undercover manga

My name is Wade Wilson and I'm from Canada.

Occupation is mercenary.

I came to New York for some reason.

I was a little cash-strapped when I first arrived, so I decided to find a place to spend one night.

I'll look for a job tomorrow.

So I stopped another car.

"Drive, take me to the nearest place, preferably one with a lower price tag, not too formal."

After making this request to the taxi driver, he pressed the meter, released the clutch, and started counting the meter.

The yellow-painted taxi jumped onto the streets leading to Manhattan Island. It was like an indomitable warrior, running towards an unknown direction full of blasphemy.

The driver was an Indian man. He didn’t ask me what kind of place it was.

But a tacit understanding that only exists between men is floating silently in this narrow space with my desires.

At night, New York in November is like an ice cave.

Even in the dark, I could still smell the restlessness and busyness in the car that the daytime guests had accidentally left inside.

It seems like it never stops.

I hope these people can, like me, vent their loneliness in this all-embracing night.

I wonder.

In fact, the real me does not have this kind of literary and artistic atmosphere, but after getting rid of the bad friends in the past, I hope that I can have a brand new life.

"It's been a long time since a customer asked me to take him to a place like that to spend money."

The driver was the first to break the deep silence in the car.

“Uber killed traditional taxis and I miss the old days.”

He lit a cigarette, held it in his right hand and took a drag. I could see his deep gaze through the rearview mirror.

The dirty solid material in the corner of his eyes seemed to be telling his fatigue.

Then, he put his right arm on the car window frame and let the air flowing in from the window blow the cigarette ashes onto my cheek.

"In the past, I could pick up a few guests like you every night. But now, those people have learned to find hunting grounds on the Internet. In the past six months, you are the first one to make me feel like I used to."

He said.

I didn't want the driver to make his words completely clear. Being too explicit would damage my character.

"Men are lonely after all."

So, I brewed my emotions and answered like this.

"Yes, they are all lonely."

After the driver finished saying this, he took a long puff of cigarette.

In the darkness, the already dim front end of the cigarette became dazzling again.

The flickering cigarette butts danced, as if they had the magic power to dispel loneliness again.

The driver took a sharp breath and seemed to ignite a sun with his lungs.

And I know that only when a man falls into lonely memories, he will smoke in this almost self-destructive way.

"I used to go to places like that all the time, and I didn't stop until I got married."

He flashed the ring on his hand and continued.

"The first time I went to that place, I was 16."

The driver's eyes suddenly glanced at the rearview mirror, which happened to overlap with my gaze.

He blinked, as if seeking some uncanny recognition.

"Can you imagine? The temptation that a 16-year-old boy would encounter when he walked into that kind of situation? It was enough to sink the boy."

The driver's tone was full of memories, but I didn't know how to answer.

After all, which man can refuse this kind of freedom and unrestraint, a place where he can just lie down and sleep when he is tired from playing.

"That time, I stayed in the place for three hours, until the police broke down the door. Then under the guidance of the proprietress, I returned to the world through the back door."

His driver suddenly stepped on the accelerator, increased the speed, completely wrapped the self-driving Tesla behind him in the exhaust, and kept a safe distance from it.

After doing all this, he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Those in our field are most afraid of encountering a car starting with T on the street."

The driver didn't explain too much, but brought the topic back.

"If you want to see the world, I recommend you go to West Midtown, Clinton District."

"Wherever I have seen sad boys howling and tears pouring down like waterfalls."

"I have also seen all kinds of girls, using cheap high heels to stomp on the floor to create desperate fireworks."

After saying that, the driver saw me nodding through the rearview mirror.

So he threw away the cigarette butt in his hand and stepped on the accelerator.

Ordinary taxis carrying extraordinary prayers began to drive down Eighth Avenue.

It is like a lion locking its prey, galloping quickly.

I saw the neon lights on the roadside whizzing past my eyes, and the uncaptured details of light and shadow were left behind by the driver like his long-torn thoughts.

"Sit tight, this time, I want to take you flying."

he shouted.

But the taxi didn't speed on the road for too long. A sudden red light interrupted the driver's speed and passion.

He turned his head and expressed some reluctance.

If it weren't for this red light, he could have increased his speed to [-] miles.

When I heard this, I had the urge to jump out of the car right now.

At the same time, thank you for the red light, thank you for blocking the way to heaven.

Suddenly, I saw a luxury car that was also stopped at the red light next to the car.

The price of this car must be a figure I can't even imagine.

But this does not hinder my curiosity.

I stared at it closely, imagining that I could drive such a luxury car in the future.

Then the green light came on.

The taxi started impatiently.

It seems to prove that he has had glorious moments in his life that surpassed luxury cars.

And the next second, the roar of the engine penetrated my ears.

Just when I had a startled glance, I saw the luxury car darting out like an arrow.

At the same time, I happened to see the driver in the driving seat.

"It's a dog driving the car," I said.

The driver didn't speak, his face darkened.

I knew he might have misunderstood what I said, but the person driving the car just now was indeed a dog.

"Marriage is beautiful," I said to break the silence.

"Of course love is beautiful, and marriage is happy. But I yearn for the purity in that place even more," he replied.

The driver said that No. [-] was his favorite when he was young.

Because the first time he went to No. [-].

Whenever he couldn't help the throbbing of youth, he would go to No. [-] to spend money.

"But where we are going now, you'd better choose No. 18."

I was confused: "What difference does this make?"

"The odd numbers from one to ten are too cheap, and the even numbers like eight, eight, nine and nine are too luxurious." He said, "I have tried the rest, and only number 18 is just right."

Under the dim yellow streetlights flashing outside the car, the driver's half-twisted face looked hazy.

I feel like he is like a retired martial arts master, telling the younger generations about his past glory in the tone of someone who has experienced it.

Although he quit the world, he didn't quit completely.

Maybe we have always been sinking in the world.

Not for a while.

The driver turned the car into a dark alley.

Through the narrow alley, there seems to be an energy that attracts crime.

"It has arrived."

The driver turned around and said this.

He quickly raised the meter, not giving me a chance to see the fare clearly.

"If I don't charge you this time, I'll pay you."

He waved his hand towards me, motioning me to get out of the car quickly.

I didn't say anything when I got out of the car, I just nodded solemnly to him.

The car drove slowly away, taking away a man's kindness.

It also took away my fiery heart.

I thought the driver understood me, but it turned out that we never chatted on the same channel.

Standing at the door of the Internet cafe.

Wade Wilson is completely unmotivated.