Hula, when I opened the door of the "Three Crip" bar, a warm wave of heat hit me, mixed with rustling voices and the scent of alcohol instantly passed through the entrance and vented towards the street, confusing with the noise of the city streets.

“… Let me tell you that I am very, very pleased to see the art of phantoms become really popular.”

"I had tried it fifteen years ago. I didn't say that they copied or plagiarized my ideas, but that I had such ideas and ideas when I was young. At that time, I was still in Tuno and met a group of psychics with countless ideas. We tried to combine psychics with art, and made some attempts to create shadows and phantoms, etc."

“Sadly…”

"Well. Anyway, I just want to say that it's very interesting to see the Ceylon Song and Dance Company be able to carry forward the game now, and I'm really happy for them."

It sounds like noisy, but in fact there are not many guests in the bar. At around 10 o'clock in the morning, I am at an awkwardly middle node. The busy day has just started in the morning, and the prosperity and crowding of lunch time have not yet arrived. In addition, today is Saturday, and the carnival party last night continued until curfew time. The sleepy people should still be resting in their dreams, so the bar is rarely quiet.

Most of the bustling sounds caught in my ears just now came from the same person. Standing in front of the bar, holding a glass of cheap gin wine, muttering to myself, showing off my former glory and glory.

There was no other listener around him, only a thin little guy leaned against the stool, dozing off with his head on his head, but he didn't know if he was listening carefully; but as long as there was someone standing next to him, the man whose hairline had already begun to show signs of his hairline regression at the front of his forehead was already satisfied, and he kept telling his story with his hands and feet.

"Welcome!"

After the bar door was pushed open, the little guy stood at the right moment, calling out crisply, but when he noticed the figure of the person coming, his expression became a little awkward, and his face seemed to be seriously thinking: Should he run away?

Guzming, who was standing in the bar, also raised his head, his eyebrows moved closer to the middle, and a word "chuan" was piled up. His hands were wiping the wine glass that seemed to be endless, making people suspect that his feet were fixed in the same position on the bar, and the ground was drawn as a prison.

“Hodden?”

Guzming's gaze fell on Hoden's shoulder. Although there was no too much explanation, his sharp eyes seemed to be able to see through the protection of the skin and express his meaning clearly and accurately.

But Hoden didn't care.

Hoden showed a lazy smile, "It's not the busiest time now, it doesn't matter, I won't let Pete drink. You should trust me."

In just over a month, Guzming still treated Hodden as a "probationary" attitude, and he never let go of his guard. Hodden could clearly feel this; but Guzming never said anything, not even explicitly or implying, just watched silently.

On the other hand, Hoden was always observing Guzming secretly. In addition to Xiao Show at the scene of the murder that day, he had strict discipline and rules, etc., and he could feel the traces left by the "past" on Guzming's body, indicating that he also had a secret.

However, Huoden has never exposed it or even explored it.

In this way, Hoden and Guzming developed a unique tacit understanding that belonged to them, neither enemies nor friends, but could live in harmony.

How should it be described?

If it were chosen between Robben and Guzming, Hoden would believe Guzming more, and this is probably the case.

At this time, Guzming was just a sight, and Hoden immediately understood. He was worried that Pitt, who appeared with him, had not reached the legal drinking age at the age of thirteen.

Although Hodden said no need to worry, Guzmin still stared at Hodden with a suspicious look, without relaxing his guard at all.

Hoden raised his eyebrows and glanced at Oliver's direction, as if he was complaining: So what's going on with this thirteen-year-old child?

Guzmin didn't say anything, but just put the wine glass heavily on the bar and expressed his dissatisfaction with practical actions.

The muffled "bang" sound made the middle-aged drunkard who was talking long and frightened. His words were interrupted, and he raised his ears vigilantly, exploring left and right like a mongoose. After confirming that there was no dangerous breath, he relaxed and then continued to brag in a scattered manner.

Hoden took Pete to his familiar corner, waiting for Oliver to come and serve.

But Oliver did not come over abnormally.

You can see Oliver standing next to the bar, his steps hesitating, his lowered head covered his expression, and his obscure emotions were incomprehensible.

"Oliver!" Pete stood up and waved to greet him.

Oliver did not respond, and even turned slightly, his tight muscles seemed to be ready to escape at any time, and he was now struggling:

Escape?

Leave?

His back to Hoden's figure was stubborn and stiff, and he stood up stubbornly and stiffly like a hedgehog. His alert and fearful posture made him resist all the creatures approaching. Even the drunkard who was giving passionate speeches could not infect the corner where Oliver was isolated.

"Oliver." Pete couldn't hold back and left the seat and took the initiative to walk towards Oliver.

Unexpectedly, this action frightened Oliver and rushed out like a frightened bird, running away before Pete approached.

"Hodden?" Pete turned his head and looked at Hodden with anxiety and astonishment. He didn't know what was going on. They didn't even have time to explain their purpose, right? So what exactly was Oliver running away?

Hoden spread his hands to express his innocence: I did nothing, I knew nothing, and then slowly picked up the menu:

What food should I order? I wonder if Guzmin updated the "Today's Menu"?

Pete looked at Huoden who was reading the menu seriously, and felt that Huoden was a little unfamiliar with such confidence, and his confident calmness and calmness emanated from the inside out; but Pete didn't think much about it. In his opinion, Huoden was already omnipotent, and it would not be surprising even if he could control the overall situation.

Sure enough, after a while, Oliver, who had escaped from the bar, ran back again, panted open the back door, and carefully scanned the audience, as if he was worried about Guzming's face.

Pete, who was still standing in the open space, called out, "Oliver, we came here to help. Really, we have no malice."

Oliver looked at Pete with a vigilant look and did not step forward.
Chapter completed!