Chapter 148 The Akina Mountain Speed King then chose a very ordinary and very common...
Restocking.
Actually, Jiang Yang noticed that the camera was running out of film, so he asked the trial assistant.
Of course, Jiang Yang asked the same question when he first joined Un Entertainment.
This time, however, it seemed to be a favor to a player who had lost all his memories; the trial assistant no longer had so many convoluted implications.
When Jiang Yang asked, "If the film runs out, can't we just reload it?"
Its answer was direct and concise: "Yes."
The fact that Jiang Yang was able to return to player mode so quickly after losing his memory also owes a great deal to it, in addition to the fact that Jiang Yang believed 007 was his wife.
The trial assistant's inner monologue: Hehe. That felt good.
Jiang Yang felt reassured and started using the service after receiving a definite answer. After all, finding a photo studio in a modern city shouldn't be that difficult.
He overlooked one thing: neither he nor 007 had any money on them.
No, there was twenty yuan that Little Fatty had given me. I took it out of my pocket, and before I could see any change, I felt a cold sensation like human skin.
It's as if it's reminding players that they ultimately don't belong in this city.
For a fleeting moment, 007 had a thought: "Should we sell the car?"
...That's very bold. Before Jiang Yang could say anything, the trial assistant hurriedly stopped her, "No, you won't be able to get a car back later..."
"Oh, so we can go back soon~"
...the trial assistant felt as if he had been manipulated...
Jiang Yang dislikes being controlled by others, so even if he seals his memories, he will take the initiative. The trial assistant also became one of his anchors after he lost his memory.
007 didn't react immediately, and leaned close to the person's ear to ask, "What's wrong?"
"It's okay, let's look around some more."
As the city grew noisier, Jiang Yang glanced at the navigation and finally rode his motorcycle away from the main road, turning into a quiet alley.
At the end of the alley, there is an old-fashioned photo studio.
The black and white portraits displayed in the shop window have a certain stagnation in their eyes, a feeling of being from a bygone era.
What attracted Jiang Yang was the "Job Opening" sign hanging at the entrance.
Pushing open the glass door, the bell hanging on it rang twice, attracting the thin, withered old man inside to look up.
The old man was wearing a dark apron stained with medicine, his reading glasses had slipped down to the tip of his nose, and he squinted for a while before realizing what was happening and asked, "Is something the matter?"
Jiang Yang handed over the miniature camera: "Do you have this kind of film?"
The old man didn't touch it, only glancing at it indifferently: "No."
"Do you have a cutting machine?"
"I won't help the referee."
After he finished speaking, the old man finally looked at Jiang Yang properly: "What's the point of using such an old relic?"
Minox LX Miniature Film Camera.
Jiang Yang raised an eyebrow: "For collection purposes, I suppose."
The old man got up and took an unopened box of film from the shelf: "Just don't cause me any more trouble."
60.
007 leaned against the counter, wondering how Jiang Yang would handle the situation.
Jiang Yang flashed a perfect eight-tooth grin: "Boss, can I work for you instead of paying you?"
"..."
The old man looked at him with disdain: "Can you even develop photos?"
"Give it a try."
Coincidentally, Jiang Yang did have two experiences during his years of growth in the No Man's Land where he had to develop photos himself while working undercover.
Under the dim red light in the darkroom, photos gradually emerged in the developing solution. Seeing that Jiang Yang was skilled at the operation, the old man went back to the shop to look after the business. As for 007, unable to help, he sat obediently next to Jiang Yang, neither speaking nor causing any trouble.
The old man came back halfway through, holding an old roll of film he had taken from a miniature camera.
Despite saying he wouldn't help with the cut, he still took the initiative to change the film and even instructed, "Develop these photos of yours too."
This time, 007 didn't sit idly by; he moved closer to Jiang Yang and stared intently at her actions.
As the photos were being developed, Jiang Yang picked one up with tweezers and examined it against the light.
In the picture, young Tirke and Tirke are wearing cloaks, their facial features are somewhat blurred, and a thick layer of snow can be vaguely seen on the ground.
The first few pictures were all from Un Entertainment, until I saw the fourth one where 007's pupils contracted.
That was when he and Jiang Yang saw the uncle off. Judging from the photo, the uncle must have noticed them following behind and stopped at the exit to wave to them.
Press the shutter button, and all falsehoods will have nowhere to hide under its lens.
All they could see at the time was fog, but the camera pierced through the fog to reveal its true appearance.
But the uncle died in the Well of Despair. The truth and the falsehood were intertwined, leaving behind only a photograph.
007 subtly observed Jiang Yang's expression, but fortunately, Jiang Yang had no recollection of it.
But Jiang Yang picked up the previous photo, which was supposed to be full of "blind people," and the youthful energy on the faces of the boys and girls burst out of the black and white film.
Jiang Yang asked, "Do you think this is true?"
007 doesn't understand.
Jiang Yang continued, speaking to himself, "There are opportunities in life to change one's destiny."
"Once I can't accept the outcome of something, I will use countless methods to change and correct it."
"Then the paradox arises: did it actually happen?"
"I have no idea."
"Because this is what the tower wanted me to see, but unfortunately I don't believe in the tower."
"I only believe in myself."
"I believe I will destroy it."
The image on the photographic paper was completely solidified, and hung up by clips, still damp with moisture, like rows of silent evidence.
The smell of the developing solution still lingered in my nose; it was noon.
When settling wages, besides the roll of pre-cut and packaged film, the old man counted out a few banknotes from the drawer and stuffed them into his hand: "Go on."
A pair of cloudy eyes gleamed behind his glasses. Jiang Yang didn't stand on ceremony, abandoning his playful demeanor, and said "thank you" with utmost seriousness.
"polite."
The old man waved his hand dismissively.
The midday sun was blinding. As the two stepped out of the store, Jiang Yang raised her hand to shield her brow bone and looked towards the direction of the Bell Tower Square.
Under the sunlight, the towering clock tower became an ordinary part of the city.
"We don't have time to wait for the next time."
Jiang Yang's voice was soft, but it carried an undeniable determination. If he waited any longer, he couldn't bet on what might happen at the clock tower in the dead of night.
007 asked, "How do you do it?"
Jiang Yang replied, "Go adjust the time."
There's more than one clock in Wutou City, there's another one, which Jiang Yang saw when he entered the trial.
At the train station.
...
In the Well of Despair.
Mr. Mirror "bounced" out of the seawater and crashed heavily back into the tunnel.
The air was thick with the smell of blood. Mr. Mirror clutched a deep, bone-revealing wound on his shoulder, dark red blood oozing from between his fingers.
He was just about to try to use his abilities to break through the barrier that separated him from the seawater, but the moment he entered, the human-faced fish that had been floating in the seawater surged toward him frantically.
The Hanged Man sat in the middle of the passageway, his cold gaze sweeping over Mr. Mirror's disheveled appearance from beneath his mask, a faint hint of impatience flashing in his eyes.
Foolish and self-righteous.
But at that moment, Huang Er, who had been keeping his head down, suddenly flashed a ruthless and resolute look in his eyes.
With a flash of cold light, the dagger that had been embedded in Jiang Yang's body was precisely thrust into Mr. Mirror while he was injured and unprepared.
Mr. Mirror turned around in disbelief, watching Huang Er sway as his body trembled, his eyes filled with astonishment and confusion.
The Hanged Man, feeling utterly exhausted, rubbed his temples without speaking, then turned his head and gave Mr. V, who was standing to the side, a meaningful look.
Mr. V pulled the trigger.
The shotgun, capable of killing vampires, blasted a large hole in Huang Er's chest, and blood gushed out.
Huang Er lay on the ground, a cigarette still dangling from his mouth.
He had thought that people would have a flashback before they died, but in reality, he didn't have time to think about anything; he only had time to breathe a sigh of relief.
A huge weight was lifted off my shoulders.
"gentlemen..."
The critically injured and dying Mr. Mirror struggled, reaching out to the Hanged Man, his eyes filled with a final plea: "Save...save me..."
The Hanged Man glanced at him from the corner of his eye, his gaze devoid of any warmth: "Useless thing."
As he spoke, he stood up from the ground and casually waved his hand. Mr. Mirror froze abruptly, his last breath extinguished, and he collapsed completely.
The Hanged Man turned to look at the door, his voice devoid of emotion: "The plan is about to change."
Mr. V put away his pistol and asked in confusion, "Since four people are going in, why is it necessary to kill Huang Er?"
If they don't eliminate Huang Er, they only need to win over one more person, since Xiong Bingxin is also involved in this trial.
“Xiong Bingxin will not be of any use to us.”
The Hanged Man, unable to offer any explanation, walked over to Mr. Mirror, bent down, and removed the dagger stuck in Mr. Mirror's back.
It has a copper-colored handle with a very small, easily overlooked number "4" engraved on it.
"However, he has kept it well hidden all these years right under my nose."
Huang Er, the head of the middleman's association, works for Gaota and has been diligent and conscientious for many years.
But to be more precise, he was from the South Fourth.
Train Zero was the first to welcome back their spiritual pillar, and the first to witness the intelligence and cunning of the youth in Un Entertainment.
Unfortunately, Huang Si went further and further astray on the path of saving him.
His left hand is his unwavering faith, and his right hand is the pillar he has held onto for so many years; he has always struggled with this internal conflict.
So he asked about the unclaimed book.
"what do I do?"
【die】
Each of them had a small knife with a purple copper handle. After Nan Sanheng died in an accident, Nan Yi used his talent to add a new function to their knives.
[Scenes of Death]
This well of despair, this long passage, that pitch-black door—he believed in his faith.
Then, at a very ordinary moment, he calmly faced his death.
It's as if this is his destiny.
On the leaderboard of No Man's Land, Huang Er's name disappeared into the gray, and the [Death] card that Huang Si had poured into Huang Er also vanished.
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