Qu Jian'er was unaware of Todd's question; she arrived at the mecha arena out of curiosity.
The spacious arena is located in a bustling area of the virtual planet, and due to years of fierce battles, it is filled with a menacing atmosphere.
So much so that when people come here, they can sense the sorrow of ordinary people who, because of the death of family or friends, utter incomprehensible monosyllable cries to the corpses.
only.
Even though it's dangerous here.
It did not stop humans from setting foot there.
Everyone is a gambler, fantasizing that they are one in a billion, believing they will be the lucky one to win the game and claim that coveted reward.
Qu Jian'er is here.
I have a feeling I'm going to lose money again.
This premonition is too strong.
So strong that Qu Jian'er didn't want to step onto the field.
She hesitated for a moment, then reluctantly went inside.
Perhaps Qu Jian'er's facial emotion management was too complex, Todd, who was always paying attention to Qu Jian'er, was quite surprised.
soon.
Qu Jian'er found the accommodation building next to the competition venue.
She showed the registration form and then received a password to open the room.
Just as I breathed a sigh of relief.
A commotion was coming from a restaurant not far away.
The premonition of financial loss grew stronger.
As Qu Jian'er rubbed her temples, pondering whether to go over, a scruffy-bearded, slovenly-dressed middle-aged man was pushed out by restaurant staff.
She glanced at the other person's face.
Then, I decisively walked over.
They stopped the restaurant staff from chasing them away.
Todd was even more surprised. According to his description of Qu Jian'er's inner thoughts, Qu Jian'er was definitely not the kind of person who would meddle in other people's business. If something happened, it would be good enough if she didn't cause trouble, let alone help.
But what's going on now?
Was its inner reflection analyzed incorrectly?
The restaurant staff glanced at Qu Jian'er and said, "I advise you not to meddle in other people's business. This guy has been freeloading for many years."
He was afraid that Qu Jian'er would misunderstand and think that the restaurant was acting arbitrarily and was prejudiced, so he told her about the slovenly uncle's various behaviors.
The restaurant staff added, "He's a lunatic. Every year before the mecha competition starts, he shows up and tries to dine and dash, muttering that someone will pay for him. I've been a waiter for years, and he's said that for just as many years, but it's never come true."
Qu Jian'er: "..."
The disheveled middle-aged man burped and said, "One day, someone will settle my bills!"
Qu Jian'er wanted to refute it, but she was powerless to do so, since the uncle himself had admitted that he had dined and dashed.
She took several deep breaths.
Qu Jian'er pressed down on the personal terminal and said to the restaurant staff, "Don't you think your words are contradictory? It's known that the virtual star won't allow ordinary people to just sit around doing nothing. If he really is a freeloader, wouldn't he be kicked out? If he often dine and dashes, why do you still allow him to continue eating?"
Seeing Qu Jian'er's earnest explanation, the restaurant staff hurriedly said, "Well... it's true that he ate and drank for free, everyone can testify that he was dining and dashing! As for why we didn't kick him out, the competition has rules that no human can be driven away before or after the competition starts, he's just taking advantage of a loophole!"
Upon hearing this...
Qu Jian'er knew that this freeloading uncle was very clever, having managed to exploit loopholes until now.
He remained unfazed even when discovered and pushed out of the restaurant; he's a rare talent.
Qu Jian'er asked helplessly, "How much?"
The restaurant staff were genuinely stunned: "What, you're planning to pay for him?"
He looked at Qu Jian'er as if she were a sucker; these days, there are actually people eager to play the role of a pushover.
Qu Jian'er repeated, "How much?"
A restaurant staff member said, "He comes to dine here every year around this time. I'll only charge for our family; this year it's 1583 Singapore dollars. Wait here, I'll go get his previous years' bills." (81cn.com)
Qu Jian'er: "..." There were previous years too?
Her heart was bleeding.
This is what it means to lose money.
It hurts so much.
Qu Jian'er, who was holding her forehead and not saying a word, did not notice the surprise of the robot on her shoulder, nor did she notice the complicated look in the eyes of the slovenly old man. All she felt was reluctance at the loss of money.
soon.
The restaurant staff are back.
He was accompanied by people from other shops.
The restaurant staff looked at the bill and calculated the money, reading out each item as it was calculated: "1583 + 2014 + 1890..."
Qu Jian'er's hand trembled slightly as she paid the bill; she had an urge to let others fend for themselves.
But when she thought about how the other person had a constitution she couldn't understand, she knew that such a person was either someone she had a close relationship with or a true big shot among like-minded people. No matter which one it was, she had to lend a hand.
Qu Jian'er resisted the urge to turn around and leave.
I paid the bill by scanning the QR code.
Upon seeing this.
People from other shops who had been "tortured" by the slovenly uncle for years quickly grabbed Qu Jian'er, preventing her from leaving.
final.
Qu Jian'er managed to escape after paying nearly 100,000 yuan. She looked at the people who were eating and drinking their fill and leaning against the roadside rest chairs.
She hadn't said anything yet.
The slovenly middle-aged man rolled over, making room for the other man: "Hey, you're out? Come on, sit down."
He ran his fingers through his half-length hair.
Then we discovered it.
Qu Jian'er pointed the camera at him and said while filming, "On December 31st, this person owes me Xingyuan."
Uncle Zuo's lips twitched.
He pretended to be ignorant even though he knew the truth.
Qu Jian'er put down her camera and stood still: "Tell me, what is your identity, sir?"
Uncle Zuo, with a shameless grin, said, "Girl."
Qu Jian'er interrupted, "Don't try to get too close to me."
Uncle Zuo: "..." What a cold-hearted person!
He scratched his head. Since the divorce, he had been away from home for years, only checking in once a year to let everyone know he was safe. He had never wanted to go back or see the Zuo family. It wasn't that he didn't miss them, but that he couldn't bear to.
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