Plane keyboard

Chapter 181 Heterochromia Iris
A blink of an eye.

Zhan Wuzha faintly felt that his eyes were dark and then bright, and he was taken to an unfamiliar environment, so he naturally began to look at the surrounding environment.

The sun is gradually setting in the west, the blue sky, white clouds, green mountains and green waters are far away. There are woods nearby, and grassland a little further away. A little further away, you can see the blurred outline of a city.

Zhan Wuzha concentrated his eyes and saw that the outline of the city was clearly divided into modern times. First, he took out a high-tech notebook from the storage space and asked the artificial intelligence program Hawthorn to try to connect to the network of this era.

Since the artificial intelligence program Hawthorn cracked the mobile phone from the hunter plane, it has been able to connect to the signal or network of any other mobile phone, and come to a plane similar to modern times to detect natural counterparts.

however.

"Mr. Zhan, there is currently no connected network in the world. According to the analysis of satellite and radio signals, it is currently in [-]."

The gentle voice of the artificial intelligence program Hawthorn came out through the speaker of the high-tech notebook.

"[-]?"

Zhan Wuzha walked towards the city, and had a deeper understanding of the limitations of this artificial intelligence program in the era of no internet. While walking, he observed his surroundings, and his thoughts spread, exploring a range of three kilometers around him.

His footsteps became faster and faster, passing through several groves, and getting closer to the city.

When I was about to arrive at the city, I realized that the outline of the city was blurred because the fog was too thick, and the architectural style had a serious and solemn flavor.

Get out of the woods and onto the driveway.

"Well, this looks like a city in Europe from the 60s."

Zhan Wuzha's pace slowed down, and he kept walking at a slightly faster speed than ordinary people. Occasionally, he saw two or three vehicles passing by, all of whom were blond-haired and blue-eyed foreigners.

Soon.

Zhan Wuzha has already stepped into the city. Although he has controlled the shortening of his hair, the appearance of black hair, black pupils and yellow skin still arouses the strange sunshine of many people in the 60s.

On the side of the street, some blond men in brown jackets and black suits were reading newspapers and waiting for the bus, while some blond ladies were also reading newspapers and magazines.

There are also many teenagers and girls about ten years old holding some bouquets and coming to some couples, selling the emotional flower language represented by the bouquets. There are always men who buy bouquets to win the smiles of beauties. Naturally, there are also young men who sell newspapers. .

Soon.

A brown-skinned tram came along the track and stopped. Many blond men and women put away newspapers or magazines and stepped onto the tram.

Zhan Wuzha glanced at the tram, sometimes left, then right, and saw a road sign, so he walked over to watch.

At this time.

"Sir, would you like to buy a newspaper?"

A young boy selling newspapers stepped forward to inquire. He was wearing one on his head, and was carrying a backpack across his shoulders. There was a thick stack of newspapers in the backpack. As for the inquiry, he did see that the man in front of him was dressed luxuriously and exquisitely, and his temperament seemed quite gentle.

"Well, a newspaper?"

Zhan Wuzha shifted his gaze from the road sign to the newspaper boy, thought for a while, and said, "You should be familiar with the neighborhood, and I can pay you a certain amount. You just need to lead the way to the bank. I need to exchange some pounds."

"Of course, I am willing to lead the way for you."

The eleven or twelve-year-old newsboy straightened his hat and replied with a smile.

After a while.

Under the guidance of the young newspaper boy, he walked a few streets, turned a few corners, and just happened to meet a tram that stopped.

Zhan Wuzha found that this young newsboy had a complete grasp of the nearby routes, and he also fully remembered the stop times of the trams, and was quite talkative, not like an eleven or twelve-year-old newsboy at all.

"Is this your first visit to Oxford, sir?"

"Sir, if you need to go to the bar, I can show you the way."

"Sir, if you need to live in Oxford, I can recommend it for you. It is very convenient to rent and buy a house."

"..."

On the tram, the young newsboy quickly turned to tell various humanistic stories about Oxfordshire. When he talked about Oxford University several times, his eyes became brighter and a strong look appeared in his eyes.

Zhan Wuzha nodded politely from time to time, and occasionally asked some questions. He looked through the car window, looked at the gray sky outside the car window, and knew that in the 60s London was the hardest hit by smog, and Oxford also had a lot of problems.

Most of the other people in the car looked at the newspapers or magazines in their hands in silence, and didn't talk about it. Even those who didn't have newspapers would buy newspapers from the young newsboys, and the young newsboys were quite happy to sell newspapers.

at this time.

Zhan Wuzha also reads the newspaper in his hand, searching for the key information, and also thinking about where he is. After all, there are many movies with Oxford, England as the plot location, but there are not many magical and surreal ones.

"I hope it's not some rough Sherlock Holmes, if it's Harry Potter..."

Zhan Wuzha is not interested in this kind of magic. If it is really this kind of plane, he will probably find a place where he will not be disturbed to plant human face fruit trees quietly, and wait for two years to pass.

Unexpected.

Zhan Wuzha suddenly thought that if he really traveled to the ordinary plane, he would not have the power of some big monsters as return energy. Thinking of all ordinary people without a cultivation system, he felt a chill down his spine.

"People without thought, he must worry about."

Zhan Wuzha secretly decided in his heart that at least he must gather enough energy to allow himself to return twice, otherwise he would only have physical strength left when he returned to the original world, which would not be acceptable.

Soon.

The tram stopped.

The young newsboy said, "Sir, we've arrived. That's the bank."

As soon as the voice fell, he led the way and got out of the car.

Zhan Wuzha got off the tram, unfamiliar with people and places, and asked, "Okay, will you wait at the door, or follow me in."

"Let's go in together! It's the first time you come here, sir, and you need someone you know well. Don't you?" The young newsboy grinned.

Zhan Wuzha shrugged, and the two walked into the bank together.

In the end, it turned out that Zhan Wuzha was accompanied by a young newspaper boy, and he exchanged gold for the British pound of the due value, otherwise he would be slaughtered unknowingly because he had no identity.

After half an hour.

Zhan Wuzha walked out of the bank, sighing a little, this young man would never overcharge himself for leading the way, if he hadn't asked for it, he would have only charged a few newspapers, and said to the young newspaper boy, "Thank you."

"You're welcome!"

The young newsboy put one hand on his backpack, and the backpack with a stack of newspapers was pressed against his trouser pocket. In his trouser pocket was the money he could earn by selling newspapers for six days. This made him quite happy, and he could buy some gifts for his family.

Perhaps it was due to the smog floating in the sky, which came from nowhere, which made the sky over Oxford much darker than usual. It was clearly at four or five o'clock in the evening, but it was completely dark.

"Well, the news from the bar should be relatively well-informed."

Zhan Wuzha thought this way. He was walking casually, and when he saw the neon lights on the signboard of a bar, he came up with such an idea.

Go into the bar.

Zhan Wuzha naturally felt that it was quite noisy, so he was about to lower his ear power to the normal level, when he suddenly heard a conversation, looked at the source of the sound, and couldn't help being startled.

"Heterochromia."

"A gentleman should at least buy me a drink first."

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(End of this chapter)