Chapter 30 Peeping and Tracking
9 o'clock in the morning.
205th failure.
Overall, the increase in the number of times has slowed down, which means that the average time taken each time has become longer, and each time is closer to success, and more exciting.
There were two times when he even counted more than 95 times in a row, and then he stopped, and was so angry that he vomited blood.
The last time Feng Mu was so angry was when the system activation task was forced to be interrupted, and he killed the culprit Zheng Hang.
This time, he couldn't kill himself to vent his anger, which made him even more angry.
"Calm down, calm down. You will definitely succeed today. The more anxious you are, the easier it is to make mistakes. Take it easy and calm down."
Feng Mu took several deep breaths in succession, controlling his finger bones to return to their original shape and retracting his fingertips.
When Feng Mu was carving his finger bones last night, he discovered that his bones seemed to have some memory function.
After deforming and shaping it into a certain shape many times, you can shape it the same way next time without having to think too much. It's a bit like muscle memory.
for example,
It took him nearly four hours to carve ten finger bones last night, but today it might only take him half an hour to restore them to be exactly the same.
Go to the bathroom, wash your face with cold water, sit on the toilet, and get rid of your bad emotions along with your poop.
Feng Mu finished his breakfast with dark circles under his eyes from being tipsy, then went out to a black clinic two blocks away and bought a few injection needles.
The reason why he went to the black clinic was because he was a white-collar worker and he had to wait in long lines to go to a regular medical institution.
Even if you don't want to see a doctor but just buy some syringes, you have to wait in line for at least a month, and you may not be able to buy them.
The last time Wang Xiuli cut her finger while cooking, she had to wait in line for a month to buy gauze at the hospital. Of course, it was impossible for her to buy it. By the time she got it, the scar had healed. In the end, Feng Ju took some gauze home from the police station.
The medical supplies available at black clinics are relatively limited, and the prices start at at least three times more expensive. The more you buy, the more expensive it is.
What's even more outrageous is that the illegal clinic has been running well, and although the people at the bottom curse it, they actually don't want it to be closed down. The people at the top have repeatedly ordered an investigation in the news, but in reality, in the end, all they did was just a lot of noise and little action, and the clinic was simply fined.
The owner and doctor of the black clinic is called Ge Qingming. He is in his 50s, bald, wears gold-rimmed glasses, and likes to look at people with one eye sideways.
In the clinic, he usually wore a white coat, the same as those in the hospital, with a dirty collar but clean cuffs. Combined with his outfit, although Feng Mu had only been there twice, he was deeply impressed by his incongruous temperament.
There was a rag doll hanging on the door of the clinic with a red rope. It had only one eye, and the other eye was untied. Its mouth was open with a long tongue sticking out.
"There's a weird rag doll hanging above the door. It's a weird doctor with a weird aesthetic."
Feng Mu complained inwardly, pushed the door open and walked in.
He didn't notice that when his hair accidentally brushed against the doll, the doll's tongue moved as if blown by the wind.
"Doctor Ge, I want five syringes, do you have any?"
There were two patients receiving intravenous drips in the clinic. Ge Qingming was sitting at his seat. He raised his eyelids slightly and heard Feng Mu approaching and asking.
Ge Qingming: "Do you want a new one or a recycled one? A new one is 150 yuan, and a used one is 50 yuan."
Feng Mu's face twitched as he was shocked by the price of the syringe. The needle syringe from his previous life was actually so expensive, and this thing was clearly marked as second-hand. It was simply outrageous.
Feng Mu took out his wallet and did not bargain: "New, 5 sticks, plus a bottle of disinfectant alcohol, how much?"
Ge Qingming took out the things Feng Mu wanted from the cabinet, piled them on the table and pushed them over: "1,000."
The price is so exaggerated. No wonder the common saying among the white civilians is, "I'd rather meet the Black King of Hell than the White Grim Reaper."
The Black King of Hell refers to the black robe of the night watchman. Seeing that black robe means that you have been transformed into a corpse or infected by evil spirits.
The White Death refers to the white coat.
The Black King of Hell is deadly, but the White Grim Reaper is even more deadly.
Feng Mu didn't want to waste any more time talking to Ge Qingming. He paid for the goods, put them into his shoulder bag and left.
The previous schoolbag was burned together with the ashes. This cloth bag was given to Feng Ju by the police station. Feng Ju thought it was too small to hold anything, and Feng Yuhuai thought it was ugly, so it fell into his hands.
Two hours later.
More than a dozen patients came in and out of the black clinic.
When it was time for lunch, Ge Qingming cleared the patients, walked to the door, raised his hand and pulled the rolling door down halfway.
Suddenly, his half-bent waist froze, and his bald head tilted back until it was bent 90 degrees, with the back of his head touching his back, and his two slanted eyes finally looked straight at the hanging rag doll.
"Huh?"
The voice was deep yet a little crisp, like the voice of an old person coming from a bent neck, or like the baby sound of a rag doll shaking its tongue.
At the same time, Feng Mu took three buses and got off at Wuguan Street.
Just like in the past, gyms liked to gather together, and there were more than a dozen martial arts gyms of all sizes on the Martial Arts Street.
There is no need to investigate. Anyone with a little common sense will understand that if someone dares to open a martial arts school here and is able to keep it running, the owner of the school must have real kung fu skills.
Of course, whether it will be passed on to you or not, and whether you can learn it or not, is another matter.
Feng Mu didn't come here to learn martial arts. He simply wanted to find a martial arts school with many students so that he could go on stage with them and try his hand at fighting when he had free time.
Winning or losing is not important. What is important is that he has a fixed place where he can frequently gain combat experience packs.
To be honest, he didn't know much about the martial arts schools in this world, as he had never set foot in one due to his lack of money.
"???"
Feng Mu was so upset after being turned away by Canglong Martial Arts School.
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Can you imagine going to a gym to get a membership and being turned away because of your thin body or too much body fat? You can't imagine it, but Canglong Martial Arts School rejected his membership application because his physique did not meet the standards.
Feng Mu didn't believe it, so he went to several martial arts schools in succession. Without exception, he was turned away from all of them, although the attitudes were sometimes contemptuous and sometimes polite.
"A mere martial arts school actually has a threshold. Well, I can't afford it."
Feng Mu gritted his teeth, turned around and walked to the end of the street, stopping in front of a martial arts hall with the oldest decoration and the sparsest and most deserted people inside.
Feng Mu still did not give up. It was very important for him to make up for his combat shortcomings and accumulate pseudo-actual combat experience.
He looked up and saw the plaque with some paint peeling off - Douqiong.
"Dou Qiong, right? What a childish name. I'll give you a chance, I hope you won't be ungrateful." Feng Mu took a deep breath and walked in with full momentum.
If this martial arts school refuses to accept him, he will have to find a way to forge a bone root test form.
A quarter of an hour later.
Feng Mu walked out with an ordinary membership card in his hand, looking a little dazed.
Done.
Without asking about his background at all, the librarian who issued the card only recorded his basic information. There was a flash of surprise on his face when he registered that he was an incinerator.
The only other thing they did was collect an ordinary annual fee of 5,000 yuan and give him a membership notice.
It went so smoothly that Feng Mu had to reflect on whether he had been cheated.
So, people are just mean people. They tend to complain when things are too difficult or too easy.
Feng Mu turned around and looked at the plaque again, then put away his membership card and left. He just came out today to apply for a card, relax and change his mind.
"Come back to get Douqiong's experience packs when you have time in a couple of days. Let's go back now. We must master the [Crane Claw Skill] tonight!" Feng Muxin thought.
It takes 1 hour to take the bus back.
When I returned to the community, some of the lights in the upper city had gone out one after another, and the night had become half darker.
When he reached the stairs, the cell phone in his trouser pocket vibrated. Feng Mu paused, suddenly turned his head and looked back, and found a sneaky figure following him from a distance.
"Are you being followed?" Feng Mu pretended not to notice and turned his head back.
He walked up the stairs, scrolling through his text messages.
——Boss, I’ve been a bit busy today and haven’t found a suitable opportunity to reply to your message.
——Boss Zheng relies heavily on Brother Bin’s brain, but he seems to be a little afraid of Brother Bin. However, in this recent investigation, Boss Zheng seems to completely trust Brother Bin and let him investigate freely.
——By the way, this is the new list that Brother Bin has drawn up.
It's not a photo, it's a text editor, so there's only a long list of names separated by commas.
Dong Jia, Li Gan, Luo Ji, Xiang Shuren, Gong Yi, Feng Mu, Sun Xuanang, Jiang Erniu...
Feng Mu expressionlessly turned off the screen of his phone, put it back into his trouser pocket, opened the door of the living room and let the light in, casting a long slanted shadow in the corridor.
Happy Chinese Valentine's Day, my dears.
Single people, don’t be afraid, Feng Mu will accompany you, muah~ (End of this chapter)
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