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Volume 002: The Quietly Disappearing Bonito

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    It was a morning like always.

    The sky in London is as foggy as ever.

    Mr. Evans, who lives on Christchurch Road, opened his small shop at seven o'clock in the morning as usual.

    The small shop run by Mr. Evans is a very common restaurant in England, the kind that only sells fish and chips.

    Although it is not a well-known old shop, Evans' small shop is quite well-known in the area near Christchurch Road. Those office workers who don't have time to cook often come here to solve their food and clothing problems.

    Unlike most fish and chip shops, Evans does not use cod as the main material for frying fish, but ingeniously chooses larger bonito.

    And the reason why Mr. Evans chose skipjack

    That is of course because skipjack is cheaper!

    As for the taste The fried fish he sells are cheap and large in quantity. Is taste important?  Anyway, it's almost the same after frying.

    Besides, it is not that Mr. Evans underestimates himself. With the tongues of most of his compatriots, it is indeed not an easy task to distinguish the difference between bonito and cod.

    After opening the store door, Mr. Evans hummed a ditty that he couldn't hear the original tune, and came to the kitchen to start processing the ingredients.

    Although choosing cheaper bonito as raw material, Mr. Evans still has his own insistence¡ªall fish are fresh live fish.

    The bonito in the kitchen was the one he had just pulled from old Wright, still alive and kicking.

    Reaching out to grab a bonito, Evans skillfully threw it on the chopping board. The bonito, which was still struggling, passed out in an instant, and was quickly disassembled by Evans with a kitchen knife, and neatly piled aside  on the plate.

    After handling a dozen bonito in the same steps, Mr. Evans stopped his work, picked up the plate containing the fish, and was about to coat them with flour and bread crumbs, and then put them into the oil pan  fried.

    However, as soon as Mr. Evans picked up the plate, he immediately realized that something was wrong.

    It's lighter.

    Mr. Evans, who has been in this business for more than ten years, has a clear idea of ??how much fish he has cut. The weight of the fish in his hand is obviously slightly different from the amount he cut.

    "strangeness¡­¡­"

    Mr. Evans looked around, but found no fallen fish on the ground.

    Could it be that when I just cut the fish, I accidentally threw the fish meat and internal organs and bones into the trash can?

    He scratched his dwindling hair suspiciously, but Mr. Evans didn't pay much attention to it. Anyway, from the feeling, there were probably two to three pieces of fish missing, and it wasn't worth wasting time for this piece of fish, because the first  A batch of customers is coming soon.

    Mr. Evans, who put this matter aside, fried fish and chips as usual according to the original procedure.

    Even after the guests arrived, Mr. Evans took this matter as a conversation piece and chatted with those old customers.

    However, what Mr. Evans never expected was that today is just the beginning.

    As the days passed, Mr. Evans lost fish more and more frequently, and the amount of fish lost was also increasing. He even rummaged through the trash can, not throwing the fish into it by himself.

    However, no matter how carefully Mr. Evans protected the cut fish, he still couldn't stop the disappearance of the fish. He even put the plate containing the fish under his nose, but the fish seemed to have grown legs.  Gone in the blink of an eye.

    After experiencing the mysterious disappearance of fish again, Mr. Evans finally couldn't bear it anymore and hired a seven-year-old little John from the neighbor's John's house to find out how his fish disappeared.  .

    It was another new morning, and Mr. Evans brought Little John to his small shop. He let Little John get into the box he had already prepared, while he handled the fresh bonito according to his usual habits.  fish.

    Little John hid in the box on the side, staring at the plate on the table through the gap of the box.

    At first nothing happened, but as the amount of fish gradually increased, a ghostly figure suddenly appeared on the cabinet above Mr. Evans' head.

    It was a silver-gray tabby cat. Little John couldn't tell if he belonged to the British Shorthair or the American Shorthair. The kitten didn't look very old, and its size was only a little bigger than an adult's palm. It had a pair of emerald green eyes  Through the gap in the cabinet, staring at the fish on the table.

      The kitten turned its ears, as if aware of Little John's presence, its big green eyes turned to the box where he was hiding, and stopped there for a moment.

    Little John met the pair of emerald green eyes through the gap in the box, and covered his mouth and nose with his little hands, fearing that he would accidentally disturb the kitten by making a sound.

    Seemingly aware that Little John didn't intend to stop him, the tabby kitten withdrew his gaze and refocused on the bonito meat on the table.

    After confirming that Mr. Evans was not paying attention to the fish, the tabby kitten floated down from the cabinet like a ghost, and landed gently on the table without making a sound.

    Turning his head and glanced at Mr. Evans, who was still immersed in his work, the tabby kitten quickly picked up a piece of fish on the plate, swung its head upwards twice, and swallowed it smoothly, and then he followed the same steps  He quickly devoured the fish that was almost as big as his body, and then lightly jumped onto the cabinet, ran along the top of the cabinet to the skylight of the kitchen, slipped out through the gap of the skylight and disappeared.

    It wasn't until the tabby kitten left that Little John jumped out of the box excitedly.

    "Uncle Evans! I see it! That's a beautiful kitten!"

    Little John danced excitedly, described the appearance of the kitten to Mr. Evans, and pleaded with Mr. Evans on behalf of the kitten: "Anyway, it doesn't eat much, Uncle Evans, please don't hurt it!  If not, I can pay for it with my pocket money!"

    Looking at the excited little John, Mr. Evans touched his head in amazement. He knew that Little John wanted a football with all his heart, and he had saved money for a long time.  Even to the extent of that famous old miser at the corner tailor's.

    What kind of magical power does that fish-stealing kitten have to make Little John give up his favorite football.

    but¡­¡­

    Is that cat's appetite a bit big?

    According to Little John's gestures, it should be just a little milk cat, how could it eat so much

    Perhaps the gap in the box was too small for Little John to see clearly.

    Mr. Evans shook his head and smiled, then patted Little John on the head and said, "You should save your money to buy football. I can still afford the fish."

    So Evans' small shop has another talking point today, that is the mysterious silver-gray tabby kitten that only Little John has seen.
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