Chapter 51 p2
“We need to restock the ingredients in the fridge,” in the supermarket, Amuro took out his shopping list and went through it one by one.
The dark-haired girl stood beside him, her soul already gone.
She stared with nostalgia at the butcher in the fresh meat section, who was slaughtering on the spot. And with a hint of criticism.
“Too many unnecessary movements,” Fan An criticized. “The way he holds the boning knife is also wrong. He can’t deliver a fatal blow with one stab, and the blood will splash everywhere. Not elegant at all.”
Miss An’s occupational disease was in full swing.
Amuro took the opportunity to switch the “Beika’s Finest Knives: Chop Your Whole Family Three-Piece Set” that An’an had put in the shopping cart at some point back to its original place.
“It’s also fine not to buy a new knife,” the dark-haired girl’s eyes glinted with mischief. “The apron at home needs to be replaced.”
Amuro: Are you already tired of the cat waiter?
Fickle An’an.
But he was not going to wear a maid’s outfit. Please, get that idea out of your head.
“Please, I want to take a photo for my lock screen wallpaper,” the girl said, her hands clasped together in a plea.
A public figure, a famous actress in the rising stage of her career, was willing to use her boyfriend’s photo as her lock screen wallpaper. To call it true love would not be an exaggeration.
Amuro: But I refuse.
An undercover Public Security officer cannot, at least should not, be seen in a maid’s apron by his star-chasing distillery colleagues.
What if Vodka, in a burst of fan power, bought the same one? The image was too beautiful. Bourbon really didn’t dare to look.
“I suddenly feel that a new knife isn’t a bad idea,” Amuro said, picking up the “Beika’s Finest Knives: Chop Your Whole Family Three-Piece Set” and putting it back in the shopping cart.
The blade glinted, reflecting the light and blurring the paparazzi’s lens.
Passerby Ding: “Ahhh, another ruined shot!”
Was the target doing it on purpose, or was it an accident? Or was it a deliberate accident?
The curse of ruined shots seemed to have attached itself to Passerby Ding. He didn’t succeed a single time after that.
Autumn-special roasted chestnuts. The girl carefully peeled a particularly perfect one and proudly showed it off to her boyfriend, only to have it bitten by the blond young man.
The paparazzi tried to capture the moment her fingertip was bitten, but a hard chestnut flew from somewhere and hit Passerby Ding’s hand, making his eyes well up with tears.
To avenge the chestnut, An’an said, “Here’s your coffee, as a return gift for the milk tea,” but had maliciously bought a hot Americano that tasted like Chinese medicine. Amuro drank it without batting an eye. “Caramel macchiato? It’s pretty sweet.”
“Really?” The girl, thinking she had gotten the wrong coffee, leaned over and took a sip from his straw.
“It is, it’s sweet,” An’an licked the corner of her lips.
Now it was Amuro’s turn to be confused. He took another sip. This malicious Chinese medicine taste that goes straight to your head!
“Don’t challenge my profession with your hobby,” the professional actress Miss An said.
In terms of profession, Amuro was also a professional undercover agent. A man with three faces would not easily admit defeat.
His facial control was worthy of his excellent grades at the police academy. “Of course it’s sweet. I told you, it’s a caramel macchiato.”
The two actors looked at each other. This game of mutual destruction continued, with both of them gritting their teeth.
Passerby Ding didn’t understand the world of actors. He only saw a couple sharing a cup of coffee with one straw, you let me, I let you, full of lovey-dovey.
He tried hard to get a shot, but because the two of them were moving around in the frame, every shot was blurry. Another ruined shot.
“I need… a shot… a shot…” Passerby Ding crawled in the shadows, as if possessed by a vengeful spirit.
He blindly followed his target, not noticing that the sky was gradually getting dark.
The pedestrians on the street were getting fewer and fewer. One by one, the shops hung up their “Closed” signs at sunset.
“Sorry, something suddenly came up,” Amuro said apologetically. “Will An’an be okay going back to the apartment alone?”
“Totally OK,” Fan An nodded, refusing his offer to take her back first. “I get along very well with the Beika night.”
Amuro believed that. Beika and its chosen resident had always had a mutual relationship.
The dark-haired girl waved goodbye to her boyfriend and walked home alone.
Passerby Ding looked at the two people going in different directions, hesitating about who to follow.
Where Fan An was, there was traffic. But her mysterious boyfriend also seemed to be very interesting… After some deliberation, the paparazzi still chose to follow the girl.
“You chose wrong,” Amuro said flatly.
Well, it didn’t matter, because both were the wrong answers.
Passerby Ding didn’t know that in Beika at night, his only way to survive was to immediately take a taxi to the police station.
The paparazzi, unaware, walked step by step into the abyss.
He was afraid of being discovered by Fan An and only dared to follow her from a distance.
Passerby Ding passed a jewelry store.
Crash!
The shop window suddenly shattered, a spiderweb of cracks spreading out. A few robbers with stockings on their heads, carrying large bags, bumped into Passerby Ding.
The Paparazzi: “AAAAAAAH!”
A robbery! Where are the police? Where are the police?!
A car stopped beside Passerby Ding. Tears streamed from his eyes. “Help! A robbery—”
In the back seat, a kidnapped bald company president had a smelly sock stuffed in his mouth. “Mmmph, mmmph!”
The Paparazzi: (cracks apart.jpg)
He let out a blood-curdling scream and, with the speed he had developed from being chased by celebrity bodyguards after his scoops were exposed, he ran for his life.
Passerby Ding discovered with horror that with every step he ran, a gunshot would ring out in Beika. Every ten steps, an explosion would go off, as if it were playing music for him.
“Th-this… this is Beika at night…”
Passerby Ding suddenly remembered his seniors’ deep-seated fear of this famous City of Crime, and their sincere advice to buy a huge life insurance policy after he had taken this job.
His seniors had not lied to him!
Endless regret flooded Passerby Ding, but he had no time for tears. To get out of this city alive, there was only one way.
“I was wrong! Help me! Please!”
The paparazzi slid in front of Fan An, his knees going weak as he prostrated himself on the ground.
Fan An: “???”
“Who are you?” she didn’t recognize the person crying and snotting in front of her. “A late-night confessor wandering the streets?”
“I… sob,” Passerby Ding choked. “I’m an ignorant out-of-towner.”
Fan An understood. She looked at the smoke-filled Beika and said objectively, “Today is actually very peaceful. You see, there are no Ospreys flying in the sky.”
Passerby Ding didn’t speak, only continued to cry.
“Don’t be afraid. You’ll be fine once you leave this place,” Fan An comforted him considerately. “Did you drive here? It’s fine if you didn’t. You can just randomly hijack a car on the street. They’re all illegal taxis anyway.”
Passerby Ding had driven here, but his navigation system had started flashing a strange red light after nightfall in Beika. He had associated it with a bomb and hadn’t dared to touch it.
“It’s just a danger alert,” Fan An explained. “This navigation system isn’t very popular in Beika. Maybe everyone thinks it’s too noisy because it’s on 24/7.”
Passerby Ding: Since I bought this car, the alert has never been red…
What kind of place is Beika? And why can you Beika residents live here so nonchalantly?!
Fan An helped him reset the navigation. “Follow this road, and after two stolen goods markets and a mass grave, you’ll be at the border of Beika.”
“I hope you can see the sun tomorrow,” she said with sincere blessings.
Even though he had been following her all day, she had still extended a helping hand. Passerby Ding wiped his wet eyes and gave a heavy-nosed “mhm.”
Following the route the girl had given him, the paparazzi gradually left Beika and returned to the world he was familiar with.
“What a tumultuous day.”
Finally home, Passerby Ding sat down in his computer chair and took out his precious camera.
He had taken many photos. The solo shots of the dark-haired girl were all very good, as if he were a photographer she had specially hired.
The couple photos were a complete failure, so blurry that you couldn’t even see their faces. The paparazzi flipped through them one by one, his finger suddenly trembling.
In a photo so blurry that the background was unrecognizable, the blond young man seemed to have just casually looked back, but his purple-gray eyes were filled with a cold threat.
A coincidence… or not? The paparazzi subconsciously clicked delete, deleting the photo that had scared him.
He remembered now. When he had pressed the shutter, the girl had seemed to be protected in her lover’s arms.
The warning was too strong, making Passerby Ding have to consider the possibility that his secret photography had been discovered.
“Tsk, what’s there to be afraid of? This is a big story.”
The desire for fame and fortune overcame his inner fear and the guilt of repaying kindness with enmity. The paparazzi opened his computer and uploaded the photos from his camera.
He had a dedicated folder for his secret photos. The memory was already several Gs full, all the fruits of his paparazzi career.
The progress bar gradually loaded. Passerby Ding wondered which photos to submit.
“There aren’t many usable ones. Maybe I should try to Photoshop them?” the paparazzi said to himself.
The sudden warning sound from the computer startled him.
A screen full of red pop-ups appeared. The program error icon was reflected in the paparazzi’s panicked eyes.
“Wait, wait!” he frantically pounded the keyboard. “What’s going on? A hacker?!”
Passerby Ding ignored the photos that were uploading and pulled the power cord.
The computer screen went black. He restarted it with trepidation.
The flashing red light and the error icon once again illuminated the paparazzi’s devastated face.
“My photos—!!!”
…
“Bourbon, what’s wrong on your end?” Vodka asked.
In the darkness, the light from the computer screen shone on the side of the undercover Public Security officer’s face.
“Nothing,” Bourbon said lightly. “Just a little personal business.”