to the ground.

Obscuring the view of the people on the second floor, the translator behind me turned into An Bude, covered by a silver shield under the umbrella.

Bullet casings jingled and fell to the ground, and the sound of the machine gun was deafening.

It's a good thing I didn't throw the umbrella, or I should have thrown the clothes.

I quite like this beige trench coat.

Some clothes, worn for a long time, can't compare with any big name.

The second leader fell to the ground in tatters like a broken doll. The sound of applause came from the empty square, and the clear applause echoed.

I raised my head and looked at the people on the second floor.

At this time, the umbrella was still dripping with blood, so I lifted it directly behind me and tilted it so that the fragmented blood droplets could flow to the ground better.

"Sand wolf?" I said softly, it was a declarative sentence.

"You seem to have known what you will encounter when you step into this place." The bearded man with Arabian characteristics looked down at me and my umbrella, and his tone was full of interest: "It's really interesting, you also brought Umbrella, that’s the name, right, it doesn’t rain here, I haven’t seen it for a long time.”

"Blood will stain clothes." I tilted my head: "Is this the sincerity of your cooperation with me, Mr. Liao Kasha?"

"Is this your investigation? Boy from East Asia." Liao Kasha jumped down from a height of more than five meters in high spirits.

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The author has something to say:

The slaughterer was in Yokohama, and he jumped up and down after being hunted down by the Supernatural Secret Service and the port mafia, and he had to run around in Qianli's heart, which was exhausting.

The Central Asia written in the article is a fabrication and has nothing to do with reality!

There may really be such a dark place in the world, but luckily we were born in China.

To be honest, before the Myanmar incident broke out, I thought that kind of life was in novels, or decades ago. I couldn't imagine that so many people were suffering when I was holding my mobile phone and laughing.

Don't trust others easily!No penny is easy to earn!