Mecha Soldier's Notes

() "Hey, Chen Xiang, Chen Xiang, what do you tell me to say about you? I am a little more relaxed and block the street to fight. The beating is still a minor. If you really want to fight so much, I can fight with you , what are you doing?"

Captain Hu, whom I hadn't seen for a long time, felt heartbroken for me through the iron fence.

"Please, Boss, if you don't believe me, I'll hang myself. It's obvious that they took out my wallet. I'm already very tolerant."

I yelled that I was wronged, and the heavy handcuffs and shackles rattled in a wide range of movements, causing the surrounding policemen to pull out their guns nervously.

What are you doing, I won't transform into Ultraman.

"The problem is that what everyone sees is your 'big handwriting'. The video, confession, certification, and physical evidence are all available, and the victim is still in a deep coma. It all intuitively shows that you have committed serious violence. The instructor and I After talking for a long time, people don’t believe it.”

Captain Hu scratched his hair itchyly.

"I'll negotiate with the instructor again to see if I can release you on bail. Please calm down next time."

Captain Hu sighed, grabbed the hat beside him and left.

The result was very unlucky. The police insisted on detaining me for the full [-]-day detention period on the grounds that the influence was too bad. It was useless for the two chief officers to say anything.

fifteen days?Come on, it's less than a month before the real machine simulation confrontation, I'm not familiar with the machine yet, won't I be useless after half a month?

Very helpless, I had no choice but to register and get my number plate and bedding, and go to my cell with the vicious prison guard who looks like a gangster.

My cell is very deep. It is in the deepest corner of the prison. There are no lights, no one, and even the camera is tilted to one side. There is no movement. It is dark and depressing. Not to mention, even the air does not flow very much. To be honest, when I go there My first reaction was that this buddy was either trying to make money and kill him, or he was definitely going to make money and kill him.

But the strange thing is that the prison guard standing in front of the iron gate didn't go straight in, but knocked on the door respectfully twice before unlocking it.

To be honest, the feeling of entering a cell for the first time is very tense, ten times more tense than entering a women's dormitory, because you can't even imagine what kind of top-quality goods are waiting for you inside, and this ghostly place is so weird... Is it a perverted murderer with countless lives, a vicious gangster, a cruel gang leader, or simply... a "good comrade" with that habit?I rely on!

I swear that if it is the last option, I will beat him to death even if I spend my life in prison for a few years.

After straightening my belt, I dared to go in with the prison guard, but the guy turned around and cursed me head-on:

"Stop, idiot, has no one taught you that you have to take off your shoes when entering Mr. Polkarev's room?!"

Damn, who will teach this kind of thing, why do you have to go through such trouble in the cell.

Depressedly, I squatted down and unfastened the straps of my army boots, and then threw the double-kilogram leather products into the shoe cabinet, stuffing the small space full, only to be scolded again.

"Are you an idiot, who told you to throw it in there, outsiders can just put it at the door..."

"Okay, Mr. Anthony, don't bother, just come in and talk if you have something to do."

From the depths of the cell came a peaceful male voice, which seemed to be uttered by an old man in his sixties, which made me feel a little relieved.

It was only then that I noticed that this prison cell had been remodeled. The place where I came in was a place like the entrance of a home. Although the layout was simple, it was exquisite. To seek a private house.The main room of the cell was still separated by a homemade brown wooden door, so it was impossible to see what was inside.

Let me go, is this the legendary VIP cell dedicated to the rich and powerful?

The prison guard responded respectfully, glared at me, led me to continue walking in, tried to control the force and knocked on the door twice, and carefully opened it after getting permission.

What appeared in front of my eyes was a small room of about [-] square meters. The floor was covered with soft South Asian handmade carpets, and the surrounding walls were redecorated with handmade lacquered wood panels, full of oil paintings of unknown meaning. On the roof is a bronze chandelier exuding a classical atmosphere, swaying slightly with the airflow poured in from the vent.

An old man in his sixties is sitting upright on the sofa, with a black tea quilt in his hand, and a "virtual remote sensing device" similar to glasses on the bridge of his nose. Nod or shake your head slightly, and continue with the previous action.

I don't know why, but the luxurious word "noble" jumped out of my mind in an instant.

"Hello, Mr. Polkarev, I'm very sorry to interrupt your lunch break."

The prison guard said respectfully and even flatteringly, making the person sitting across from him look like his father.

"You are too polite, Mr. Anthony, you are the administrator here, if you need to work, you can come at any time without disturbing the problem."

The old man stretched out his dry hand like a dying tree branch, and took off the device on the bridge of his nose, revealing a picture that has been through the vicissitudes of life, but it reveals a uniqueness that can only be found after years of long carving, as different as the artworks of the old century. An ordinary, luxurious face.

It doesn't matter if you say it like this, the prison guards are so terrified that they can hardly stand up straight, and they nod and bow like a semi-automatic robot:

"No, no, Mr. Polkarev, no one here dares to be so rude to you, but it's really a little difficult to come here today," the prison guard glanced at me and continued, "We just accepted a detainee today, but All the cells are almost full, and there is really no room, so.....so we want to leave this guy with you for a while, oh, don't worry, we will get him away in a few days, this guy also It's not a particularly bad prisoner, and it won't bother you for too long."

"Mr. Anthony, you are too serious. This cell is the property of your prison. I am just a tenant here. Of course, it is understandable for you to arrange personnel.

Polkarev smiled politely, but I noticed that his eyes were not smiling at all, they were still as cold as water.

The prison guard, as if begging for a bone from his master, said "yes" a few times with a flattered expression, then wiped his face and changed into a ferocious expression like a mad dog and stared at me.

"Be careful boy, if you mess up, be careful that I will kill you."

After leaving a word of threat, the jailer bowed and retreated, leaving me and the old man face to face. I felt that the old man's eyes seemed to be looking me up and down all the time, but I was too lazy to take care of this normal reaction.

"Where is my bed?"

"There is a hard bed in the corner, but it hasn't been used for a long time. I suggest you clean it up."

Polkarev said flatly, his eyes still on me.

As if to get rid of the uncomfortable thread, I picked up the heavy bag and threw it on the hard bed he said, causing dust to fly. As the guy said, it’s been a long time since I Been sleeping.

"Where is the water, a rag or something will do."

"It's right next door, except for the ones I hang on the rack, you can use whatever you want."

There was a hint of dissatisfaction in the old man's calm voice, like a snake swimming under the water.

He seemed a little unhappy.

But come on, I haven't messed with him yet. Could it be that this guy has disliked me since he walked in?What the hell are you doing today? It’s rare for me to want to be a good citizen. Why are they all coming to my door to die!

I was thinking about getting a towel from the bathroom, which was decorated like a middle-class residence, soaked it in water and wrung it dry, and then lay on the bed to dry it out. I felt that the old man was still staring at me from a distance. , I picked up the teacup in the middle, tried a few times and finally failed to drink it, sighed and stood up and walked slowly behind me.

At first I thought that this old bone would come to me for solo practice, but I soon realized that something was wrong, because he just stood one step away from me without moving or making a sound, and he was still changing angles from side to side. Keep looking at something.

Could it be... this old ghost wants to stab my ass? !

I was so stimulated by this absurd idea that my scalp would explode, I swallowed and slowly turned my head, trying to squeeze out a smile that was uglier than crying.

"Well, what's the matter?"

The old man was silent, and seemed to incorporate all the language into this action.

After a long time, he sighed and said:

"Young man, your crotch zipper is not open."

I rely on!

I jumped up in shock, and hurriedly glanced down, and sure enough, I found that my "big front door" was open, and I could see the scene inside at a glance.

But wait, what is this?

"From just now... because of this."

I asked stammeringly.

Polkarev nodded gravely.

I felt like I was about to pass out. This old man is too concerned about the details, but thinking about it, the person who can decorate the cell like this in prison is out of ten.

"Remember the boy, no matter where you go, you must pay attention to details, otherwise you will be in bad luck."

The old man taught.

"There is an old saying in the East that goes, 'A great event is accomplished regardless of its small details'..."

I'm still being stubborn.

"Are you doing something big?"

The old man stared at me coldly, his camera-like gaze made me feel dizzy in my heart.

So I honestly shook my head.

"Then start small."

The old man snorted after finishing speaking, and went back to the sofa to recuperate with his hands behind his back.

My face was very hot, so I immediately zipped up the zipper as fast as possible, because I almost got my skin stuck. Since then, I have fallen into a habit that I don’t know if it’s good or bad: from time to time, I lower my head and look down. Glance down.