Bionic Era

In his previous life, Lu Wen hated traveling during the morning rush hour the most.

The same is true in this life.

He was stuck in the 14th District and the road to the 15th District, which was the road with the best road condition according to the system analysis.

There is still some way to the 16th arrondissement.

"I hope I can catch up."

...

Sixteenth district.

Life in the slums was the same as ever.

In the worst places, children play in the garbage, trying to find something interesting with their dirty little hands.

In better places, there are rows of one-story houses, and occasionally there are two or three wisps of cooking smoke.

The world doesn't change because of someone's death.

The rich stay rich.

The poor perpetuate poverty...and, of course, cannot perpetuate without offspring.

"Why didn't you go out today? Those people are all dead?" Duan Tiannan sat on the old sofa.

I wanted to have a bottle of beer to wake up and drowsy, but Duan Hongye forcefully snatched it away.

Lying on the sofa now, the boredom of this middle-aged man is almost etched on his face.

Even the heroes of the western on TV couldn't cheer him up.

"One more."

Duan Hongye's calm voice came from the small kitchen full of oil.

There were several other voices in the kitchen.

Gas stove, crock pots, spoons, pots and bowls.

"You have to eat in the morning, that's what you told me, go to the kitchen to get the bowl by yourself."

She walked into the living room with a pot of mung bean porridge and put it on the coffee table.

No dining table, this small living room is everything.

"It's more refined than when I was young." Duan Tiannan muttered, got up and walked into the kitchen.

The scent of mung bean porridge is very light, wafting in this bungalow.

Sitting on the sofa, drinking mung bean porridge side by side.

The television is still filled with those boring westerns with impressive picture quality.

Neither of them spoke.

It's been a long time, or maybe it's just been a while.

Duan Hongye put the empty bowl on the coffee table, and calmly looked at the middle-aged man who was still drinking porridge.

"Actually, I've always had a question."

"Wait until I finish the porridge."

Duan Tiannan's voice was also very calm.

He drank very slowly, unlike his usual style of drinking heavily.

slow.

It seems that the porridge in the bowl can never be finished.

"It's very fragrant, and the cooking is getting better and better recently... I can support myself in the future."

Duan Tiannan put down the empty bowl in his hand.

The western on TV is coming to an end.

The ending this time is very special, not the traditional happy ending.

The protagonist bids farewell to his beloved one and rushes to the destined duel. Two gunshots are heard in the yellow sand. The people in the small town can't wait for that person to come back, and the villain never appears again. After many years, only a few people remember , the back of the one who disappeared into the yellow sand on a steed...

"Tell me." Duan Tiannan was very calm. In the past, he would lament the protagonist's fate and regrets.

"Do you prefer the title of Dark Night Walker or the title of King of Killers?" Duan Hongye asked.

"Kill... what?" Duan Tiannan was stunned, "What kind of bullshit title is this? Have you read too many urban novels?"

"That's what it says in the information." Duan Hongye said.

"The so-and-so king, in this slum, I can pick out twenty or thirty people with this title for you." Duan Tiannan seemed to find it hard to believe that he was called such a stupid title.

"Wen Wu No. 1, Wu Wu No. 2, you people who like to walk around in the dark, haven't you ever decided the winner?"

"This is modern times, not ancient times. Now the winner is determined to death. Who has nothing to do to squat in the corner all day and aim at their peers. The rules of killing and killing are messed up. Making money is the most important thing."

"Too."

After the matter of the title of brain damage, the topic of the two of them was slightly opened up.

"I have one more question." Duan Hongye said softly, "The last question..."

"Say it."

"Since you have already retired, why do you still want to take on that task? I know it's not because of the fifty thousand, and even five million won't be able to invite you to retire."

Duan Tiannan was silent.

Finally asked this question.

"When people are always down, who doesn't owe a few favors?"

He sighed.

Looking at the old glass window, the middle-aged man seemed to recall something from a long time ago.

"When I was young... When I was very young, I just escaped from the training camp and hid all the way to this slum. That person took me in."

"That was the first favor I owed, and the last favor I paid back."

"Later, I wanted to wash my hands and come to this place, so I could live my life easily. He found me and asked me to do one thing for him...kill the family of his rival gang."

"Those novels always like to write that the killer will have an accident in the last mission. In fact, it is very inaccurate. Many guys have retired smoothly, got married and had children, and lived a happy life. I thought so too."

"There were more than ten people in that family, and there were a few gangsters who acted with me. I was worried that their marksmanship was inaccurate. After the matter was over, I went back to check the scene."

"Their marksmanship is indeed inaccurate..." Duan Tiannan looked at Duan Hongye, "There is a little girl who was not hit critically."

"I'm done, and that's the story."

He let out a sigh of relief, habitually wanting to take a sip of beer to moisten his throat.

But there is only mung bean porridge on the table.

"Where are you going?" He looked at Duan Hongye,

"Upstairs, the way you like."

Duan Hongye spoke lightly, stood up, and threw him a gun.

Very traditional revolver.

Very emotional duel.

Whoever draws the gun first loses honor, but gains the upper hand.

If the person who drew the gun last survived, the honor and the life of the opponent belonged to him.

The roof of this bungalow has not been cleaned for many years, and weeds grow wildly under the moisture of the rain.

"Oh, if the grass keeps growing like this, our house will be gone." Duan Tiannan pulled out two weeds and threw them down, "Remember to take care of them more in the future."

Duan Hongye stood opposite him with an indifferent expression.

Both had revolvers strapped to their waists.

"Suddenly want to drink beer." Duan Tiannan scratched his head.

"Alcohol will kill you." Duan Hongye said from the opposite side.

"I don't know if I can still have a chance to drink."

Not as chilling as the old westerns.

The tension didn't rise either.

Maybe it's that common.

Duan Hongye was the first to draw the gun, and that exquisite revolver drew an elegant arc in the air.

But Duan Tiannan was faster.

This middle-aged man who likes to drink beer is incredibly fast, and in just a split second, the gun is aimed at Duan Hongye.

"Bang—bang—"

Two shots were fired.

The people in the slums were stunned for a moment, and soon returned to normal.

Gunshots are frequent in this place.

No one fell.

"Slap!"

Two revolvers were knocked into the air one after another and fell to the ground.

Both of them were a little surprised, looking at the roof of another bungalow not far away.

The muzzles of the two black holes were slowly retracting into Lu Wen's arms.

Machines can be faster than people.

He jumped between several roofs, and his powerful strength made his jumping ability far surpass that of ordinary people.

After a while, he came in front of the two of them.

"Is this the so-called love and killing?" Lu Wen wondered, "Today is a good experience."

"You dare to come alone? Where's Xia Chuluo?" Duan Hongye frowned, seeming a little displeased.

"She has something to do recently, by the way, I'm not alone, I'm a machine." Lu Wen smiled lightly, holding Duan Tiannan's shoulder.

"Come on, let's go down and drink first. I'm tired from running all the way, and I'm still a little thirsty."

...

Good night, fellow readers.

It is said that the light in the bathroom suddenly started to flicker today.

Do suspenseful authors encounter certain situations?

I obviously don't doubt it...

Thanks to book friends Zhou Zhoushang, book friend Dugu Weixin, and book friend Shiyue Changsheng for their rewards; I also thank the book friends who have always insisted on voting for recommendations. Everyone, go to bed early, and stay up late to easily encounter strange events.