Ten-Dimensional Covenant [Unlimited]

He raised his forehead, as if he didn't expect that I would have this trick, and fell into deep thought.

I pulled it back and felt even more proud. I signaled with my eyes that he could come and lick it.

In the next second, I was thrown head down by him into a big pit. There were a lot of mulch and earthworms in the pit, which seemed to be used to plant some large trees.

Those earthworms crawling all over my head and neck are disgusting as hell.

"Damn, I can't afford it!" I wiped a handful of slime and shouted.

Without changing his face, he poured a pot of water into my face: "It's better to be happy alone than to be happy together. My pet little earthworm, you have to treat them well."

shift, the octopus doesn't show off its power, I thought I really had taiyaki!

I jumped out of the pit, snatched the watering can from his hand, filled it with water, and slammed into his face. He couldn't open his eyes, so he could only keep kicking and kicking my calf, desperately begging for mercy.

I believed his lies and let him go.But he picked up the iced milk teapot with his backhand and showered me with coldness.

The farce started when you chased me and ended when I won the game.

He was exhausted, lying on the steps of the yard like a salted fish, but his smile was exceptionally satisfied.

"If my childhood was so beautiful, I would have no regrets." When he said this, he seemed to think of something, his smile restrained, and he sighed slightly.

I lay beside him, holding his hand: "What's so difficult about it, just treat yourself as three years old, and I'm your playmate when you were young, and we're spending a carefree night together. "

He chuckled: "Just right, you don't need to pretend with your IQ, anyway, it's not much different from three years old."

Run on me again.

Seeing that he has something on his mind, I will let him go for a while, but there will never be a next time.

“Clean up the yard before going to bed. If it’s too wet, the freshly painted walls will melt,” he said.

I snorted twice, because he had something on his mind, I will let him go again, but there will never be a next time: "Where should I sleep at night?"

"The yard. Clean the toilet first when you get up tomorrow morning." He said again.

I couldn't bear it anymore: "Who gave you face!"

"Do you want to eat it? The sesame oil chao hand made by me."

He blocked my mouth with one word.

Seeing that he has something on his mind, I decided to let him do it again. As for whether there is a next time, it depends on whether his handwriting can stop my heart.

The next day, the sun hadn't risen yet.

I stretched out of bed like a snapper, and laboriously cleaned all the toilets with poplar bark, and mended the ceiling with icing sugar and hard bread.

During this process, I found a small closed attic on the broken ceiling of the master bedroom. It was a secret room, and it was pitch-black inside. I dug it out with my hands and found a few copybooks.

The font is very ordinary, neither good-looking nor ugly, just like ordinary characters written by thousands of ordinary people.

I really don't understand what's the point of trash imitating this font?

Is it the so-called fashion?

Just when I threw away "Fashion" and was about to go into the attic to explore, the sound of garbage came from the kitchen: "It's time to eat."

Without saying a word, I patched the hole.Sat down at the table with anticipation.

Then...

"You call this thing Chaoshou?" I pointed at the bowl he brought over and asked in a loud voice.

I used a spoon to poke the stuff in the soup. Calling it a steamed stuffed bun would be considered a flattery. The dough is so thick that you can’t see the filling when you bite it down. What’s even more frightening is that it’s still raw and sticky, just like ooze. strange.

He showed an aggrieved expression: "Is it not to your taste?"

Is that a problem that is not to my taste?That's, that's...

Looking at his increasingly aggrieved expression, what else can I say?

"It's okay, it's okay. Next time, the skin will be thinner, and it will be better if you add some dark chocolate powder." I said sullenly.

He smiled, pretending not to understand my hint, and stretched out the spoon in front of me: "Since it's delicious, eat more."

I couldn't speak for a while, and I suspected that he was messing with me.

There were several lumps of raw flour dangling in my stomach, and I sat in his co-pilot, listening to him talk about the history of Witch Town like a bible.

"Where are we going now?" I yawned and pulled myself together.

"Find the truth."

The answer fit his personality, and I asked again: "Don't you have to go to work?"

I paid special attention to the shift schedule of Dingguagua Restaurant, and this morning is his on-duty time.

"The restaurant is temporarily closed." He rested his left arm lazily on the car window, and drove the car with only one hand.

"Brother because of ice cream?" I already had the answer in my mind, "Who decided? Is your boss takoyaki?"

"I decided." He glanced at me meaningfully: "He doesn't care about such trivial matters."

"He likes you." I can't tell what it's like, maybe I'm the first man in the world to be greened by myself.

He first lowered his head and chuckled, then slowly pointed to the sky above the first light, "Do you think everyone is you? He likes...someone else."

Seeing his vague appearance, my head buzzed and I almost jumped up.

Also, at the end of "Deep Sea Fog", I broke up with this garbage.Therefore, in the author's vision, it is only natural that "Takoyaki" likes "sun cake".

But it's not right, if Takoyaki doesn't like dark chocolate, why doesn't he want others to taste the taste of dark chocolate.

He seemed to see through my thoughts, and said indifferently: "It's just an ordinary possessive desire."

"Maybe that's not the case." I tried my best to restore the relationship between "us and me".

"He is an idiot, if he likes me, will I still not know?" He said.

Wait a minute, he said that, should I be angry?

During my long thoughts, the sun rose and we gradually turned into food. I saw him transformed into dark chocolate for the first time.

The whole body is dark, like a brick.

He was completely different from the one I remembered, and I couldn't help but burst out laughing.

In the next second, he grabbed the fish tail and threw it out of the car.

He was told that if he didn't find out the truth from the Durian Cake, he would not be allowed to get in the car.

Cut, if you don’t get on, you can’t get on. With such a short distance, I can climb home even with my fins.

An hour later, I re-climbed into his car.

"How?" he asked.

"As you guessed, the first deceased was also covered in sauce, ketchup." I threw all the information on his face.

He didn't ask me how I figured out the truth, and I didn't tell him what happened to the Durian Crisp.

The two of us drove silently on the empty road, the wind whistling past our ears, the traffic lights at the intersection were poorly connected, flashing a dying red light, very much like the group of people I knocked down to the ground.

An hour ago, I stepped on their heads, stepped into the police office,

Durian Cake didn't know that disaster was imminent, and was still drinking tea, laughing at my relationship with that trash. Soon, I let him know what fear is.

He is indeed a veteran of all kinds. He dared to quibble when he was about to die. He only told me that the first deceased did not have salad dressing on him, but he did not say that there was no ketchup.

I listen to him!

He directly peeled off his puff pastry, scooped out the durian filling one spoon at a time, and filled it with a whole jar of chili sauce.

He couldn't hold back that playful smile anymore, and kept begging for mercy.

I am indifferent.

Peanut was still talking sarcasticly at the side at first, but later he couldn't stand my too hard-core style and pleaded for him.

I ignored it and remained indifferent.

Finally, he was dying.

I let go of my hand and said to Peanut: "You saved his life, I hope you won't regret it."

I took all the materials on Durian Crisp's desk and walked out the door.

The entire police station was in riots, and everyone's eyes flashed the most familiar fear.

Bullets whizzed past my ears, and electric batons went back and forth, but none of them touched me.

I walked out of the gate with a cigarette in my mouth, and followed the wailing of the entire police station.

A beautiful Beetle stopped at the door, saw me coming out, and flashed its lights.

His square head poked awkwardly out of the car window.

I couldn't help but smile, and went up to meet him.

Although I am not smart, there are very few people who can lie to me.And even fewer are alive.

Apart from him, I am willing to be deceived by him.

. . .

The car drove from the desolate morning to the busy morning rush hour, from the dreary police station to the even dreary library.

The library looks like a giant hamburger with a golden schnitzel sandwiched between two slices of rye bread.

But that doesn't interest me.

Why come to the library?My whole face was wrinkled into a bun.

He answered me that there are too many genres of evil sacrifices, he can't remember clearly, and this place retains the most complete memory of history.

I was even more miserable, and tentatively asked him if I could stay in the car and sleep.

"Don't you want to eat the red oil Chao Shou I made?" He raised his face.

Hehe, bye.

Goodbye failure, he grabbed me by the fins and dragged me to the library, where I was sent to look for books on religion and folklore.

The administrator's sister is a handsome sour plum with glasses, and she is quite pretty.There is only one shortcoming. When he speaks, he smells sour.

I collided with her at the corner between two bookshelves. She blushed and lowered her eyebrows: "This elder brother has bright eyes and sparse eyebrows. He is majestic. I don't know who's his name?"

I didn't answer, just looked at her silently, I've seen this woman before.In the home of the second deceased Yogurt, or Ms. Benson, I saw a photo of them together.

They should be colleagues.And my colleagues have already equated with plastic sisterhood in my heart.

Seeing that I didn't answer, she blushed even more embarrassingly: "I'm bothering you."

She turned around to leave, but I reached out and grabbed her, and put a piece of paper in front of her: "Do you know where these books are?"

She led me to the shelf and picked out the book for me.I gave her an extremely perfunctory thank you, but she snickered and ran away as if she had just gotten the most beautiful diamond in the world.

"Yo, I won't see you in a while, you're so charming." A neutral voice sounded from behind.

It's him.

"Hey, where is the vinegar spilled?" I felt the indescribable sourness in his words, and couldn't help sniffling, pretending to look around.

He didn't speak, but I was happy.

I didn't expect that there would be a day when he would be jealous of me.

Eh, wait, is that undermining my own charm?

My unabashed schadenfreude seemed to irritate him.He didn't refute me, but smiled more gently.

For the next two hours, I was pressed on a stool, reading those books that looked like ghostly symbols.

Whenever he was about to fall asleep, he scratched my fish scales desperately.

unacceptable!

While I was reading, he was drinking mango double skin milk.

While I was reading, he was joking with the administrator girl.

When I was reading a book, he was playing a kissing game with a dog brought by a little boy, and he almost didn't cuddle with that boy.

I slammed down the book, put my arms around his waist in front of the little boy, and kissed his marble-like face.

That little boy was scared away by my hardcore detective aura.

But he raised his phoenix eyes and said teasingly: "It's better that your vinegar is more stale."

Chen is Chen, have you never heard of aged vinegar for sterilization, is it good for health?

He had had enough fun, and finally let me go, and turned "Old Folklore" to pages 152 and 367.

There are two mysterious ceremonies written on it. One is a blessing ceremony that was widely circulated in rural folklore in the early years-the five flavors and gossip in the food world.

The procedure is to mix a part of yourself into sauces that represent the five flavors of sour, sweet, bitter, hot, salty, and spread them on the corresponding gourmet offerings. After a simple sacrificial ceremony, kill the offerings.

The other is the blessing ceremony of the Tiandihui. The steps are somewhat similar to the five flavors and gossip. You only need to replace the sour, sweet, bitter, spicy and salty with the delicacies of the five regional factions in the east, west, north, south, and middle.

The purposes of the two rituals are also strikingly similar.Just to make yourself better.

It is said that as long as you follow the steps, you will naturally offer five sacrifices to the gods, to the heaven and the earth.

Even if the taste is the same as chewing wax, eating barberry and swallowing needles, it can still taste like jade liquid and fine wine, with mountains and seas.

"I see." I slapped my head, "This must be done by people with epidemic depression."

The murderer didn't kill early or late, but he killed at this time. In all likelihood, he was hit. He was in constant panic, so he came up with this way to make himself more delicious.

No wonder I traced it all the way, and always felt that these two irrelevant things were inextricably linked.

However, he rolled his eyes and muttered: I'll buy it instead, the villa is near the sea.

Jealousy, he must be jealous that I'm smarter than him!

"In that case, what's your opinion?"