Miss Planeswalker, Are You Free to Fall in Love?

Moriyuesha didn't want to wait here, she pulled the corner of her skirt and stood up, the soft sound of high heels stepping on the floor tiles echoed in the empty museum hall.

After Taiya heard this, she became nervous.

"Miss Taiya, we are closing."

The face of the woman wrapped in black veil changed rapidly - just from the exposed eyes, it can be seen that this lady seldom interacts with people because she has not lived for a long time, and does not understand those social interactions, so when Moriyuesha When he spoke bluntly, he started to panic.

"I...I want to wait for a while..." In a panic, the woman lowered her head and took two steps, like a herbivore who is being chased by a cheetah and is panicking, even a whisper can scare her.

"Miss Taiya, you can come back tomorrow."

"No, no!" Taiya raised her head suddenly, with only a pair of frightened eyes on her black veil-covered face: "No... I'm sorry, I..."

Moriyuesha tilted her head thoughtfully: "Eh..."

"Does it have to be in a museum?"

Taiya panicked at a loss, and took a few steps back stiffly, and then the light in her pupils gradually went out.

"I...I'm leaving right now..."

Sen Yuesha put her hands around the black woman, jumped a few times, raised her chin and said with a smile: "Would you like to be a guest at my house?"

"Although I'm not a local, but I have more money than most locals, how about a cup of coffee?"

The little girl invited the woman wrapped in a black robe, her pupils were decorated with ancient Egyptian-style decorations, and her smile seemed to be painted with a dazzling golden layer.

……

Moriyuesha lives in the center of Cairo, where most of the residents are from the local so-called upper class, and the rest are sold to foreigners - mostly British, currently their father's country.

The big house was built with new splendor, and only Mori Yuesha lived alone.In Arrietty's words, other than the Wabi-Sabi Garden, noble goblins are not used to living in other places.

Where did this 'noble' come from, Mori Yuesha was too lazy to ask, anyway, every once in a while, this little goblin with long coral-colored hair would always have a few new words that were out of place.

In front of her, Miss Ataya folded her legs, her palms on her knees, and sat on the small half of the sofa, her thick black eyelashes drooping without saying a word.

Even the feet are dead.

She's been sitting here for 10 minutes without moving.

"Please use."

Sen Yuesha stepped on the carpet and walked over, and two cups of hot black tea were served on the table.

"I have only myself here so far, so..." The girl squeezed two cubes of sugar and threw them into the cup: "So you are welcome to come as a guest at any time."

"Is it more comfortable than a museum?"

Looking at the girl who was enjoying the tea after tasting the black tea, Ataya finally relaxed her tense body a little, and when she picked up the teacup, she saw the girl wink playfully at him.

The other party seemed to see his embarrassment and unspeakableness, and took the lead in making many 'disrespectful' actions, which made Miss Ataya feel led - at least, it was indeed much more comfortable here than the library.

The warm current slid down the tongue and into the throat, from the esophagus down into the stomach bag. For some reason, the heart seemed to suddenly slow down the beating of the self. From the gurgling blood that was pumped, Ataya felt a warm feeling spread all over the body.

sizzle.

It was an accidental sound.

"How...you are welcome to visit often, my name is Moriyuesha."

Atayal put down the teacup, and the graceful movements seemed to have undergone long and deliberate training. She couldn't see the feeling of freedom in her eyes, but...stiff and numb.

"I know. Thank you, Miss Mori Yuesha."

The corners of her mouth under the veil were raised, and even the corners of her eyes were curved into crescents. This woman, who was probably much older than Sen Yuesha, seemed to be smiling like a girl who was not familiar with the world.

"Thank you..." The woman who has gone through a certain period of time has a soft and waxy voice.

"Ah, I'm not sleepy." Moriyuesha stretched and threw herself into the sofa impolitely, curling up into a small dough: "If you want to talk...or, you will be in a daze here. , you can. Please."

The sound like a dreamy babble is intermittent.

Most of the stories in the world are repetitive and boring, or boring and repetitive.

It's like a man with mental problems married a 14-year-old girl out of boredom, and then, for 16 long years, tried his best to torture her.

The ending of the story can be seen by Mori Yuesha, which is probably a more boring farce.

The 30-year-old Miss Atayal can be called a master of torture.

She was like an encyclopedia, she knew exactly what color and how painful the pustules would be after being scalded by a soldering iron.I also know the consequences of using the soldering iron on the bubble again - the pus will instantly 'his' and rise into fine smoke;

She knows the feeling of a not-so-sharp knife cutting off a whole piece of skin, and she has also tried the taste of frying them brown and sandwiching them into toast;

There is also acupuncture, the most important part of torture that cannot be ignored. The gap between the knees and the coccyx is the most difficult to accept.

Flogging...no big deal.

The least common is the hammer head. The heavy hammer head is thrown on the ground and makes a 'dong dong dong' sound. It is lifted up and smashed toes. Of course, her husband will give her the best medical care. To ensure that this game can be played once after a while.

Mr. Sheikh is a well-known collector in Cairo, and tens of millions of precious treasures have been exported abroad through his hands.In order to be worthy of the status of Mr. Sheikh, his wife worked hard to learn all kinds of things that a wife should learn.

Mr. Sheikh is a rare good man who is handsome and rich, and loves his wife like his life.

Mr. Sheikh is the devil that Taiya said should go to hell.

Section 209 Chapter 7 Mr. Sheikh and Mr. R

Miss Taiya's husband is obviously a member of the upper class, or rather, he never thought he was not.

The expensive little wool carpet was woven into a golden and black human figure. It stood on a high platform, holding a scepter in its left hand, and a fiery sun above its head.

sun god.

For most of the locals, the main god, who has always represented light, warmth and growth, is being trampled by Mr. Sheikh at will.

Opposite the sofa is a larger circle of hospitality sofas, with two glasses of amber liquid, half a bottle of wine, and a small pile of tan Donegal tobacco on a long black table.

Mr. Sheikh held up his pipe, and the lingering gray mist was filled with the rich and thick aroma of tulips.

When a man's eyes, one big and one small, stare forward, he will have a very deliberate and serious feeling. With the force of his eyes, his eyebrows will rise and fall, like a clown in a circus who is witty and wrinkled at the children.

At this moment, his face was like swallowing a glass of very high-purity Scotch whisky, with intense red and purple crawling all over his old face along his neck, and raised his finger tremblingly to the person opposite.When his teeth clapped, he spit out incomplete words and a faint wisp of smoke.

What surprised his ugly face was the information he had just heard.

"Are you sure? Mr. R?" He confirmed again with a trembling voice, sitting upright subconsciously: "Do you have news from there?"

The man known as Mr. R was wearing a straight suit, with khaki hair three to seven points, showing a somewhat receding hairline, and a pair of black-framed brown sunglasses hanging in front of him.

Even through the lens, still can not block that ambitious vision.

"Of course." Mr. R held his cane and tapped the carpet: "My troops are elite."

"Then, now..."

"Now you're going to give me the thing you said." Mr. R hurriedly said: "I need to prepare both hands. According to records, Hamnatari should have left a record of that time. If my troops can't find it, You have to go to Hamnatha and see for yourself."

"Hamunaptra..."

"The City of the Undead..."

"The kingdom of the dead..."

Sheikh muttered to himself.

For the men who grew up here, the legend of Hamnatha is simply too familiar.

In the past 40 years, he has seen countless treasure hunting teams riding camels into the vast desert with confidence, facing the wind and sand covering the sky, and then disappearing forever.

Maybe some lucky guy escaped from the dead, hanging in tattered clothes and selling their belongings in order to survive—if they had any at that time.

Even in the end...they had to sell themselves.

Otherwise, the local prisons and the black market for human trafficking would not be so lively.

——It is not so much that it is the capital of the undead, it is better to say that those undead come from a team of expeditions who are tirelessly searching for treasures.

Under the yellow sand, there are corpses all over.

Sheikh took a deep breath. "I recently collected a collection of antiques, which was sold by a treasure hunt team - oh, according to the man, it was the treasure he found under the yellow sand of Hamna Tower."

"He said he found Hamnata," the man sneered, tapping his stubby fingers on the outer wall of the pipe: "Who knows. Atayal?"

Standing aside, Ataya walked over like a maid in small steps, holding a polygonal box in her hand and handing it to Sheikh, when the two touched their fingers.

Taiya shivered obviously.

Mr. R smiled even more: "Your wife really loves you, Mr. Sheikh. Few women still tremble when they touch their husbands. I heard that you have been married for more than ten years?"

Sheikh looked at Taiya with a warm smile, and after the woman bowed her head and bowed back to leave, the man turned his head to reply to Mr. R's ridicule.

"No, it's me who's sorry for my wife. She gave me all her love, and I...I have to give some away to this kind of gadget." Said without emotion, Sheikh held up the polygonal horn in his palm Metal box, throw it up one by one.

Mr. R's sight behind the sunglasses also moved up and down with the movement of the iron box.

Sheikh smiled.

Another large sum of money.

"So…"

a finger.

"No, up to 500 million." Mr. R shook his head: "The American expedition team members under my command are all experienced guys. Recently they found a guide - he has been to Hamna Tower."

"So, you broken box..."

Sheikh smiled and waved to Ataya, and after the woman came over, she put the polygonal box in her hand back into her palm.

"Keep it, Taiya."

Mr. R's slender eyebrows gathered towards the center: "Sheikh, you know my price, it can't be so much this time."

"800."

"600 million, I need to bring someone to verify it tomorrow."

"No problem! I'm on standby all day! Mr. R." The man narrowed his eyes, took his pipe again, and gave a comical military salute.

"Only at this time can I see your smiling face, Sheikh." Mr. R stood up on crutches, and seemed to be in a bad mood. Before Sheikh got up to say goodbye, he strode away.

After the loud closing of the door, the living room was silent.

Sheikh sat on the sofa, holding the index finger of the other palm in his left hand, rubbing the ornate ruby-encrusted ring.

"Taya, we made another 600 million..."