Feast of villains

The clatter of a tram was heard outside the window.

Nance looked in the mirror and straightened his clothes.

A long black coat that covers the calf, suit pants with slightly tight legs, and a newsboy hat in the same color as the coat.

This outfit reminded him of the British-style gang members in "Peaky Blinders". However, his face also had a light bookishness, and he looked like a playwright in the Victorian era who specialized in exposing the painful lives of lower-class workers.

Nance shook his head, smiled, and muttered in a low voice: "The haze over Birmingham is all the smoke exhaled by the Razorbacks..."

Doraemon landed on his shoulder skillfully, patted his head with its wings, and urged him to go out quickly.

One person and one bird came out of Lesson 9, got into the nearest tram stop, and took the Tuen Mun Line to the monastery.

The display screen in the carriage plays an advertisement showing the charming and writhing female robot.

"The upgraded sex doll robot equipped with the latest bionic chip will bring you a new exciting experience. It is a paradise that the human body cannot reach. What are you still hesitating about..."

I feel like this advertisement is too vulgar.

Nance closed his eyes slightly.

[Destruction engine starts]

[Signal link successful]

[Crack the tram control system]

[Give instructions: switch signal source]

When I opened my eyes again, the picture on the screen had turned into a ballet performance.

This is what a beautiful world should have... Nance smiled slightly and concentrated on admiring the actors' graceful dancing postures and seductive body curves.

The tram swayed forward with a clang and clang, and the height of the buildings on both sides of the window continued to shrink.

On the way, a mother and daughter got on the bus and sat next to Nance. Neither of them wore expensive clothes, nor were they new, but they were very clean. The daughter was only seven or eight years old, with very cute features and big round eyes.

Yes, reaching out to catch the owl.

"Gu~"

Doraemon glanced at the drool on the little girl's mouth with disgust.

"Mom," the little girl shouted excitedly, "the fat bird is so cute!"

"Be good, don't touch other people's things." The mother held her daughter in her arms and wiped her saliva.

Nance looked towards them.

Dressed like a gangster, with an owl standing on his shoulder, he doesn't look like a serious person.

Mom was obviously a little nervous and subconsciously avoided his sight.

The little girl didn't think much, and looked at Nance with bright and innocent eyes longingly: "Uncle, can I touch it?"

"Call me brother." Nance corrected her gently.

"Oh, I see..." the little girl blinked her eyes and said in a sweet voice: "Uncle, can I touch my brother?"

"?"

Nance looked shocked.

"Goo!"

The owl laughed unceremoniously and slapped him on the head with its wing.

The tram happened to stop at this time. Nance leaned his shoulder over and said to the little girl with some revengeful thoughts: "Touch it as you like. If you don't feel satisfied, just pull off a handful of its feathers."

"Gu?"

Doraemon trembled with fright.

The daughter reached out her hand with excitement, but her mother picked her up and said, "We've arrived at the station," and then hurriedly walked out of the car door.

Nance watched them leave.

Erduo was finally able to capture the conversation between the mother and daughter, which was the mother's lessons to her daughter such as "That's a familiar", "Be careful he hurts you", "Keep away from me in the future, you know?".

The daughter lay on her mother's shoulder and glanced at Nance.

There was a strange light in those eyes, which seemed to be doubtful, unbelievable, and reluctant to let go of the fat bird.

"How can you not go crazy after being discriminated against like this all year round..." Nance smiled bitterly.

"Gu~"

Doraemon raised his wings and patted Nance's head comfortingly.

Nance grabbed it with his backhand and stroked it.

One thing to say, Miss Owl feels great in the hand, especially when you look at the expression on her face that resists nausea, it makes you feel even better when you stroke her.

The tram stopped at Tuen Mun Station half an hour later. Nance got off the tram and walked through the town with an owl on his head.

It is a very deserted and run-down place with very few serious people on the streets. You can only see scattered young people smoking and taking drugs on the streets.

When these people saw Nance approaching, they obviously cast malicious glances, probably wanting to get some profit from him. But they were also a very smart group of gangsters, judging from Nance's dress and physique.

Afterwards, he angrily retracted his malice.

Nance climbed up the long mountain path and entered the monastery square. He saw several pointed icicles hanging from the rain curtain at the church door.

At this time, the snow was drifting down with the wind again. The nearby mountains and forests, rooftops, roads and tree branches were all covered with snow, which looked like a gray and white ink painting.

"When will spring..." He took a deep breath.

The air was much colder than expected, and my internal organs felt like they were instantly filled with ice water.

It was a winter morning with dark clouds and dim sunlight. The sunlight barely penetrated the clouds and was already chipped into powder. The light in the church was dim, and the flames of the heating furnace glowed redly to illuminate the outline of the statue of the god.

Ms. Lena, wearing a nun's uniform, was sitting on the bench.

She stared at the statue, thinking about something, and a slight smile appeared at the corner of her mouth from time to time.

"What are you thinking about?" Nance walked in.

Sister Lena turned her head back in surprise, her sky-blue eyes facing him, and her blond hair swaying under the scarf looked like an autumn field.

Seeing this gentle and sweet oval face, Nance's little depression suddenly disappeared.

Is this the gentle therapy of the Purity Sisters?

It is indeed very powerful.

Nance was looking forward to the day when he could rest on her knees and let her teach him. That would definitely be the second happiest experience in the world - the first was being stepped on by the Queen with her cute little feet.

"I was just thinking, what would you ask? What should I say to you." Sister Reina said to Nance in a cheerful tone.

"Want to go to the confessional?" Nance asked.

"No, that seems too formal, doesn't it?" Sister Reina patted the empty seat next to her, "Come and sit here, my child."

Doraemon looked at the nun carefully.

She has a face that looks very friendly, her appearance is elegant and intelligent, and there is always a faint smile like a shadow on the corner of her lips. Her eyes are as beautiful as sapphires, and her clear eyes are full of warmth all the time.

.

"Gu~"

It barked.

As soon as Nance sat on the bench, he immediately got into the nun's arms.

"Ah, so cute." Sister Lena's white and tender fingertips gently rubbed the owl's little head, looking sideways at Nance: "Where did this little guy come from? Does it have a name?"

"I picked it up on the way, and it's called Doraemon." Nance replied.

"Doragu? What a strange name. But it sounds nice..."

Sister Lena laughed.

That smile reminded Miss Owl of the eagle that had not been picked up by the Queen. It had not gained weight at that time and lived in the forest. It loved to take a nap on the treetops where the sun could shine. The smile of the nun in front of her was just like that.

It reminds it of the sunlight leaking through the dense leaves, a kind of warm sunlight that can dispel darkness and cold.

"Gugu~"

Doraemon showed off his cuteness in her arms unscrupulously.

"On the way here just now, I encountered something that made me a little unhappy..." Nance moved his butt, leaned closer, and talked about the mother and daughter he met on the tram.

Sister Lena tilted her head gently and submissively to listen.

The distance between the two was so close, her beautiful blond hair almost touched his shoulder.