Famous Hair Loss Treatment Center in Yokohama

"Do I look like a girl?"

Saitama finally looked up.

The dead animals were cut up, dismembered,

Saitama leaned closer to the boy, almost pressed his nose against his body, and took a deep breath.

"It doesn't smell good."

"Girls must be fragrant."

But Qiyu has never met a few girls, and the girl in the dream has never been so close, so I don't know if it is Xiangxiang.

This is all his imagination.

But Zhong Yuanzhong also believed it. He lowered his head and smelled his clothes, all of which smelled like livestock.

"I'm not usually like this."

Who usually handles the livestock.

"You just say I look good."

"Your appearance." Saitama stared at Chuya Nakahara's face.

She has beautiful blue eyes, a perfectly small face, a little long hair, and a beautiful hat.

But no matter how you look at it,

"Why are you blushing?" Qiyu suddenly went 'ah', "You look like a girl."

"Really? Bamei said you look like a girl, so I look a bit like you?"

The boy's face was getting redder and redder, and he couldn't wait to hear the result of Saitama's trial, so he jumped up and ran to deliver it with a big bag of garbage.

Why would you ask such a weird question? It's simply inexplicable.

Packing a good deal of meat and bones, Saitama decided to treat her friends to dinner.

"Actually, I really don't like social gatherings." Oda Sakunosuke didn't wear the black suit that is standard for members of the Mafia, but changed into a very casual light-colored jacket. The top two buttons of the shirt were open.

He actually wanted to have a spicy curry meal, and it would be better to drink some wine, but when Zhongyuan Zhongya came to invite him, he followed.

"I have to work overtime at night." Ango Sakaguchi pushed down his small round glasses, the huge black and blue under his eyes made him look very listless.

"Mr. Anwu, you should talk about a girlfriend."

Even if you have a girlfriend, you won't be so fucked and tired.

"The colleagues are all men."

There are also women among the mafia members, but each is more fierce than the other.

"Boyfriends are fine too." The sumptuous meal was quickly put on the table, and everyone sat cross-legged around the low table.

"nei, I, you, fruit, wine, oh." The boy who didn't know when he hid in the closet, found that no one was going to wait for him, and when he was about to eat, he had to come out by himself.

Zhong Yuanzhong also saw that his treasured fruit wine was found again.

Mackerel is simply the nemesis of fruit wine.

"Cough." Saitama pinched Nakahara Chuya's hand and coughed lightly, "I've always had a problem and I want everyone to help me out."

Everyone quieted down in unison and listened attentively.

"My hair is getting thinner and I feel like it's no secret."

"But at my age, the hair starts to thin out, and there is a possibility of going bald later."

"I want to hide this secret, completely and thoroughly."

This is a very contradictory statement. This secret has already been guessed by the geniuses, and now Saitama has said it again, and if he tries to hide it again, it will become like his sharpest hair trying to smash his strongest shield.

But everyone is trying to find a solution.

So much so that they were very quiet during the meal, but tacitly finished the fruit wine that Osamu Dazai took out, leaving only a small sip for Nakahara Nakaya to look at the bottom of the cup.

The orange-haired boy was full of depression.

"Tomorrow, it's just us eating sugar, wine and eggs."

"it is good."

Saitama breathed a sigh of relief.

Sensing the undercurrent surging in the hut, Oda and Ango slipped away first after eating and drinking.

Osamu Dazai lay on the floor on his back, watching Saitama and Nakahara Chuya clean up the table together, "A machine without emotion, he has no education, he has been locked up since he was a child, and has been twisted into a hell beast, why do you still want to help him?" he?"

And he also used his secret as an excuse to ask everyone for help.

What he really wanted to hide was not the hair loss problem at all, but the little boy in the orphanage.

"He is illiterate, can't speak clearly, and only has hatred and a huge inferiority complex in his heart."

"If you save him, maybe he will kill you backhanded."

"People are the most fickle."

Especially those desperate people who have never felt warmth and only learned to destroy.

Saitama wiped his hands with a towel, squatted next to Osamu Dazai, and looked down at him.

The boy quickly closed his eyes, not daring to look at him, he even lost his breath.

Rather than waiting for a tormenting trial, it is better to die first.

"It's my business to save him. It's his business to do what he does."

"People are born without emotions, they only know how to eat, drink, and scatter. Some children are lucky, have been well-educated, and gradually learn emotions; some children are miserable, and have no chance to learn or touch , but you can’t reject him just because of this.”

"He doesn't have a chance to learn, at least give him a chance, if he learns how to feel and still fails, then I'll throw him away!"

It's up to him to save him. As for what will happen to him, no one else can control him, and he can only look at himself.

The boy lying on the floor took a quick breath, his kite-colored eyes showed great horror, "Wow, the machine without emotion is so scary, I want to throw it away."

"Chuya." Saitama stood up.

"It's time to sleep."

"Throw Mr. Dazai out."

In the middle of the night, he was still staying in other people's residences, not to mention hindering the making of the bed. He also drank a lot of fruit wine, and kept irritating Zhongya Zhongyuan who had barely drunk the fruit wine.

Fortunately, Saitama rested in time and prevented this.

The moment he realized that he was dreaming, Saitama thought that he would not dream again in a short time.

The small, windowless secret room suppressed ferocious roars.

"Dun?" Saitama ran over quickly, trying to wake up the boy.

The little boy who was only a little over ten years old raised his face, stiffened his body, and let out a terrifying beast roar from his throat.

It's worse than anything I've seen before.

He has completely lost consciousness.

Saitama finds herself unable to help.

Everything in the dream was real and unreal, and when he was anxious, he lost his calm and sense of proportion, and even the dream began to look distorted and collapsed.

"Dun?"

But can't give up.

"Atsushi Nakajima!"

By the way, name.

After the girl in the dream taught the little boy to write his own name, he instantly calmed down.

Saitama began to rummage through his pockets, and soon found a piece of paper with the boy's name on it that was folded nicely.

The moment the paper was taken out, the little boy suddenly calmed down, and even became rational.

"Mr. Saitama?"

"Why is your situation more serious today than before?"

"Did something happen?"

Atsushi Nakajima hesitated, "During the day, the dean brought a person. I was still asleep at that time. I didn't know who he was. I only knew that he came to see me."

Since writing his name, Atsushi Nakajima has been awake longer and longer during the day, but he didn't let the dean know that he deliberately behaved as usual, otherwise, he would be dosed harder.

While he was pretending to be asleep, he heard a stranger come to see him.

"He said my glow was beautiful, it was just immature."

"To ripen."

"The dean asked him to help."

As for what to help, the dean didn't say anything, so he didn't know what it was.

Just after saying this, Atsushi Nakajima's body suddenly froze, his body seemed to be smoking, and there was even a burnt smell in the air.

He lost his mind again.

"problem occurs."

"I'm going to take a look." "How will the dream end..."

Everyone's dream is very magical, and in most cases, it is not under the control of the dreamer. The dreamer can only passively watch the dream, or participate in the dream.

As for when the dream will end, sometimes we can only wait passively.

I don't know how long it took, but Qiyu felt that he should have woken up from a dream.

He found himself in a familiar residence, wearing the cartoon pajamas he changed before going to bed.

Before he had time to change his clothes, he ran to the door to put on his shoes, opened the door and ran out.

The road from Radium Bowl Street to the orphanage is not too far, and usually we either walk slowly or ask Nakahara Chuya to help us fly there.

Saitama started jogging.

After a short period of adaptation, the jogging turned into a fast running, and the speed became faster and faster. In the end, only the afterimage of the boy's body was left in the air, and he could no longer be caught with the eyes.

He ran into the orphanage and into the innermost part of the secret room.

The heavy stone door was slowly opened under the action of the mechanism, Qi Yu slipped in through the opened door, and the door slowly closed behind him.

There are more weird instruments in the secret room that I haven't seen before, and the long wires extend to the center, sticking to the little boy.

He was firmly restrained, and his body had no room to move freely.

Terrifying electric current swept across the whole body along the wire, accompanied by the smell of burning, the little boy screamed in pain.

"Who are you?" Saitama slowly turned his head, moving slower than usual, looking at the man who appeared at the other end of the secret room.

The man didn't notice the existence of Saitama, he looked at the white crystals that gradually condensed in front of the little boy's body without blinking.

The beautiful white light flooded the eyes, which was a color that had never been seen before.

"The dean is wrong."

"Your color is very beautiful, it's just hidden too deep."

Therefore, it is necessary to rely on electric shocks to draw out the supernatural powers deep in the little boy's body.

"He's in pain."

The state in the memory in my mind is like this: there are few things I care about, and no matter what happens, I can solve it with my fist.

When you are not completely strong, you may need a lot of punches.

Saitama doesn't know how many punches he will use now, and there is no need to predict in advance, he just needs to try.

Obvious fist marks appeared on the man's face, his obsessed expression finally recovered, and he finally saw the person who punched.

"Who are you?" he asked.

A white mist spread over Saitama's body, quickly covering him up.

The man had a relaxed expression on his face.