Life Copy Game

Chapter 1143 The Mayor of Mingte City (asking for monthly votes)

"Tch, cold guy."

Watching the roaring motorcycle leave without stopping, Lockett sneered.

The falling snow fell on his shoulders and the tips of his hair.

The cold wind blew across his face, causing him to shiver subconsciously. The bone-chilling chill made his body, which was already not very responsive, even more rigid.

He suddenly realized that the man had been standing in the wind, blocking the cold wind for him.

His expression calmed down.

He lowered his head and looked at the wallet he had thrown out on the ground, and saw cards scattered out of the wallet.

He stared at the wallet and the beautiful and delicate cards.

He slowly stretched out his hand, hunched over, climbed to the wallet, held the wallet, and gathered up the scattered exquisite cards.

The howling cold wind and snow became more and more urgent, making him feel the bone-chilling cold.

He held the cards in his hand that were getting colder and colder, raised his head, and his eyes finally fell on the shack next to him.

He has been beside this shack. Just now, 'Sote' fought with Denok and deliberately pushed Denok away without affecting him.

This allowed this low and simple shack to be preserved.

"Poor guy, I'm taking advantage of you."

He muttered, holding the cards and staggeringly trying to stand up.

He tried twice without success.

On the third time, he gritted his teeth, finally stood up, and squeezed towards the broken iron door of the shack.

The iron door was unlocked and he knocked it open easily.

He staggered into the room and looked up in all directions.

This room is not wide, only two or three meters in width and length. It is generally square and surrounded by simple walls made of iron sheets.

It was no warmer inside than outside. The roof of the shack had long been cracked, and a few snowflakes fell from the gap.

The cold wind squeezed in through the gaps in the iron sheet, blowing the plastic paper on the wall and making a snapping sound.

Lockett raised his head and looked at the plastic paper 'flyers' stained on the wall.

Those leaflets were more or less stained and seemed to have been used to wrap food.

In the center of the flyer, the high-spirited 'mayor' was standing by the stove, looking ahead with a smile.

Next to it is his campaign manifesto, which is to let every citizen of Mingte wear warm clothes, use a stove, and live a warm winter.

These leaflets were densely glued to the iron walls, trying to block the ventilation gaps.

But in the end, they were blown away by the cold wind and swayed feebly in the wind.

Lockett shook his body and looked at the densely packed leaflets and the high-spirited 'Mayor of Minter City' on the leaflets.

He pulled at his cheek, as if trying to make an expression, but in the end nothing came out.

He staggered forward and passed the middle of the house.

There was an old electric stove, unplugged.

It seems that it can no longer be used, and it seems that it cannot afford electricity.

Finally, he walked behind the stove and sat down staggeringly.

Beside him was a dirty cushion, on which sat a man with a stiff face and a smile.

Densely packed dirty plastic bags were scattered around the mat, and the food in some plastic bags had not yet been eaten. Even in the cold winter, there was still a slight smell of decay lingering around.

A huge gap opened just above this mat.

Sitting nearby and looking up, you can see the dark sky mixed with neon lights and the snowflakes dancing between the lights.

Lockett stretched out his hand, and a snowflake fell from the roof and fell into his palm. He wanted to catch the white snowflake, but in the end, he only saw the snow slowly melting in his palm.

He lowered his head and looked at the 'owner' who was stiff beside him.

The smile of the 'house owner' was very warm. He seemed to feel the ultimate warmth of life at the last moment before death.

He could feel some twisted evil spirits gestating in the body of the owner of the house.

The owner of the house has been dead for too long without being discovered, and his body is undergoing alienation.

It stands to reason that the scavengers should discover all this and clean up these dead people.

Diffuse thoughts flickered in Lockett's cloudy mind.

oh.

He suddenly remembered.

He thought it was too expensive to hire scavengers, so he cut the scavengers' budget in half.

Where did the money saved go?

He used it to repair the Plaza Mayor and the statue, then used the engineering company to make white gloves and put them in his pocket.

Lockett looked down at the golden cards in his hand, feeling that his brain was becoming dull.

He is going to die.

He reached out to touch the wrist of the 'house owner' next to him, only to touch a cold bracelet with half of the screen off and long out of power.

He retracted his hand, raised his bracelet, and dialed the scavenger's number according to his vague memory.

Some bells rang in the empty room.

After a short but long wait, a voice full of fatigue and impatience rang out, "Scavenger, what's the matter?"

He didn't look at the dialed phone number and didn't seem to care who it belonged to.

"There is a body here at No. 227, North First Avenue."

A hoarse voice sounded in the empty room.

"Corpses? How many?"

the impatient voice on the phone asked quickly.

The room was quiet for a while until snowflakes fell from the cracks in the roof.

"Two."

The hoarse voice sounded again.

"Okay, there are 72 corpses in front of you. They will probably wait until tomorrow afternoon. If you can, just wait. If you don't have money, just find some snow piles to make a living to prevent corruption. If you have money, you can find a crematorium to burn them. "

The person on the other side spoke very quickly, and hung up the phone before he could even finish the words.

Silent silence accompanied by a sharp busy tone echoed in the quiet space.

Amid the trembling busy tone, Lockett lowered his head and took out the cards from his wallet one by one.

Cards containing gold and gems and embossed with various noble patterns and portraits were piled up in his hands.

Turning to the end, a photo card appeared in his hand.

In this photo, an old man covered in blood is standing behind a podium with a white jasmine emblem, and the remains of the burning sky beast become the background supporting the old man's figure.

The old man stared outside the photo, his eyes deep and thoughtful.

Lockett looked at the photo and the densely packed delicate cards in his hand.

"Hehe, hehe, hehehe."

He lifted them up and threw them suddenly.

Gold and gems spread out in the sky, mixed in the white snow, and danced gracefully.

They fell in shabby crevices, on dirty cushions, in rotten food, on blood-stained clothes and cold corpses.

The lightest photo card finally fell down and landed between Lockett's eyes that had lost focus.

A slight cold wind blew from outside the house, flipping the photo over and covering half of Lockett's eyes.

The fluttering snowflakes fell on the back of the photo, blurring out the picture on the back.

In this picture, flying peach and plum petals brush against the dark coffin, and a continuous stream of mourners fill every corner of the street like running water.

The cold snowflakes danced down piece by piece, melting on the pictures and skin, turning into running water, and together with the cold wind, crossed the lifeless cheeks.

Leaves traces of water.

——

156 North 12th Street.

The figure who looked like a butler slowly opened the door and lit up the lights in the room.

He looked at the empty room in front of him, walked step by step to the old heater, and gently touched the heater which still had some warmth.

Then he slowly moved forward, walking towards the house, and shouted with a smile, "Mr. Vico, are you there? I am the housekeeper of the Minister of the Interior. You have met me before when you visited the Minister of the Interior."

He raised his hand and pushed open the door of the master bedroom. While quickly scanning the scene in the master bedroom, he maintained a gentle smile and shouted loudly, "The Minister of the Interior has something to ask you and needs to meet with you."

His tone slowly increased, and he walked to the door of the second bedroom again, "It's about what you said last time about taking you to see Mr. Lockett. Didn't the Minister of the Interior say that he would seriously consider your suggestion? He said today , it’s not impossible.”

His hand slowly placed on the door handle of the second bedroom.

Bang--

Suddenly I heard a slight sound in the corner.

The housekeeper looked up and saw a gray-white cat standing in the corner, staring at him.

A slight smile appeared on his lips, and he made a 'silence' gesture to the cat.

At this moment, the cat seemed to feel the terror of death, and instantly tightened its body, not daring to move.

The housekeeper smiled and looked away from the cat. While slowly turning the door handle of the second bedroom, he called gently, "Mr. Vico, are you there?"

As the door was pushed open, a puff of air blew out of the room and brushed against the butler's cheek.

Next to the small bed in the second bedroom, a wide window has been opened, facing the street outside.

The bedding on the small bed was now crumpled into a ball, and there were many dirty footprints on it. It seemed that someone had hurriedly stepped on the bed and climbed out of the window not long ago.

The house is located on the first floor and looks out onto the street.

Some drifting snow and cold wind were blowing in from outside the window, brushing against the butler's cheek.

He slowly walked to the window, stepped on the bed, and looked through the window at the street outside.

The streets were empty and there was no trace left.

"well,"

The housekeeper sighed, squatted on the bed, and pressed his hand on the dirty footprints on the bed.

boom--

His hand suddenly penetrated the bed and tore the hard iron bed from the middle.

He lowered his head and looked at the thin man curled up under the bed with a gentle smile, "Mr. Vico, we meet again."

At this time, the roar of the engine exploded outside the window, and the high-speed rotating wheel directly crashed into the open window.

Hitting the butler's smiling cheek.

Before the housekeeper could make any reaction, his body was blown away by the spinning wheel and hit the wall nearby.

His face was cold, and he was about to attack, when a bloody light flashed past and cut off his head.

Please vote for me at the beginning of the month.