Reborn with Naruto In Tokyo, Japan

Takeo Moribe was lying on the bed with his wife on the side. After being possessed by a fox demon, his sense of hearing and smell increased to an inhuman level.

Takeo Moribe could clearly hear the sound of his wife's breathing when she was sleeping. She had fallen asleep peacefully, but Takeo Moribu tossed and turned but couldn't fall asleep. There were 100,000 maggots crawling on him.

With invisible shackles cuffing him, he stood up from the bed and walked around to his wife's bed, where he could clearly see his wife's profile in the dark.

After attaching the spiritual power, his strength can crush the wrist of an adult, and it is not a problem to crush the smooth neck of his wife.

As long as he wanted to, he could kill all the thugs in the toilet in a few breaths!

"Huh..." Takeo Moribe stood on the edge of the bed and took a few deep breaths.

His hands were shaking slightly, cutting through the darkness and approaching his wife's neck.

Just a little pinch!

"Good night."

He stroked his wife's hair with his hand, turned and went back to the other side of the bed, opened his eyes and fell asleep.

The sun still rises as usual.

Takeo Moribu, who had not slept all night, was not exhausted. After getting up early and having a meal as usual, he sat numbly on the tram to go to work.

Arriving at the subway platform next to the company, everything was business as usual. The man who committed suicide by jumping off the track just made Osaka's tram system panic for a few minutes. No blood was seen on the track the next day, and no passersby's discussions were heard.

Takeo Moribe also swiped his phone to confirm that what happened yesterday was not a hallucination, and this kind of news of a social animal committing suicide is not worth digging into.

After a few days when he was no longer mentioned on the news and his relatives forgot about him, the man was really dead.

Back at the company and sat down, a group of half-bald colleagues were discussing their recent technical work. Densely-haired people are newcomers, half-bald people are old people, and total baldness is elite.

Moribu touched his hair. He is one of the few people with good skills who is not bald yet, but according to the trend of grabbing a handful of hair every time he washes his hair, it is not too far off to become bald.

A colleague next door leaned over. He took a fruit knife and cut an apple, cut it into two pieces, and handed it to Takeo Moribe.

"Fujioka Keito died so suddenly."

"Who is Keito Fujioka?" Takeo Moribe took a bite of the apple. The apple at the end of February was really sour.

"It's the one from the marketing department...I don't know it either. I heard from others. Wasn't he the one who committed suicide by jumping off the rails yesterday? The marketing department laid off staff. Even if I was transferred to another county, but I was relegated from the headquarters to some Kochi county in the four islands, the salary was directly cut by more than half, which is similar to layoffs."

"It is said that he spent all his savings a month ago and just bought a mortgage loan to buy a house. The daughter of the third grade is going to go to a private school. It seems that her parents had problems a few days ago. People are not good." The colleague nodded heartily, and the heavy news was overwhelmed by middle-aged people.

The rabbit died and the fox was sad, this abyss that was not careful and doomed might come to him one day.

Are you still an acquaintance? Thinking of the scene where he raised his hand and surrendered yesterday, Takeo Moribe's heart stabbed again.

"Leaving a pair of orphans and widowed mothers, I don't know what will happen in the future."

After a few chats between the two social animals, they felt that everything was boring. They pulled the chair closer to the computer desk, squinting to code the code.

"What kind of car is Kameda driving?"

When the code was written, Takeo Moribe asked as if nothing had happened.

"Senior? The class leader drives a black Subaru, right?"

"Oh."

Subaru.

Not Mitsubishi.

Takeo Moribu didn't have the thought to code words at all, and after pretentious copy-paste, additions, deletions, revisions, and investigations, he went to get off work in troubled waters.

The life of a programmer is like this. When you have nothing to do, you are bored, add, delete, modify, and check by pretending to be busy, and you can handle the work. But once the big project is overwhelmed, you have to stay up all night and work overtime.

Takeo Moribu seems to be very "favored" by the above for two days. The two arranged newcomers haven't come yet. After get off work, he was called out by the office leader.

But this time, it was not Tachikawa from the personnel team, but Kameda, who had Takeo Moribe clenched his fists.

"Come, come." Kameda waved to Takeo Moribe, and his boss Kameda looked at Takeo Moribe with a smile, as if he were a good boss.

Takeo Moribe packed his documents in front of the table, put a pile of sundries in his briefcase, and followed Kameda with his head down.

What happened between the two, only three people know.

Kameda's home is in the Chuo Ward, separated from the company headquarters by a river. As a section manager, he drives to and from get off work every day as a matter of course.

A large company with more than 600 people has a special parking lot of its own. The two of them deliberately walked very slowly. When they arrived at the parking lot, the huge parking lot was empty.

"Moribe, how is your work lately?"

"very good."

"Yeah." Kameda nodded with a smile, his beer belly swayed, "I can see your hard work, if everyone in the department works hard like you, the business level of our department will be improved exponentially. ."

After complimenting, Kameda revealed his intention: "It's like this, recently a beautiful job came down from the headquarters, and a group of excellent elites and dehumidifiers were selected for permanent residence. In addition to receiving two salaries every month, there are additional subsidies. These things can make a lot of money in a year.”

It is true that he can make a lot of money. If he were the former Takeo Moribe, for the sake of his family, he would definitely nod in agreement without even thinking, and would like to kneel down and appreciate Kameda's gift of appreciation.

What about detoxification? As long as he can make more money, he can go to Africa without any problem!

But now it's different. He was transferred to the wet poison thousands of miles away - Takeo Moribu certainly knew why.

"Squeak."

Takeo Moribe's arm was tightly tucked into the briefcase, and there was a creaking sound from the debris and documents stuffed inside.

Seeing Takeo Moribe bowing his head and not speaking, Kameda smiled, turned around, patted his stomach, and left.

This cowardly guy, he decided to eat Kameda.

"Kameda." Takeo Moribe's voice sounded behind Kameda.

Kameda frowned, how could a subordinate call his boss by his name?

Is this cowardly **** about to get angry?

But no matter how the waste is shipped, it is still a waste. As long as he scolds the Ministry of Defense, the waste will obediently kneel down and admit his mistake!

Kameda turned his head and was about to yell at Takeo Moribe, but suddenly narrowed his eyes.

I saw Takeo Moribe actually holding a fruit knife in his hand, and even in the dark underground parking lot, I could feel the cold light on the blade.

Kameda had the impression that it was an apple peeling knife placed on the water dispenser in the office.

"Hey! You have to do..."

This guy is going to kill? Set yourself on fire and die with him?

Kameda turned around and was about to run away~www.readwn.com~ But Takeo Moribe was faster than him!

A gust of wind blew through, and Takeo Moribu pinched Kameda's neck. With his other hand, he pressed a dagger against Kameda's eyelids. With just a little force, he could swipe into the eye socket and stir Kameda's brain. sloppy.

The blade cut open Kameda's eyelids slightly, and a trace of blood flowed down.

"Hey, Moribu, I said..." Sweat kept dripping from Kameda's bald head.

"Fuck you." Moribu grabbed half of Kameda's face and smashed it heavily on the concrete floor.

"Boom!"

The greasy face like a fat pig collided with the ground. Under the recoil of the cement, the fat on Kameda's face swayed like waves.

The puffy face eroded by the color of wine was covered with blood and pain.

Almost all of the eyes, nose, mouth, and 32 teeth fell out of pain.

"Fuck you, **** you, **** you!"

Moribu grabbed Kameda and pressed it against the wall. The body of more than 200 pounds was not much heavier than a child in his hands.

Takeo Moribe cursed and used the hilt of the fruit knife to smear Kameda's face again and again.

In the elongated shadow, Mobe's arm became a pile driver, repeatedly inlaid with the handle of the knife.

The round hilt carved bruises, erythema, and blood on Kameda's face.

A low roar undisguised hoarsely came out of Moribu's throat, the plastic peeling off the edge of the knife handle, and then filled with Kameda's flesh and blood.

"Don't hit, don't hit... don't hit..." Kameda's voice became smaller and smaller, and he found that he couldn't resist the thin and thin Takeo Moribe. Obviously, his body was like a pole, and he could push it down with a slap. , but the power that erupted from that thin body at this time made him chill.

"stop fighting……"