death of hope

Chapter 8 "Flying Windfall" (8) Banknotes

An easy and cheap way to celebrate,

Roy opened the refrigerator and opened a can of orange soda with a price tag of 0.25 yuan. He drank it clean in two gulps, and his mouth was filled with the taste of xylitol and artificial flavor.

The carbon dioxide reached his throat, he hiccupped, and the heat in his body was taken away by more than half in an instant.

Just like the slogan printed on the drink, it is cool and comfortable, and I feel very comfortable, just lying on the bed naked, laughing wildly like a madman.

Somehow, a high-pitched electronic buzzing sounded in his ears that sounded like an antique FM radio.

(Something's wrong, there's obviously no alcohol in the soda, so what's the matter with the drunkenness now? Things are a little blurry.)
Sit down on the toilet, cover your head with your hands,
Whether it's the ambient light in the capsule hotel box or the smell of feces he just made, they all seem so psychedelic, as if reminding Roy:
(Don't be so damn pretty, poor man, it's all a dream!)
Roy flushed the toilet, washed his face, and then slapped himself two big mouths in front of the mirror,

"Be sober and stop daydreaming, you bastard!"

Looking at the red palm prints on his cheeks, Roy grinned;
"Hahahaha! The poor have really become rich suddenly, this is not a dream... I am a new upstart in York City!"

Turn on the TV built into the wall, and a vulgar reality show is playing on the program, and the sons and daughters of rich families are showing off their luxury cars to the camera.

Another bottle of 0.25 yuan orange soda was poured, and the chocolate with a price tag of 0.5 yuan was also torn off the package and eaten. The peanut sandwich inside was quite satisfying.

The things in the hotel are much more expensive than in the supermarket, and he would never be willing to part with them in normal times. Roy gradually calmed down, thinking about what to do next.

(There's no need to be too frugal now, but you can't spend money lavishly, it will definitely attract attention.

First go to apply for interstellar immigration qualifications for yourself and Anna, and continue to work in the factory during the review period. There are so many eyes staring at you. If you don’t keep it all, someone who is jealous will report it. Poor ghosts have to look like poor ghosts. . )
The other channel broadcasts the hottest reality show recently,

Because of family disputes, brothers and sisters fought for the inheritance, the audience not only did not persuade the fight but applauded, the reality show was really vulgar and boring, so he pressed the remote control to change the program.

Yorktown Six is ​​broadcasting the classic old TV series "The Espionage", which is Roy's favorite.

The protagonist of the movie is a spy who steals business secrets and is evading the pursuit of corporate fighters. As he watched, Roy suddenly remembered something that scared him into a cold sweat.

Imitating the plot in the movie, he opened the lockbox again, dumped all the money inside on the bed, and carefully searched for each stack of money, in case someone hollowed it out and hid something in it, but it turned out to be a false alarm.

Roy still felt uneasy, and began to grope for the sponge filled inside the suitcase. What worried him still happened, and his fingers touched something hard.

He destroyed the sponge with scissors, and found a small metal box embedded in the inner layer of the box, and the small light beads on it were still flashing red.

At this time, the indoor temperature displayed on the screen of the central air conditioner is 24 degrees Celsius, which is the most comfortable temperature for the human body.

But Roy felt icy cold and trembling all over, as if he was in a world of ice and snow.

(There is no doubt that the metal locket is a satellite locator, and at any moment armed gangsters could break into the capsule hotel, kill him, and collect the money.)
"No...you can't let those bastards succeed, this is my money! I got it with all my might!"

Roy muttered to himself, he was more afraid of money being taken away than death, and he was already afraid of poverty in his life.

(Thanks to watching TV, I remembered it, otherwise I would have hung up.)
Putting on clothes, the pistol was still slanted in the belt, the money was poured into the plastic shopping bag of the supermarket, and the other hand was holding an empty lockbox.

It was already late at night, and the proprietress had already rested. The person at the front desk was a little girl with a nose ring and dyed purple hair.

"I'm checking out."

Roy took out the room card and threw it towards the counter.

The little girl was playing a video game and didn't look up at him at all.
Just "Oh." After pressing the keyboard a few times, he took back the room card and said, "It has been logged out, welcome to visit next time."

Pushing open the glass door, the bitter wind hit his face directly, and it was wet and cold outside. Roy tightened his coat, put on the hood, and walked alone in the dark alley.

When I came to the street, I saw a lit trash can. Several ragged homeless men were squatting beside it to keep warm. One of them said:
"Hey, sir, do me a favor and give me some change."

"no!"

"Don't go, you can give me two steel coins, my buddies don't mind."

"You nasty poor man, stay away from me and find a job!"

"What the fuck... what did you say?"

Several vagrants gathered around with broken wine bottles, and the leader threatened, "Boy, throw your wallet here, and this matter will be over."

"I don't have a wallet, we only have this." Roy drew out his automatic pistol, and the other party was so frightened that he turned around and ran away.

"Hmph, it's still a good thing. I should have brought one with me long ago. I didn't have to suffer so much before!"

After turning a few corners, I found a large row of motorcycles parked on the street. It was a gathering of drag racing parties. These people looked extremely tough, and the women were all muscular and had barbarian hairstyles.

Roy tried his best to stay away from them, but he still felt malicious eyes staring at him and at the shopping bag.

So he quickened his pace, and touched the handle of the pistol with his hand in his pocket, which made him feel a little relieved, and muttered in a low voice;

"There are a lot of idlers in this city. They don't have to go to work and don't sleep. It's no wonder that the law and order are good."

The glare headlights shot from behind. Looking back, it was a dirty and dilapidated garbage removal truck. The driver was a country bumpkin with a beard in a plaid shirt.

On the iron plate on the side of the car, the words "Sr. John Straucher Garbage Removal Company" were written.

Bags of household garbage are piled up in the semi-open compartment.

Flies buzzed, and every time the wheels bumped on the bad road, the loose car parts made a "boom...boom" sound.

Roy moved his shoulders slightly, threw the combination box into the car, and watched the taillights of the garbage truck disappear into the fog, which was the direction of the suburbs.

His brain is full of ideal scenes;
The gang members followed the tracker signal to find the crushed lockbox from the stinking landfill,
The boss who was the leader cursed angrily, and the younger brothers shot at the garbage pile to vent their anger, scaring the rubbish rubbish out of their heads.

(End of this chapter)