Wu Sheng Lu Mingfei of the Dragon Clan

Chapter 57 Cowboy
Walking into the bell tower, climbing up the steps, and pushing open the small creaking wooden door, you seem to have passed from day to night in an instant.

The residence of this night watchman is so appropriate to his title, the heavy curtains are tightly drawn, not even a ray of sunlight can break in, except for the fluorescent light from the huge old-fashioned TV lock in the center of the room, total darkness.

The night watchman spent years and years in such a dark room. He spent all the funds allocated by Kassel and the professor's subsidy to buy whiskey, cola, French fries and small alpine discs. Some things are even comparable to Oxford Dictionaries. Video cassettes, you can only find similar antiques in the audio-visual stores of the last century. They were eliminated after the advent of VCD technology more than [-] years ago, and the only people who still have cassettes are old people as old as him.

The vice-principal is exactly that.

I think he was also a handsome man with a high nose bridge and deep eye sockets. Walking around on the beach in France, he would receive a stack of notes with lipstick printed on them, even enough to write 1234 on the notes to play a game of Texas Hold'em.

But now, in the words of the vice principal, the Goddess of Time is a bitch.

Oh no, my God, that's vulgar.

Must be a whore.

Who would have thought that this scruffy old man, who was stuck on the sofa watching cowboy movies of the last century, was the Leonardo who fascinated thousands of girls back then.

Take a look, our handsome alchemist's belly is just this size, to put it bluntly, I bet it's a boy!

Today, the Night's Watch continues with his daily routine.

The cowboy on TV has a beauty in one hand and a revolver in the other, with a wild and handsome smile.

He was as handsome as I was when I was young.

thought the vice-principal.

He grabbed the whiskey with his oily hands again, it was so slippery that it almost fell to the ground, he hurried to catch it, it was such a good wine, he would feel so bad if he spilled a drop.

The door opened.

When Hilbert Jean Angers, the headmaster of Kassel, the contemporary leader of the Secret Party, and the living legendary dragon slayer, saw his dear deputy headmaster.

The master alchemist was prostrate on the ground in a strange posture, holding the wine bottle tightly with his hands in front of him, and his buttocks were raised high. Angers suddenly remembered an ancient etiquette in the Far East called five-body throwing.

The two looked at each other in silence.

"There's no need to be so generous."

Anger felt that he should say something, flat body, the vice-principal's posture seemed to be quite appropriate, but he always felt that there was something weird about it.

"Have you ever heard of yoga?"

It is rare for the vice-principal to be so serious. The last time Angers saw him so serious was when he was a judge at the Kassel Swimsuit Beauty Contest last year, saying that beauty should not be desecrated, and then he would give high marks to any girl with less fabric, and sat down. Fingalla next to him couldn't hold back.

Wait, Fingal, didn't that guy graduate early?
Angers felt that he might have made a mistake in his memory. After all, he is 130 years old, and it is inevitable that the old man's memory has some problems.

The vice-principal struggled to get up, moved his feet, and walked a distance of one meter like Lu Mingfei, a junior high school boy who barely ran a marathon, and then fell back into the soft embrace of the sofa.

It reminded him of the wonderful experience of hugging girls when he was young, soft and plump and elastic, ah, it was wonderful.

I'm going to die on the couch.

The vice-principal swears to the truth again, alchemist, the person who swears must be different, everyone else is God Jesus Jade Emperor, he is the truth, highlighting a style.

Angers glanced back and forth at the night watchman's hut, and was in a dilemma for a while, let alone a chair to sit on, and there was not even a place to put his feet down. He picked up a magazine at his feet and read the cover clearly by the light of the TV. .

An obscene voice that men can understand came from the sofa.

"Good taste, old chap."

Principal Fu winked at him.

"That Playboy book is my treasure. The cover girl's figure is really impressive, isn't she? For the sake of the truth, as long as you sign my project application, this treasure will be yours."

Angers shrugged.

"Come on, it's just a magazine, why don't I invite beautiful female students to have afternoon tea?"

"asshole!"

The vice-principal was actually angry, like a sloth whose sleep was disturbed. It was hard to imagine where the point of his anger was.

"You don't call me when you invite a female student to drink tea!"

I understand, if this is the reason, you should be angry.

"You butcher, executioner!"

"Sooner or later you will go to hell!"

Angers put down the magazine.

"Go to hell, I'm already prepared."

The vice-principal sneered, sank into the sofa again, and took a sip of whiskey.

"Come on, my dear old man, since you won't agree to grant funds for me, a poor old man, what are you going to do here?"

"The end of the world is still four years away, don't worry, don't worry."

As he talked he laughed and hummed a Scottish folk tune which he had learned from a girl with a charming smile, and it was a memorable evening.

But soon he stopped laughing.

"see this."

Regardless of the vice-principal's yelling, Angers cruelly took out the cassette from the projector, and inserted it into a USB flash drive.

In order to make it easier to watch DVDs, the vice-principal ordered Kassel’s equipment department to build a projector with powerful and complete functions. It can not only play cassettes, DVDs, and U disks, but also act as bombs when necessary. Not to mention how powerful it is , It is more than enough to blow up the bell tower.

Of course, the vice-principal doesn't want the latter function, but what can I do? It's an equipment department that can transform a passport into a miniature bomb and a lighter into an electric welding torch. What else do you want.

"Damn it, my dear Sergeant Jack is about to duel with the dirty gangster, do you know what you are doing, butcher!"

"Be quiet."

Angers put his index finger to his lips.

"Please see."

The file is read by the projector, the data is sent over the wire, and soon the picture appears on the screen.

In a hall, it looked like a dojo, with a young man standing in the center surrounded by warriors kneeling in a circle.

"What is this, the beginning of a kung fu movie?"

The vice principal sneered.

"I said old man, your taste is really indescribable, and cowboy movies are classics."

"Aha, look what I said, it's hard to say, idiom, I'm such a genius."

The screen continues.

Slowly, the smile on the vice principal's face faded away.

This is, one against ten.

No, more.

He, Leonardo, used to be a well-known mixed race, not to mention that there was an old buddy who was a legendary dragon slayer. He had seen countless battles, so his natural vision was here.

The vice-principal could see that the boy in the picture did not win by relying on strength far beyond ordinary people like a mixed race.

He is pure skill.

A technique so perfect it's almost an art.

(End of this chapter)