Abyss Train

Chapter 804 Dressed Beast

[Part ①·Soft bones]

Jim Crow was the boss of the Curio Collection.

In addition, he is also a big shot in the Perfume Bottle Gang, a staff officer around the leader, a shrewd lobbyist who is like a fish in water in the business world, and a state legislator in Arizona.

He is thirty-six years old this year, young and promising, with a plump figure and a big belly.

His hair had gone with the wind, and the most striking feature on his body was a fierce arrow scar on his face. If your memory serves you well, back to the volume [Invincible], Damian Katz, the curator of the Museum of Curiosities on Cruise Ship No. 4, who worked for George Joshua, used the pseudonym Jim Crow more than two hundred years ago.

Jim Crow is meeting with three people tonight.

One of them is the famous writer David Victor.

The other is the unknown sheriff, Jack Martin.

The last one is a yellow man of unknown origin - Vincent, or Wen Bucai.

He learned from the housekeeper where these three people came from - they bought tickets together, entered the auditorium of the Museum of Curiosities, and then split into three groups, each visiting a different venue.

  Another point is particularly important!

This is what Mr. Jim cares about most!

According to the ticket seller, Vincent, a yellow Chinese worker, wore a wide-brimmed hat with parrot feathers on his head, which looked very much like Sullivan Okopela's hat.

But Jim Crow kept this information secret and never mentioned it to anyone in the Perfume Bottle Gang again.

He was restless, like an ant in a hot pot. Since the gang could no longer contact Sullivan, the leader had been unable to sleep or eat, and ordered everyone to search for Sullivan, but refused to explain the reason.

The clever Mr. Jim immediately realized that Sullivan was likely dead.

Sullivan, the young red-haired boy, has always been the leader's loyal and confidant assistant.

Therefore, the leader will deliver the [arrow] to Sullivan Okopela.

This person's soul power [Thyme] can grant ordinary people extraordinary physiques, and can also be combined with [Arrows] to screen out excellent seeds and absorb stronger, more outstanding, and more loyal talents into the Perfume Bottle Gang.

The areas under the jurisdiction of each cadre of the entire gang need the coordination and adjustment of Sullivan's [Thyme], just like the gentle town in the commercial street, which relies on the power of [Thyme] to operate 24 hours a day without sleep.

Mr. Jim thought of it immediately.

  ——Now Sullivan is dead. The whereabouts of the [arrow] are unknown. If I, Jim Crow, can get the [arrow], can I completely eliminate the leader and become the owner of the perfume bottle? Become George Joshua's right-hand man! Climb up along this road! Go to the center of power in the United States of America!

Obviously, Jim was moved. He couldn't suppress his inner desire and was aroused by the rich [meaty aroma].

But before meeting these three guests, the boss still had a box to open.

This is a very sacred thing. When a new product meets its owner for the first time, it is necessary to choose a comfortable and quiet time to hold this ceremony.

In the office, Mr. Jim only left the butler and kicked out all the other security personnel and lackeys.

The coated paper of the wooden box still smelled of straw. His thick, fat fingers stroked the box, and Jim's eyes were greedy and erotic.

"Yao, come here, come closer, and look at it with me."

The housekeeper's last name is Yao. This housekeeper Yao is also a Chinese, who looks to be about fifty years old, thin, wearing a scissor-tailed suit, giving people a sense of elegance and simplicity, with a braid - he works for Jim and is willing to work hard.

The old butler stood still, holding the red towel, and asked.

"Master, you wanted me to step forward? To stand with you? To step on the steps? To stand right in front of the boss's desk? Right?"

Jim Crow: "Of course! How can you share this joy with me if you don't come?"

The old butler was very cautious and asked again: "Master, I want to confirm with you again, are you telling the truth? Or are you kidding me? I am a slave, a lowly yellow-skinned person, what qualifications do I have to stand in the same position with you?"

Mr. Jim became a little impatient and waved his strong right arm, trying to catch the pedantic yet loyal butler.

"I won't whip you! I won't ask you to be shot, this time I'm serious! I'm happy from the bottom of my heart! Sullivan is dead, it's a good thing he died, and his [arrow] is about to fall into my hands, it's a happy event, I should find an old friend I can trust to celebrate with me!"

The old butler followed his master's orders and quickly climbed the two steps to the boss's chair. His legs softened and he knelt down unconsciously.

Jim asked angrily and amusedly: "If you don't stand up, how can you see it? See my new treasure?!"

Butler Yao knelt down and explained, "Master, you can take the box down... so I can see it. But I will never be equal to you, Master."

Jim cursed, "You want me to bow my head? Be as servile as you?!"

"No... I don't mean that." Butler Yao changed his words and tone, and asked in a more relaxed and playful tone: "I need a chair that allows me to see it when I kneel down."

Jim yelled, "What trouble!"

  Then, something unexpected happened!

As Jim Crow put his palms together, a shadow slowly emerged from this fat and strong body - the psychic tide caused the temperature to drop rapidly, the tablecloth became wet, and a layer of frost condensed on the wooden table.

If Jack Martin were present, he would certainly regard this phenomenon as the work of a ghost.

On the other side, Butler Yao's legs stretched and extended strangely, deformed and twisted, and actually turned into two slender hooves.

The sturdy animal feet allowed Butler Yao to see what was on the table even when he was kneeling.

  The master and the servant looked at the exquisite little wooden box.

Mr. Jim used his strong finger strength to pry open the twelve nails on the wooden box, and then used his bare hands to crush the glue that held the box together.

While doing these things, he was very careful, as if treading on thin ice, for fear of damaging the contents of the box.

After all this rummaging, a Samuel Colt "Walker" revolver was found lying quietly in the middle of the box, among a pile of brackets and grass leaves.

Cold metallic color, shiny cylinder and hammer group.

The barrel has tough lines and the center axis has a delicate polished texture.

A hint of rust-proof sewing machine oil wafting through the air.

All this made Mr. Jim unable to bear to pick it up.

He was afraid that the sweat and grease from his hands would cause this delicate work of art to rust.

In this era, the perfume bottle gang was still using double-action fulminate of mercury gunpowder rifles.

After being specially adjusted by a Texas Ranger captain, the improved revolver uses fixed-charge bullets - it is simply the dream of every Western man.

"Especially this one!" Jim Crow described it vividly: "In addition to the military version of firearms supplied to the state government army, I customized this one from the owner of the weapons company. It is a weapon tailored according to my palm, my knuckles, and everything about me. It is scientific! It is advanced! It is the fastest killing weapon in the world! One shot can kill a Mexican bastard and his horse together!"

He picked up his beloved gun and explained it to the sleepy Butler Yao.

"Look at the marks of engraving and acid washing. The name of my first love is written on it."

"Look at the grappling hooks. They are made of silver. Even if they are stained with blood, it doesn't matter. Silver can kill viruses."

"Let's take a look at its selling price... Yao? Yao! Are you listening?"

The old butler finally woke up from his dream and opened his eyes wide.

"Oh! Oh! Master, I'm listening! You want me to see the price, but I can't read English... You only allow me to speak and listen, but not to write and read. Now I can only write my own name. I can't read the contract, let alone sign it..."

Jim Crow yelled, pointing to the price tag in the wooden box.

"It's worth three hundred dollars!"

The old butler was horrified: "Three hundred dollars?!"

Jim nodded. "Yes! Three hundred dollars!"

The old butler: "The leader will scold you again if he knows you spend so much money. Master, you must hide this gun well... Three hundred dollars, the president has to work for ten years to get this much salary..."

Jim frowned: "You said this is my fault?"

The old butler quickly shook his head: "That's the gun's fault."

Jim denied it flatly: "No! It's definitely not the gun's fault. It's so beautiful! So perfect! If I couldn't afford it, it would be my fault! But I bought it!"

The old butler: "Is it the leader's fault..."

"Yes! Yao!" Jim squatted down, grabbed the old butler's hair with one hand, and put the old butler's forehead close to himself, "It's the leader's fault..."

The old butler looked at his master in confusion.

Mr. Jim looked at the servant with a firm gaze.

Jim: "It's all the chief's fault."

Old housekeeper: "He..."

Jim criticized the leader.

"He was so rich, but he only gave me so little money for activities every month. I could see the monthly bills of the theater and the museum of curiosities clearly, and I had a clear idea of ​​how much profit they could generate. But every time I wanted to use the money to buy privileges, buy women, buy real estate, and buy more slaves, the leader would secretly hinder me -" "-I wanted to set up a [Jim Crow private army], and the newly recruited young people either became Sullivan's students or died in casinos and drinking tables due to various accidents."

"——In the end, only you can stay with me safely."

"——Only you, Yao, only you, a fifty-year-old old man, a slave, a loyal old dog who can't read or write."

Butler Yao replied apologetically: "Master, I often feel guilty about my incompetence."

Mr. Jim put his beloved gun into the holster on his side and stood up. "But it's different now."

He explained the interests involved to his servants and then gave orders.

"The Chief lost his most loyal Sullivan Okopela, and he also lost the [Arrow] that created the superpowered. This is the best chance my Jim will ever have."

"I want you to receive Jack Martin and David Victor, no matter what their relationship with Vincent is, try to delay them, use the best service and the best girls to keep them, strip them of their clothes, pack up all their luggage, and if you find the [arrow], send it to me immediately-"

"—if they mention [the arrow], kill them before the sound gets out!"

Butler Yao: "Why do you want to kill them?"

"Are you a fool?" Jim cursed. "Let the other members of the Perfume Bottle Gang know that the [Arrow] is in my territory! I will never have a chance to kill the leader again!"

Butler Yao nodded in confusion: "Mention [arrow], kill immediately."

"Yes!" Jim said immediately, "I'm going to meet Vincent. Sullivan's hat is in Vincent's hand, and the arrow must be in his hand too! I must get the arrow before anyone else, even if I break one or two arms or legs, or get seriously injured, it doesn't matter..." "As long as I get it, I can run away, hide far away, gather a group of like-minded partners, and ask the leader for all the debts he owes me over the years! I can find Lord Joshua and ask him to change an agent."

……

……

  [Part②·Roulette game]

Curio House Circus.

Jack, holding a handful of popcorn, had just finished watching a performance of a tiger jumping through a ring of fire. He squeezed out of the crowd and headed for the next amusement spot with satisfaction.

……

……

Curiosity House·Human Zoo.

David Victor stood outside the iron cage, holding a shorthand notebook, staring indifferently at the Bondu Igorot in the cage.

He spoke very slowly, reciting the various characteristics of the different races, recording them silently while transcribe them into text, striving to be completely truthful.

After recording, go to the next cage of Selknam Indians and repeat the recording work.

Mr. Victor looked into the distance and saw many slaves or natives of different races and skin colors, locked up in separate living areas and displayed to the public like animals.

Further away, there are large stores of gun companies that provide services such as human experiments to test the lethality of guns, and the targets for shooting are also these natives.

The Curio House and the Grand Casino.

Vincent placed the hat as a bet in the center of the large round table.

This gorgeous and exquisite hat attracted the attention of many gamblers.

In the eyes of the punters, this yellow man should have been kept in a cage in a human zoo.

"Let's play Death Roulette."

Mr. Vincent's goal is clear. As long as he shows this hat, the cadres of the Perfume Bottle Gang will come to him one after another.

"One bullet at a time."

Press the pistol onto the round table.

"No cheating."

The bullets lined up.

"No cheating."

Put the gold coins, stolen from Jack Martin's bag.

"One gold coin, plus a hat."

Vincent glanced at the gamblers around him who were ready to make a move.

"The one who is alive wins."

Immediately a shrewd gambler came up.

The gambler was in high spirits, smiling broadly, revealing his large gold teeth. He almost said, "A stranger? Looks like a stranger?"

Vincent: "You want to bet with me?"

"Of course!" The gambler spread all his money on the table, took out a bet of equal value, and put up US dollar bills of equal value to the gold coins on the table, and then raised the bet again, cunningly shouting, "But... you go first, I'll raise the bet five times, so I have to use five bullets."

Without saying a word, Vincent loaded four new bullets into the revolver, a total of five bullets. He swung the cylinder hard, and the rotating roller made a crisp sandy sound - until it stopped, everyone held their breath and watched this crazy Chinese man point the muzzle of the gun at his own temple.

"boom!--"

The gunfire singed Vincent's hair near his ears.

  The bullet just shattered, as if it was crushed by the bare hands of some strong ghost!

"You..." The gambler who followed the bet looked extremely upset, "How dare you cheat?!"

Vincent pushed the money on the table together to form the funds for the next round of gambling, and then handed the gun to the gambler, "It's your turn."

The gambler who called the bet suddenly stopped talking.

He looked at the four remaining bullets in the magazine, and then saw the stack of banknotes and gold coins on the table. He felt a painful feeling that he couldn't let go.

He wanted to grab the gun and kill this despicable yellow man, but the fanatical eyes of the gamblers around him and their impatient urging words made it impossible for him to do so. It was as if he was on a torture device and was about to be executed.

He gritted his teeth and couldn't bear to part with the gold, so he picked up the gun and turned the cylinder hard before it stopped.

——Close your eyes and leave your fate to the gods.

  [Bang!--]

Flames and blood splashed on the enthusiastic gamblers, and a life was lost.

Vincent shouted loudly and gathered the winnings in front of him.

"Next person!"

At this moment——

—Mr. Jim just caught up.

He asked security to clear out all irrelevant people.

He was five feet away from Vincent, sitting in the owner's seat at the gaming table.

His expression was cautious, and he tried his best to give people a friendly feeling between his brows.

Jim said, "You must be very short of money, Oriental."

Vincent: "No. I have only one purpose for this trip, to seek revenge on the cadres of the Perfume Bottle Gang - are you?"

Jim added: "Revenge also requires money..."

Vincent: "My companions said that during my lunch break today, I shouted "revenge" fifty-four times and "perfume bottle" two hundred and eight times in my dream. It seems that you scumbags are too attractive to me and haunt me."

Jim: "The perfume bottle must owe you a lot of money."

Vincent: "It has nothing to do with money. I feel like I'm tied up by an invisible chain. If my desire for revenge is not satisfied, I will have an inexplicable hunger that forces me to take action. I will not be free until I kill all the superpowers who persecute my fellow countrymen."

When everyone has left, all the innocent people who are doing good things have gone away.

"I understand you, Vincent, I am not good at writing." So said Jim Crow. "Freedom can't be bought with money, but it can be sold for money."

  [Real name: Jim Crow]

[Origin:? ? ? ]

[Soul Power: The Beast]

[Destructive power:? ? ? ]

[speed:? ? ? ]

[Range: ? ? ? ]

[Sustainability: ? ? ? ]

[Precision:? ? ? ]

[Growth:? ? ? ]

[Note: Jim Crow comes from "Jim Crowism" - literally translated as racial segregation and racial discrimination. It is the name of a black character in a play written by American playwright TD Rice in 1828. Later, it gradually became a derogatory title for black people and a synonym for the racial segregation suffered by black people. Jim Crowism got its name from this.]

(End of this chapter)