The Death Knell

Chapter 4374 Waiter Linda

To be honest, the profession of mercenaries is not particularly compatible with fast food restaurants.

Because who are the customers of a normal fast food restaurant? Salary workers rushing to go to work in the morning, truck drivers passing by to deliver water, middle school students looking for a place to chat with their classmates on the way home from school, police officers patrolling the streets and stopping by to buy donuts.

For a profession like mercenaries, which involves cutting blood and licking blood, most people working in this profession are under great mental pressure. The easiest way to vent their anger is through eating, drinking, whoring and gambling, but fast food restaurants can provide too little stimulation.

Most fast food restaurants do not have liquor licenses and can only sell beer; as a restaurant, the basic requirement is that the windows are clear and clean, and there are no dark corners that can hide from people's eyes; the spending power of customers is very average, and no girls will come to the restaurant to take jobs.

Mercenaries wouldn't like this kind of place.

But who calls the violent wolf a weirdo? He just loves the food here.

Although it was a restaurant from an alien planet, the architectural style and decoration were similar to those Su Ming had seen in the United States. It was like a small store next to a gas station next to the Kansas interstate, without any highlights.

There is a light sign hanging at the door, about one meter long, with the word food written on it, not even a serious store name.

"Creak."

Su Ming, smoking a cigarette, pushed the door in. The two wooden panels embedded with glass made a pitiful friction sound.

There were many customers in the store, but none of them looked like humans. A group of smelly aliens were sitting in rows on the bar, chatting with their friends while eating.

Mucus, tentacles, multiple legs, compound eyes, these are the biological characteristics that humans hate, and each of these guys has some of them.

There are some people in the booth area who carry a large number of weapons. They should be space mercenaries, but these people don't seem to be aggressive like soldiers. They just sit quietly in their seats, drinking beer and eating onion rings, waiting for business. Come to your door.

Seeing Deathstroke and his team coming in, they just nodded from a distance, as if approving of Deathstroke's random killing behavior outside.

"There's a seat here, I grabbed it, everyone, come quickly!"

Shazam accelerated suddenly, grabbed the booth that someone had just left, sat down, waved to his teammates, smiled stupidly, and pulled the trash on the table to one place.

I don't know why, but seeing the boy like this, Su Ming suddenly felt a little distressed.

Although he is cursed by "locked wisdom", Shazam does not appear to be particularly smart, but he works hard, just like the kind of child who deliberately wants to please his parents, trying to please Deathstroke and his teammates.

This may be due to his lack of sense of security as an orphan. He wants to play with friends and feel the warmth of his relatives. So along the way, Su Ming has sensed obvious autistic tendencies and inferiority complex from him.

Either he plays games with his head down and doesn't speak, or he seems to be irritable no matter what he does. But in fact, this is also a psychological problem. He is afraid of being criticized, but he urgently needs the approval of others.

Comparing it with Damian, you can see that Rice hardly needs the approval of others and is very independent.

And as a teenager, he didn't play video games himself, but was someone who used them to seduce and drive his teammates. For example, every time Black Wally disobeyed him, Damian would take out the latest physical game card to smooth things over.

"Well done, Shazam." Deathstroke walked over with the orangutan on his shoulders, and chose a seat with a better view and sat down. The sofa in the booth was a little dirty, but it wasn't a big problem: "If we have one again in the future, If we have a chance to go out together, you’ll have to help us grab a seat.”

After saying that, he took out a piece of chocolate and threw it to the big boy as a reward.

The boy was overjoyed after hearing what Deathstroke said. While nodding his head, he began to peel off the piece of chocolate and eat it, also looking very anxious.

When the sweet candy was brought to his mouth, he was so intoxicated that he closed his eyes.

"The people here seem...too normal." Wally turned his head and looked around the store, with a confused expression on his face: "I mean, even though It seems a bit strange to have a store full of aliens, but these aliens live and behave almost like humans, right?"

He seems to be hinting at something, is he trying to stop Deathstroke from killing aliens?

If you think too much, you only need to kill that one person to establish your authority and verify your environment.

"It's understandable." The orangutan jumped on Deathstroke's lap and lay on the edge of the table with his head exposed: "As long as they are carbon-based organisms, it is difficult to avoid the problem of eating, drinking and diarrhea, since these organisms are carbon-based organisms like humans. , then it’s normal for similar living habits.”

Donna put her shield on her back and picked up the menu. The poor variety of dishes made her frown: "But I heard that there are many silicon-based creatures in the universe."

"Ah, there is. I saw it not long ago." Su Ming took the menu, glanced at it, and raised his hand to signal the waiter to come over: "Many silicon-based creatures are considered elemental creatures, such as stone men and so on. .”

While chatting, the waitress came over. She was a blond human woman with an average face but a hot figure. She was wearing a pink dress and a dirty white apron. There was ketchup in the apron pocket. and mayonnaise, looks very professional.

Standing at the edge of the table, she took out a small notepad, looked at everyone with eyes like a dead fish, moistened the tip of the ballpoint pen on her tongue, and read in a tired voice without emotion:

"Welcome to Al's Restaurant, I'm Linda, what would you like to eat?"

It's not even business. Talking is like chanting sutras in a low voice. It's fast and unclear, and ordinary people can't hear it at all.

Baolang moving the restaurant here is indeed good for the business, but not so good for the employees.

With the store as their home, they work three shifts every day, there are no holidays, and they have to exchange all kinds of weird currencies into some hard currencies in the universe. The employees are miserable.

Repeating one sentence for many years and still receiving guests according to standard procedures is already considered dedicated.

"Don't worry about ordering, dear, we are from the earth." Su Ming put down the menu, because there were only two dishes on the menu, sandwiches and pasta, and the drinks didn't even include milk.

"Oh, I can see it, but your trick won't work."

Linda, who was too lazy to move her eyes at first, reacted. She glanced at Deathstroke, and then flattened her lips into a fleeting fake smile:

"Ah, fellow human beings, welcome! Do you think I would say this? Stop dreaming. Even if we are the same species, I will not sleep with you. Don't even think about getting free food. Tell me what to eat. I'm busy. It’s here.”

"Are you so ruthless? I thought you were not the right type of woman." Su Ming rubbed the head of the gorilla who was suppressing laughter, casually ordered a few drinks on the menu with his fingers, and then said: "We are violent wolves My friend, is this identity closer than that of a human being?"

It was indeed closer. Apparently Linda knew that Tyrannosaurus had been hanging out on Earth recently. She immediately sat down next to the death knell, dazed for a few seconds, and lit a cigarette:

"How's that bastard doing? He hasn't been here for a long time."

"Same old, Wolf is always the same, with his motorcycle and Dolphin Dream." Deathstroke once again controlled the rhythm of the conversation, and he smiled: "But do you really care about how Wolf is doing? Or do you want to Ask about your daughter?"

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