I, Sakazuki, Will Not Take a Dog Easily

【... Listening to the tone, it's impossible! Absolutely impossible! It should just be similar, right?】 Robin shook his head and made a conclusion in his heart.

Not to mention that Sakalski himself should still be sitting on the Sky Fortress-Megatron, just looking at the funny and out-of-the-ordinary appearance of this chubby paper in front of her, she couldn't think of that guy who was stretched all day long. On the dead-faced stinking guy.

She has been with Sakalski for 21 years, and she knows this poor and fastidious "face man" who is willing to leave only by taking a warship.

And this fat man who twirls and jumps all the way and plays tricks in public has no shame at all, as if he has let himself go.

Seeing that the fat man was quickly picking and pulling the potato chips in the bag, he reached out his palm covered with oil stains and potato chip fragments, and unscrewed the Coke. After taking several sips, he let out a loud long belch, Robin The absurd thoughts that had been inexplicably generated before were completely dispelled from the bottom of my heart.

How could such an old-fashioned and serious muscular brother allow his image to collapse to this point?

This is completely unimaginable to her.

Lu Qi, who was walking side by side with Robin, naturally noticed her abruptly stagnating pace. The King of Assassins didn't look sideways, and only from the slightly squirming lips could he glimpse some signs of his words: "What's wrong?"

She smiled helplessly, and strode towards the naval station:

"It's okay, I'm a little nervous because of the recent series of events."

477. Hydra's Bite (Part 1)

With great difficulty, the fat, greasy man managed to squeeze out of the noisy crowd by virtue of his tall belly and tonnage.

He raised his head and poured the remaining potato chip residue into his mouth, then pushed the door and walked into the tea shop.

During this process, there were still a lot of finely divided seasoning powders and crumbs that were sprinkled on the clothes by this greedy guy.

This is a large-scale beverage store, and because it is adjacent to the largest casino in the city, Rainland, the business is also very good.

The store is divided into upper and lower floors. Although the decoration is not as resplendent and resplendent as the adjacent casino, it still has a sense of elegance and generosity.

The storefront on the first floor has a bar-like atmosphere. As the main color of the storefront, the warm and mellow paint surface like milk coffee seems to cover most of the interior buildings, tables and chairs.

Sofas for one person or high tables and chairs are placed in the corresponding positions seemingly randomly, but it makes people feel a relaxed and undisciplined atmosphere created by the environment when entering the store.

Just like the style that this beverage store strives to create, its choices are still diverse.

From the wide variety of drinks listed, to the free choice of private rooms and private rooms, customers who come here to consume are given the right to make their own choices.

"Hi sir, it's a pleasure to serve you."

With a gentle smile on the corner of his mouth, the little brother in the store received this fat man who looked a little casual and sloppy.

"Do you have any vacant boxes? I just got out of the crowd outside, I really don't want to be crowded anymore." The fat man shrugged in distress, and pointed his back at the endless stream of people outside the shop behind him, with a deeply hurt expression. appearance.

As a clerk who works here every day, the little brother in a neat waiter suit has obviously experienced a similar experience, and he nodded deeply.

Immediately, he took another peek at the overly plump figure of the customer, presumably because he suffered a lot in the endless crowd.

Quite sympathetic, this reason is more and more reasonable.

"Of course, please go to Box 17." The clerk bowed slightly and raised his left arm to point the customer in the right direction: "Before that, what drink do you want?"

The fat man, whose body was getting closer to the penguin, staggered, his upper body slightly tilted towards the position of the shop assistant.

This happy fat man with a hamster-shaped orange-red pajamas on his head also showed a kind but naive smile on his face: "Does this store sell apa tea?"

This young clerk was plain-looking and belonged to the type that could not be found in the crowd. When he heard the name of this weird drink, a gleam flashed in his eyes.

The clerk’s expression remained unchanged, and he confirmed the receipt of the secret message and replied: “We don’t sell a drink named [Apa Tea], but I recommend you to taste our specialty [Oolong Tea].

"

Even though he didn't get the drink he wanted, the harmless Han Bao never showed any dissatisfaction. Instead, he nodded politely and politely to the clerk and said, "Okay, listen to you ~ Yo ~"

The clerk's smile became more modest, and he once again bowed to this long-awaited mysterious figure:

"Then please wait a moment, we will deliver the drink to your box after the drink is finished."

The joint was initially successful, and the fat man who was struggling to walk was immediately settled in the box numbered 17.

He casually wiped off the sweat that oozed from his forehead under the scorching sun, leaned his head on the soft cushion on his back, half-lyed his fat body that seemed to be leaking oil, and sat slumped on the sofa. .

He looked at this private and quiet small room, and the rather avant-garde rotating floor lamp illuminated the claustrophobic space.

Slowly closing his eyes, when the fat man opened them the next second, the surrounding scene had already changed drastically.

He still maintained Ge You's lazy and half-lying posture, but he sat on a water bed that was bigger than the previous sofa.

At regular intervals, the fixed candlesticks and oil paintings on the walls make this 80-square-meter room more spacious than its actual size.

And in front of him, stood a young man wearing a spotted white velvet cap.

The person's right arm has not yet been withdrawn, with the palm facing inward, and a letter is tattooed on each of the knuckles of the five fingers. If you pay attention, you can find that it is the word DEATH that is put together.

"Room Slaughterhouse." Until this time, the main member of [Hydra] casually reported the name of the move he had previously performed.

Trafalgar Law looked at the fat man in front of him with extremely weird eyes, and he couldn't forget to click his tongue in wonder: "I really didn't expect you to arrive in Alabasta in advance. To be honest, if it wasn't for the secret signal to connect you , I couldn't believe my eyes."

"Details determine success or failure, and you have demonstrated a textbook-like camouflage to us." The Hydra agent who was convinced by this couldn't help but praise: "Mr. Lindemann always said that his espionage skills were brought out by you. Yes, this time I saw it with my own eyes, and I completely believed it."

Because they are in the [Hydra] elite doctor team directly under the headquarters. Although they are military doctors on the surface, these doctors secretly carry out assassinations, infiltrations, and lurking more times than legion assassins.

Thanks to the careful guidance of Lindeman, the ace spy, and his rich practical experience in the past few years, although Trafalgar Law dare not claim to be the best in the navy in hiding behind enemy lines, he is still one of the best.

But as professional as he is, it is difficult to see the flaws from the various details exposed by this fat man.

The close-fitting clothing was soaked with sweat, and some cola stains were spotted on the slightly yellowed fabric.

This house-style hoodie and pajamas are clean, but still a bit dated.

Trafalgar Law, who pays attention to details, unremittingly unearthed the information conveyed by these characteristics, and began to tentatively deduce and draw conclusions about the identity of this fat man:

"Coke and potato chips are obvious props with suggestive features, combined with the details displayed on the clothes, it is easy to be subconsciously replaced by the subconscious into that kind of idle role under the solidified thinking and empiricism of outsiders.

There seemed to be some small potato chip crumbs scattered on the neck, which should have been accidentally spilled when the head was tilted up, showing the person's carelessness and a little bit of stinginess... perhaps because of his greed for food.

This can also be further corroborated from the clothes. Dirty, casual, yellowed and old clothes, either the owner of the clothes doesn’t care about going out or dressing up at home, or the owner of the clothes is unwilling to spend more money on them.

The beard that has not been trimmed for a long time, the greasy skin, and the fat belly are constantly strengthening the "information of preliminary judgment" in the subconscious of the bystanders.

I can even smell a slight smell of heather from the pants near the belt area, which is not only visual, but also another identification channel.

But the addition of two or two has already led to deep misleading.

If I didn't know your real identity, I would think that you are an authentic civilian who is content with your duties and even stays at home..."

Seeing that the young man was turning his lips faster and faster, talking faster, and still had an expression of unfinished expression, the fat man who had never spoken since entering this room couldn't help but interrupted: