The beautiful daily life of Black Light Salted Fish

"Come out!!! I know you're here!"

A man with a sweaty face stood in an empty room and yelled, holding a gun. The gang members at his feet were lying on the floor, all shot to death by bullets. The radio on the table was even playing rock music. Miss Watson stood directly opposite the man, but the guy's eyes were unfocused, and he seemed completely unable to see the woman in front of him.

As Miss Watson watched, the man took out his mobile phone and broadcast several numbers in succession, but all of them were switched to voice reminders because the call took too long. He cursed, picked up a pistol from the ground, and walked toward the only exit in the room. Miss Watson stepped aside, and the floor next to the door was covered with small yellow flowers. They were brought by her from Silent Hill, but within a few hours, they showed signs of withering.

But the hallucinogenic properties are still strong.

Half a minute ago, she cleaned up the last few members of the Pink Golden Bull, but she didn't expect that there was someone squatting in the toilet with diarrhea. Fortunately, the hallucinogenic pollen had already taken effect. As the man passed through the corridor and fell downstairs from the window at the end, Miss Watson dragged several knocked-out fleshy girls from the next room and transported them directly out of the first floor. main entrance.

After burning the hallucinogenic flowers, Miss Watson followed the stairs into the basement, where corpses were already lying on the ground. The man just now probably called the guard here, but it was obvious that no one would answer. There is a group of workers crowded in the corner of the basement. They are basically the unlucky ones who were kidnapped by the Pink Taurus, and many of them have illegal household registrations. The three newly transformed black light servants, holding submachine guns, stood in two corners separately, keeping an eye on this group of unstable factors for Miss Watson.

Miss Watson walked toward the door and looked at her watch.

3, 2, 1...

laugh--!

The centermost stage burst into flames, and then quickly spread to the surrounding areas. This was a flammable substance that had been arranged in advance. It wouldn't be long before this drug-making laboratory would be completely destroyed by the flames. Miss Watson led the black light servant towards the exit, no longer paying attention to the workers who had lost their restraints. She got into the van that had been prepared in advance, stepped on the accelerator and accelerated forward, and ran out of the dark street before the other gangs could react.

I can only say that this group of gangsters is indeed not enough to watch.

His sneak attack was very successful this time. He made no noise at all and even took the time to throw a few corpses to the Countess and her family. The hallucinogenic flowers were purely a temporary idea of ​​Miss Watson. What happened just now can only prove that the thing can still work, but without the help of the puppet master, the gang members behaved completely randomly after inhaling the pollen, and there was no way to control it. So if you really want to test it, you probably have to find a special opportunity.

The tentacles turned the radio knob, and a burst of singing soon filled the car. Miss Watson turned the volume up a few notches and hummed along quietly. This is the song "Hey Jude" released by the Beatles in 1968. It can be said to be one of the most representative works of the Beatles... although they do have quite a few representative works.

"Hey Jude, don't be afraid, You were made to go out and get her."

[Hey Judy, don’t be afraid, you are born with the courage to overcome fear]

"The minute You let her under your skin, Then you begin to make it better..."

[The moment you bury it in your heart, the world starts to get better...]

A brisk drumbeat began to play.

Paul McCartney's young voice sounded so gentle, and the face with the pot-top haircut and wandering eyes at the camera seemed to appear in front of him again. With a few high-pitched shouts, the classic "NA NA NA NA. …..” The chorus joins in, mixing in a soul-soothing warmth. Miss Watson shook her head slightly and shouted "NA NA NA" along with the chorus. Her happy expression formed a strong contrast with the fierce faces of the black light servants.

What is there to say?

Anyone can be saved as long as there is love.

If only it were so easy to ride two boats.

crunch--

The van screeched to a halt.

"Why are you standing there? You are all smiling at me."

Miss Watson turned to look at the three black light servants expressionlessly.

No one answered.

The car swayed slightly for a while, and Miss Watson, who had emptied the passengers, smiled again and continued to follow "NA NA NA". A few minutes later, she abandoned the car in the alley and swung her tentacles back to her hotel room in South Bank. The sky was already bright at this time, and even after so many years, there were still many traces of the once famous fog city. It happened that the fog was particularly thick today, and when I looked up, I saw a large hazy area, which was comparable to the small town in Maine in the original Union.

pat!

Miss Watson used her pocket watch to open the entrance to Silent Hill again, and after confirming that the countess and her family were eating flesh, she turned her attention to Donna Benevento in the other corner. The puppeteer was wearing a nun's uniform, huddled on the last row of chairs, hugging her legs, obviously very disturbed by the bloody scene on the other side.

"You match this outfit quite well. You don't show your face anyway." As soon as Miss Watson walked in the door, Donna jumped up from the bench and trotted towards her. Although a new hood was put on, Donna's intention could be seen just from this action. Sure enough, the puppeteer hugged one of Miss Watson's arms tightly, and her whole body was still trembling slightly.

"Why are you shaking? Are you still afraid?"

Donna said nothing.

"I shouldn't have tied you in in the first place. It would have been easier to kill you with two shots." Miss Watson sighed, touching Donna's thin shoulders that were shaking more and more: "But forget it, I'll just leave you here as a doll. Okay, now and then I can play dress-up games. You can’t tell, but I’m usually tightly wrapped and have a pretty good figure when I take off my clothes. But my physique is too weak. It’s so shameful that I’ll be beaten to death by a fist. , you are the most embarrassing of the four lords...Okay, let go!"

She patted Donna on the butt, then pushed the other person away and dropped the gun bags she was carrying: "I brought you some weapons again, and they are all used in the same way. This time, don't take them apart to make dolls. . I really want it. I’ll bring you some toys or something in a few days, and then I’ll say it again, leave the Countess and her family alone. It’ll be fine if you don’t get close. Do you understand?”

"Um......"

"So Ms. Benevento, do you want to treat your Stockholm Syndrome?" Miss Watson leaned over again, lifted up Donna's hood, and put her face close to her nervous face: "I told you last time Right? The more you rely on me, the less likely you are to leave Silent Hill. You should adapt to survive here. The most important thing is to learn to protect yourself, face your own nightmares, and then strengthen your heart and accept it, Get over it and finally make peace with yourself.”

As she spoke, Miss Watson put her hand on Donna's chest.

Donna's eyes were a little aggrieved, and that expression meant "What are you talking about again that I don't understand?"

Miss Watson looked at her.

Miss Watson pinched her little nose.

Miss Watson slapped herself.

Facing Donna's confused look, she coughed twice and pulled open a gun bag on the ground: "Ahem, these guns are all looted from gangsters. There are no good ones. They are all cheap products. You can just use them." Well. Look at this Stirling submachine gun. It is a Mark 4 model. Its ancestor was the Sten in the British Army in World War II... Forget it, you don’t understand, come on, hold the magazine!"

......

Michela heard the song "Canon" in a hazy state.

She pressed the hatch switch and saw a strange girl sitting next to the ammunition box playing guitar.

After being stunned for a while, Miss Butterfly Knife remembered that the face was called Jessica Drew, one of Watson's many forms. Seeing Michelle wake up, Jessica did not stop playing, but moved her eyes to her face. After more than ten hours of practice, Black Light's body quickly adapted to the state in memory, and his playing feel quickly improved. For pieces that are not too technically difficult, after replaying them several times, Jessica no longer even needs to look at the fretboard during the whole process.

Miss Butterfly Knife slowly sat up, put on her camouflage coat, and sat in front of the guitarist. Today, Jessica is wearing jeans and a vest, with her black hair combed naturally to the left side of her face. She looks fresh and capable, but the lip nail at the corner of her mouth adds a little rebelliousness to her whole person.

But that's not where Michela's focus lies.

She was staring at the hand.

The flexible fingertips are as graceful as dancing, as if caressing the fingerboard of the guitar. Every landing point is extremely gentle, without any sense of lag. This was the first time for Michela to watch Watson play the piano up close. Although the other person used another image, it still made her immersed in it. "Canon" has no threshold for appreciation, and it fits the situation very well.

Strictly speaking, Miss Butterfly Knife's artistic quality is not low. During her days at Heidelberg Medical School, she enjoyed listening to music and conducting experiments for a long time. It's a pity that after several years of mercenary career, the previous years seemed extremely distant, and the woman gradually lost her interest in appreciating music. But now, perhaps because I just woke up, listening to the sweet notes, this long-lost comfort and relaxation gradually began to return to me.

Jessica's movements paused as the last note faded out of the resonance box.

Just as Michela wanted to speak, she was stopped by a pair of cold lips.

"This is the best I've ever played "Canon" in my life." Jessica reached for a can of ice-cold soda and carefully wiped off the condensation droplets on the surface to avoid damaging the piano body below. Seeing her nervous look, Miss Butterfly Knife couldn't help laughing: "Your expression is like you are making a bomb and it will explode accidentally."

"This piano is more expensive than all your guns."

Jessica put down the soda can and licked her lips: "How do you feel?"

"Sounds great."

"I mean the kiss just now."

"...It's not bad." Michela glanced at her, stood up and walked to the bathroom: "But to be honest, I'm not used to your face, so don't expect to get into my bed tonight."