My Beauty Variety: Starting from Banshee Town

The so-called good sake actually tastes good.

But in Ethan’s opinion, this is rice wine.

The alcohol content is not high, only about ten degrees. It is milder than spirits and refreshing than wine. It is a good choice for ordinary people to get tipsy.

However, he became a little dull while drinking.

A small wine jug and two wine cups.

He and Beatrice were sitting on chairs, sipping one bite at a time. Both of them focused their attention on it. They saw the man in the sweat towel carefully washing his hands before wrapping them in white cloth and taking them off the wall. A short knife.

The blade of the knife flashed coldly and was waved on the desk.

The pink fish meat is quickly divided into small pieces and then covered on the crystal clear rice balls.

Two small desks with three pieces on each.

Next to it, put another dish of soy sauce.

The simple matching makes people feel full of appetite, especially when the sweat scarf man wields the knife, the feeling of finger-wielding is very pleasing to the eye.

Although Beatrice didn't say it.

But Ethan could already guess that the man in front of him with a sweat scarf and a mustache should be Hattori Hanzo.

A knife forging master is naturally good at using knives.

"Bluefin tuna meat."

The man in the sweat scarf brought the mini table to Ethan and Beatrice with both hands, and said with a smile: "You are in good luck. This is the fat that just arrived in our store in the morning. It is the fattest part of the tuna."

"Please taste it!"

"Thanks."

Ethan looked aside, picked up a piece of sushi with chopsticks, dipped it in soy sauce and put it in his mouth.

The fragrance of the rice and the fat of the tuna meat are mixed together.

Brings a unique fragrance.

This so-called big belly is quite full of fat, and the delicate meat texture makes it very smooth. There is also a hint of mustard in it, and the light spiciness enriches the taste.

The soy sauce is not salty, just light enough.

"good."

Ethan put down his chopsticks, picked up the wine bottle and poured it into the wine cup that the sweat towel man placed inside: "Actually, sometimes it doesn't require too much skill, as long as you combine the best ingredients well, it will be a rare delicacy."

"It does taste good. This glass of wine is yours."

"Thank you!"

These words of appreciation made the man in the sweat scarf smile. He placed his palm sideways next to the wine cup to express his gratitude.

Beatrice looked at Ethan in surprise.

I didn't expect him to be so skilled with chopsticks, but it was normal. American Chinese food was also very popular in the United States. The woman also picked up a piece of sushi and put it in her mouth to chew slowly.

"Two guests."

The man in the sweat scarf took a sip of the sake and asked casually: "Are you guys coming to Okinawa for a trip?"

There is no problem communicating in English with the other party, but the accent is a bit heavy.

This is also a common problem among Sakura people.

Just understand it.

"Find a friend." Beatrice took a sip of wine and said with a smile: "It's just that I'm not sure yet if he is my friend. Of course, I hope he can be."

"oh?"

Putting down the cup, the man in sweat towel picked up the kitchen knife and continued to cut the food: "There is such a strange thing, what is the name of that person?"

"Maybe I can know something."

"After all, I know most of the people nearby."

"Hattori Hanzo."

Beatrice put down her wine glass and spoke her name leisurely.

"Brush~"

The blade of the knife cut across the fish meat, leaving a shallow mark on the chopping board. The man in the sweat scarf kept moving and waving the kitchen knife in his hand, but the next few knives left no traces.

He thought about it and processed the pieces of sushi.

"Feel sorry."

Another small table was brought to the two of them, covered with various kinds of sushi. The owner of the izakaya said regretfully: "I have never heard of this name around."

"I hope you two can find the person you are looking for."

Picking up a white cloth and wiping his hands, the man in the sweat towel returned the kitchen knife to its original position with a smile.

Various knives.

Kitchen knives of various sizes and shapes are neatly placed on the wall.

"Um."

Beatrice put down her chopsticks and looked at the other party seriously: "I wonder if you are interested in hearing a story, a story from a guest from afar, a story that happened in a small church in Texas?"

The morning sun shines in through the window.

A story about a new life slowly unfolds from the woman's mouth.

Vision for the future.

The joy of wearing a wedding dress, the longing for family and home, the laughter among friends, and finally the pulse of new life in the belly, all are full of freshness.

The affectionate narration attracted the man in the sweat scarf.

From the other party's red eyes and choked voice, he seemed to be able to guess that the development of the matter was not simple.

Perhaps, the other party is one of the protagonists of the story.

The narration of this story finally entered the church. The melodious sound of the flute, the messy and heavy footsteps, the crazy splashing of bullet casings and the muzzle flames sowed fear in everything.

Except for the bride, the nine people were all dyed in blood.

No more laughter.

The originally happy face was filled with fear. The pastor, friends, etc. all rushed for their lives. The black man who was responsible for the piano accompaniment also fell headlong on the keys, and the restless voice was heart-stirring.

The bride could only watch all this blankly.

Wait until the gunfire stops, wait until the footsteps gather around him, wait for the blood to spread to himself.

The story ends abruptly here.

A thin layer of sweat appeared on the forehead of the man in the sweat scarf.

"Hattori Hanzo has retired."

The guy bit his cheek and looked at the bride in front of him expressionlessly: "He doesn't know how to forge knives anymore, and there's nothing he can do to help you!"

"I believe you have a hidden knife."

Beatrice stared at the other party and said hoarsely: "Give me one!"

Now that the matter had come to this, she made it clear directly.

"No."

Hattori Hanzo shook his head and flatly refused: "Those are my collections for my enjoyment and enjoyment in the rest of my life. They will not be sold to anyone."

"I didn't say buy it."

Beatrice directly grabbed the wine bottle, took a big gulp, and looked at the man in the sweat scarf with red eyes:

"This is about sending!"

"Why?"

Hattori Hanzo looked stunned, frowned and said, "You should know the value of the Hanzo sword if you can find it. Besides, I don't owe you anything, why should I help you like this?"

"Because it was your student who did this!"

Beatrice clenched her fists tightly and spoke word by word: "As a master, you have to help me so that I can get my revenge!!!"

One sentence made Hattori Hanzo freeze up.

He looked at the other person, as if to confirm whether he was telling the truth or a lie.

After a few seconds.

A heavy sigh sounded.

"Whatever you sow, you will reap the consequences." Hattori Hanzo's figure suddenly became much more desolate, and he said with a hint of sadness: "You are right, I have an obligation to provide you with help."

"Although he is my most talented apprentice, he is also the one who needs to be killed the most."