Chapter 18 Chapter 18 Simple Folk Customs New York City
Vodka drove towards Narita Airport, Gin sat in the passenger seat, and Olga and Toru Amuro sat in the back seat.
September was almost over and Olga was about to start school. It was impossible for her to take a taxi or bus to the airport, so once again, Gin's beloved Porsche 356A served as a taxi.
"Oh, Lingling, my coat—" Olga seemed to suddenly remember something.
"It's in the bag." Amuro Toru patted the backpack on the seat, signaling Olga to be at ease.
Olga usually wears a down jacket on planes, especially on long-distance flights. Since down jackets are not allowed outside in Tokyo at the end of September, they can only bring coats with them.
"'Zero Zero'?" Suddenly, Gin looked over through the rearview mirror with a slightly sinister look in his eyes. "I remember that was the name of your ugly rat?"
Olga slandered Gin in her heart for not being able to remember the names of dead people, but for remembering the name of a hamster quite clearly.
She folded her arms and leaned back in her chair. "Yes. But the name is now inherited by Bourbon - Zero Zero II."
Toru Amuro: "..."
Gin's focus wasn't on Olga's playful words: "Did your mouse die again?"
This was a rat she'd bought for $150,000! How long had she only had it? Half a month? A week? Gin could almost see this little money-eater giggling and tearing up the bills right in front of him.
After hearing what Gin said, Amuro Toru also remembered. He had only seen the hamster when he first met Olga as Amuro Toru, and he had never seen it anywhere in the manor since then.
Facing the gazes of Gin and Amuro Toru, especially Amuro Toru's slightly curious gaze, Olga pouted in extreme displeasure.
That annoying Gin always brings up things she doesn't want to mention!
Olga folded her arms and slid down the back of the chair a little further, nestling herself in it. She blinked and adjusted her expression to make herself look less unaware.
"It died, probably because of its age..." There was just a hint of sadness in Olga's tone.
Gin sneered disdainfully: "Yes, it has absolutely nothing to do with you anyway."
The hamster was originally called "Sixteen" because it was the sixteenth hamster Olga had raised.
The lifespan of a hamster is usually two to three years, but Olga raised a total of 16 hamsters one after another in just two years. According to her, all of these hamsters died of old age, illness, or disappeared.
Of course Gin wouldn't believe Olga's lies. But...
Gin looked through the rearview mirror at the guy who was just as annoying as the little money-eater. However, the little money-eater's excuse was obviously not made up for him.
I just don't know how long a person can hide his true nature. Gin's grin widened.
Especially, people like Arthas.
He suddenly looked forward to it.
*
Olga finally boarded the flight back to America with Amuro Toru. It seemed that Amuro Toru accepted the hamster "Sixteen"'s death from old age. He did not delve into the issue further and did not even ask Olga once.
"I hate New York." Olga sat by the window, looking listlessly at the white clouds outside.
Amuro Toru turned his head, looked at her withered profile, and said with a bit of amusement: "Anyway, you have been here for so many years. If you hold on for one more year, you can go to university in another state."
Olga yawned loudly: "But, I used to live in California."
"Huh?"
According to Amuro Toru's understanding, the organization's focus in America was clearly in New York. He didn't understand why, no matter how he considered it, the organization should prioritize keeping Olga in New York.
Olga drawled unhappily: "The organization asked me to transfer to New York—"
As for the reason for transferring schools?
Toru Amuro didn't ask, and Olga naturally wouldn't tell him on her own initiative.
Olga guessed that Amuro Toru probably thought she didn't know the real reason why the organization asked her to transfer. Of course, that was also her guidance.
Olga didn't want Toru Amuro to know the reason for transferring schools at all.
Olga knew from a young age that some things that seemed normal to her were abnormal to others, even some members of the organization.
*
New York is much colder than Southern California in October.
Olga was wearing the most common combination of a sweatshirt and shorts on the street. A gust of cold wind made her doubt her ability to resist the cold.
So, I really hate New York the most, Olga thought.
Olga's second thought was to go shopping for some clothes suitable for the New York weather this weekend.
It was 5:30 in the afternoon, the sun had already set, the sky was gray, and the heavy clouds looked low and oppressive.
A light drizzle drifted down from the sky. Few people were holding umbrellas along the way, and Olga wasn't in the habit of doing so. She pulled the hood of her sweatshirt over her head and, carrying her schoolbag, walked out into the rain.
School was over at around 2:00 in the afternoon, but there was a club activity today that was related to GPA, so Olga stayed in school until now.
There were almost no people on the street. The fallen leaves from the trees along the roadside formed a thick, unsweeped layer on the ground. The freshest leaves lay on top, but when you stepped on them, the dead leaves beneath made a subtle crunching sound.
The road nearby followed the conventions of a big city, with long lines of cars jammed in between, and high beams piercing through the gradually rising mist, extending into the distance.
The honking of horns one after another highlights the impatience of drivers during the evening rush hour in big cities.
Olga was also irritated, the honking of the horn giving her a headache. But there was nothing she could do. Amuro Toru had been sent on a mission by the organization and couldn't come to pick her up today.
But even if he came, the situation probably wouldn't be much better... Looking at the convoy on the road that was barely moving at all, Olga felt that she hated New York even more.
Although Southern California is also quite congested. It’s a common problem in big cities…
*
Olga stood in the park, her hands raised. On the phone screen in her left hand, a small blue dot representing a person also stopped on the map.
A few steps away, a homeless man wearing a black baseball cap and whose face could not be seen was pointing a wooden gun at Olga's head.
The homeless man was wearing a wrinkled short-sleeved T-shirt, and Olga had no doubt that if she got closer, she would be able to smell the sour odor on him.
The man had a light complexion and was tall, but he didn't look strong.
Olga's gaze shifted to his arm, which held the cannon. The crease of his elbow was covered in bruises. Under the dim streetlight, Olga could vaguely see the dense, pinhole-like marks scattered across it through the fine rain.
"Hey, give me all the money you have!"
The "robber" who blocked the road seemed to be in an excited state, and the hand hanging by his side twitched unnaturally from time to time.
Olga kept a blank face and maintained a surrender posture.
Tsk, here it comes again.
This was the fourth robbery Olga had encountered in the short two weeks since she transferred to New York, an average of two per week.
The charm of Downtown. Olga let her thoughts flow without any tension.
"Hey! Didn't you hear me?!"
As if angry at Olga's indifference, the robber walked towards her excitedly: "You little bitch, I *****!"
What followed was a string of insults mixed with slang. The robber spoke so fast that Olga could hardly understand.
"I'm out of money, how about I give you this phone?"
Olga was not lying, because this was the second time she had been robbed in just ten minutes!
She felt that her luck today was really bad, so bad that she shouldn't even go out.
Generally speaking, Olga would carry some cash with her as a "life saving money" in case of such "emergency" that theoretically should not happen often. If she was lucky, the robbers would run away immediately after getting the money.
But as luck would have it, all the "life money" Olga brought with her when she went out had been spent ten minutes ago.
As for why someone would try to rob someone who looked like an elementary school student? How much money could an elementary school student have?
Olga didn't understand. She could only guess that she was one of the very few unlucky people who didn't drive but just walked and happened to pass by the park.
“Don’t bargain with me!!!”
Olga's "non-cooperation" successfully angered the robber, who snatched Olga's mobile phone and threw it away.
Amid the sound of rain, Olga could still clearly hear a series of sounds of cell phones breaking into pieces after they hit the ground.
Olga wouldn't feel bad about losing a phone, but her mood plummeted. She felt unhappy. She raised her eyes and stared at the robber with a blank gaze, and began to calculate her chances of winning.
Sadly, it’s approximately zero.
Children have no advantages over adults, even if the adult is a weakling who has been completely drained by drugs.
In the face of absolute power, any skill would be futile.
As for sneak attacks?
The drug made the robber in front of him more excited, but it also increased his vigilance and concentration. At least when he was holding a wooden gun with the safety already pulled, it would be difficult for Olga to succeed without getting hurt.
*
The robber suddenly became alert, feeling like he was being stared at from behind by a poisonous snake. However, there was no one else around except him and the little brat.
The robber's half-conscious mind attributed this to the cold wind in New York in October. However, this chill undoubtedly aroused the robber's nerves even more. He began to pace back and forth, muttering incomprehensible words.
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