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Text Chapter 713 Dave¡¯s World (12)

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    In the next ten minutes, Feng Bujue ate five bowls of snacks and drank eight glasses of water from a whiskey glass.

    When he opened the game menu again, the feeling of hunger and thirst disappeared completely, and the physical value returned to 1902/4800, and even the survival value was slightly improved, reaching more than 70%.

    It seems that in this script, the "recovery" and "attenuation" ratios of various values ????are the same, and they are all based on the actual body feeling of the character.  In shortthe money you use up quickly gets back quickly.

    In addition, while Brother Jue was chewing food, he also did not forget to use this time to communicate with NPCs.

    Although the speech is a bit unclear, the two NPCs have very good hearing and can completely understand what Brother Jue means.

    Therefore, he successfully got close to these two people.

    "Okay we have talked a lot about my affairs." After making up for it, Feng Bujue drank another glass of water, rinsed his mouth, and then changed the topic, "Why don't we chat  Let¡¯s talk about you two¡­¡±

    As soon as these words came out, the expressions on the faces of the shooter and Yang immediately changed.

    But Brother Jue didn't care about this. He didn't leave the other party time to think, and quickly asked: "I wonder how long it has been since you two came to this town?"

    Click - click -

    One point and five seconds later, the muzzles of the two guns were aimed at Feng Bujue's temple and forehead respectively.

    In that one point and five seconds, Yang took out a shotgun from under the bar with lightning speed; and the shooter uncle took out a revolver directly from himself, and he drew the gun quickly  As fast as lightning, a real cowboy is probably no more than that.

    "Oh~oh~calm downcalm down" Feng Bujue quickly raised his hands and stood up from the chair at the bar.  And took half a step back.

    "Tell me! Who are you?" Yang asked in a cold voice, "Did the fuck send you here?"

    "I don't think he looks like it." The shooter uncle continued, "It looks more like a CIA" The muzzle of his gun slowly moved down, "Otherwise let's break one of his legs first, and then ask slowly  ¡­¡±

    "Hey! Don't mess around!" Feng Bujue's eyes widened.  He showed a frightened look with very exaggerated acting skills, and then said, "I just came to town to apply for a job as a postman!"

    "Yes, you have just said this rhetoric." The shooter replied with a grin, "But we don't believe a word of it" He glanced at Yang, "Right. Old man."

    "That's right" Yang continued, "I didn't realize it at first, and I thought he was just someone who came in for food and drink" He paused and looked back at the shooter, "until you winked at me.  . Only then did I realizehow could someone walk into the bar to drink water and eat snacks at noon?" At this point, he tightened his grip on the gun a little more, glared at Brother Jue and said, "You obviously are.  Come to us!¡±

    "Hey I don't know you at all" Feng Bujue broke into a cold sweat.

    But those two people still ignored his words

    "Just go ahead" the shooter continued with a smile, "I felt there was something wrong with you as soon as you entered the bar door, and I asked you to stay just to test you" He snorted coldly, "Huh temporary postman  ?Who are you lying to?" He also held the gun a little tighter, as if he was ready to pull the trigger at any time.  "Just last night, a man came to the store who claimed to be going to the post office for an interview. Even if there are multiple temporary postmen in the town today, it would be him"

    "Wait!" Feng Bujue suddenly raised his voice and said, "The person you are talking aboutis he wearing a very elegant felt hat?"

    "Huh?" The shooter was obviously stunned when he heard this.

    Seeing the other party¡¯s reaction, Brother Jue felt a little calmer. He knew there was something going on in this matter.

    "How do you know?" Shooter and Yang exchanged glances and asked.

    ¡°I saw him at the post office in the morning.¡± Feng Bujue replied truthfully.  "He and I both came for interviews, but he didn't get the chance to be a temporary postman."

    "Oh?" Yang answered suspiciously.  "Why?" He looked at Brother Jue up and down and asked again.  "Is it because you are a little more handsome than him?"

    "No" Feng Bujue shook his head, "Because he was a few minutes late and was shot dead by Director Nelson"

    "Well" Upon hearing this, the shooter and Yang groaned at the same time, and two seconds later said in unison, "This is possible"

    "Damn! Who are you helping" Feng Bujue thought to himself, "Is this town a re-employment center for retired killers After hearing that someone was shot to death for being late, he actually showed a kind of 'I see'  tableAffection¡­¡­"

    "Wait a minute" After a few seconds, the shooter seemed to remember something again, and he continued, "How do I know if you made this up? Maybe you came to our bar last night and heard about the man in the felt hat.  What the man said, now you are just using a pre-planned rhetoric to try to get away with it."

    "That's right." Yang agreed, "How do you prove that the man was beaten to death by Nelson? How do you prove that you went to the post office in the morning?"

    "Uh that" Feng Bujue tilted his head and glanced at his coat pocket, "If you two agree, I can take out a post office temporary work permit from my coat pocket and show it to you.  It has my name on it, and Commissioner Nelson's signature." He paused, and then added, "And in my wallet, there is a driver's license with my name on it, and a photo."

    The shooter and Yang looked at each other, seeming to believe it.  But they still haven't put down their guns.

    "Take out both." After a moment, the shooter looked at Brother Jue and said, "Move slowlyyesthat's it."

    Feng Bujue followed the other party's instructions and first took out his temporary work permit and slowly placed it on the bar.  Then, he took out his wallet from his pants pocket, turned to the page with his driver's license, and held it up to the eyes of the two people.

    "Hahahaha" At this time, the shooter suddenly laughed, put away the revolver in his hand as if nothing had happened, stepped forward and gave Brother Jue a hug, "Oh! Man, I thought you were a CIA, hahaha  !¡±

    Yang, on the other hand, maintained a cold image and silently put the shotgun back under the bar: "It seems that the misunderstanding between us has been resolved."

    "I have to buy you a drink, young man." The shooter's ferocious and old-fashioned temperament disappeared in an instant, as if he had a schizophrenia, and he instantly turned back into the amiable, warm and friendly uncle, "Yang, give it to me quickly.  Our friend poured a glass of wine to calm the panic."

    Before he finished speaking, Yang pushed a glass of wine with ice cubes in front of Brother Jue, and within ten seconds, he prepared a glass of wine for himself and the boss.

    "Here's to our new postman." The shooter was the first to raise his glass.

    "Here's to the new postman." Yang also picked up the cup and answered calmly.

    Looking at the two burning eyes, Feng Bujue stared at him with dead eyes and picked up the wine glass: "Uh thank you"

    The three of them picked up the wine glasses and drank it all in one sip.

    Feng Bujue is not a big drinker. He hates the feeling of the smell of alcoholic drinks dispersing in his throat.  But just because you don't like it doesn't mean you can't drink it.

    After he finished the glass of something, his expression was no different from when he had finished drinking a glass of water: "Well where were we talking about before?"

    "As of nowno comment." Yang followed Brother Jue's words and said these four words coldly.  Obviously, he still remembers the question Feng Bujue raised earlier

    "Okay." Feng Bujue would not ask for trouble. He had already inferred from the reactions of the two NPCs that unless they tell you themselves, it is best not to ask questions about their origins. "Let's talk about something else."  Okay, so what are there a lot of fat people living in our town?"

    "Haha" The shooter showed a sly smile. He did not answer Brother Jue's question, but continued, "Listen, Dave, there is usually a price to pay for asking about things at the bar, do you understand?  "

    "Oh~ I understand." Feng Bujue opened his wallet and took out a five-dollar bill, "These should"

    "That's not what I meant." Unexpectedly, the shooter pushed his money back, "I don't want money."

    "You don't want moneyyou want people?" Feng Bujue raised his eyes and gave the other party a strange look.

    The shooter didn¡¯t pay attention to his reaction and just said to himself: ¡°When you opened your wallet just now, I saw a membership card for a darts club.¡±

    "Huh?" Feng Bujue was stunned for half a second and replied, "What do you mean"

    "There is a reason why people call me 'shooter'." The shooter continued, "Because I am very 'accurate' in whatever I play. Not just shooting with gunsincluding bows and arrows, slingshots, bowling, billiards, and  Darts are all my strengths.¡±

    "So" Feng Bujue tried to figure out what the other party meant, and then continued, "It's hard to find an opponent in this small town You want to compete with me, a member of the dart club?"

    "Haha" the shooter replied with a smile, "One round, one question."

    "Every time you lose a game, answer me a question?" Fengasked unconsciously.

    "That's right," the shooter replied.

    "What if I lose?" Feng Bujue is very sensitive to details such as bets, and he will not agree to it haphazardly.

    ¡°If you lose ten rounds in total, keep your ¡®temporary work permit¡¯.¡± The shooter replied.

    "Huh?" Feng Bujue thought, "What's the use of that? This certificate is only valid for one"

    "Of course I have my reasons." The shooter interrupted Jue Ge. Judging from his tone and demeanor, he seemed to know more about the documents than Jue Ge.

    "Well" Feng Bujue hesitated for a moment, "You have to tell me the specific rules first before I can decide"

    Hearing this, a smile appeared on the corner of the shooter's mouth, just like the expression of a fisherman when he sees a fish biting the hook: "Ah okay" (To be continued)
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