Super Detective in the Fictional World

Tokyo is an interesting place.

Luke found it interesting, not because it was busy, but because it was crowded.

With so many people, so many things, so many crimes, experience points are naturally everywhere.

Some are truly outrageous, some are strange.

Luke did a good thing. The light car knew the way, hidden in the dark, far away was a little ice bead thrown over.

In storage space, this bulk makes as much ice beads as possible.

Throw it anywhere and destroy it automatically.

I didn't use this before, mainly because it doesn't weigh enough and the range is easy to float.

But with the primary precision of the target eye, combined with powerful power, within 50 meters, knockouts will never blow your head off.

Not to say that he sympathizes with the criminals, but ordinary crimes also come to an end, which, like the keyboard judges of the previous life, started the death penalty indefinitely.

Knocking things out is the least of my hassles.

In Tokyo, drunkards in the middle of the night are common.

As to whether these “drunk" criminals will be assaulted by others, it is not Luke's concern.

It's too covert to do good, and neither the criminal nor the victim saw the little ice bead in the dark.

Many ghost stories spread in Tokyo the next day, some from criminals and some from victims, both of whom were intimidated by the afterthought.

After Los Angeles and New York, Luke built on it, adding a horrible urban legend to Tokyo.

He didn't feel it at all, just watched the system add more than 6,000 experience points overnight.

Of course, street criminals don't get this high score, but they end up with three drug nests overnight, with a lot less to gain, and that's the number.

The ancients did not deceive me without walking thousands of miles. Luke looked out the window, his mouth lifted, and he took a sip of coffee.

“Ah, are you an actor?” A girl's voice came from his side.

Luke's side head: “No. Besides, I don't take pictures, I don't exchange phone numbers, thank you. ”

After that, he turned around again and ignored the twenty-seventh girl who came up to talk to him this morning.

It's interesting to have a chat with a female Guest in a maid's cafe, but it's just interesting.

Needless to say, among the girls I met yesterday and today, that little girl in the white dress was barely within his grasp.

But the taste is getting higher and higher, and he's really not interested in having fun in Neon.

With a single Max on the New York side, the "absolute height” of the chest alone can slag 99.99% of Neon women in seconds.

Big men who are used to eating two bows have a hard time being interested in ten bows and twenty bows.

As for the maid... Luke had to sigh.

It can only be said that when a quadratic becomes a quadratic, fantasy is always too easy to break.

Even though he chose the most expensive and the best maid coffee shop in Akihabara, the quality of the maid is alright.

And most of the other "maids” he saw along the way in Akihabara hadn't talked to his sister by the side of the road about the high quality of the paper - it was hard for her poor condition to have the courage to talk to him.

Of course, the overall standard of these "maids" is much higher than that of ordinary neon women and is sufficient for residential men and tourists.

On the other hand, the beverage food in this maid's cafe is equally so-so.

Coffee material is good, barista skills are unclear, but the gardening technique is good, which is a biased “American” Guest like Luke who doesn't taste right.

He ordered a blue mountain and a cappuccino.

Blue Mountain is for himself.

It is well known that the Neon monopolize more than half of the production of real Blue Mountain coffee beans.

Luke thinks maybe they're making Blue Mountain coffee. What's their unique skill?

As a result... he didn't drink much and felt like a coffee maker product in the police lounge.

Cappuccino is sweet and milky.

This is what Deserina tasted, just one bite, and someone immediately helps her refuse to take another.

And finally, the legendary beloved egg meal.

The loveliest little maid in the shop looked at the little star and asked him what the tomato sauce on the omelet wanted to draw, and he hesitated: "Anything? ”

The little maid's heart was all over his face, and the words were just subconscious nods: "Yes, master, our craftsmanship is amazing. ”

Luke nodded and sighed for two seconds: "Then draw a wing up to zero EW. ”

Little maid: (; ')?

Looking at her expression, Luke nodded sadly: "I don't think so. In exchange for assaulting Freedom up to? ”

Little maid: (Tsuki⊂)!

Luke was helpless: "Well, forget it, just draw one. ”

“Okay, master.” The little maid left in a complicated mood.

Soon she came back to deliver the egg rice and looked at him with her eyes open: "Master, this pattern… are you satisfied? ”

Luke looked at the cute breeze on the pencil, Katie + Heart, and stopped playing the funny "two seconds of silence," just slightly turning his head and acknowledging it.

Let's just say it's satisfying, it's too underestimating the way someone likes to drill into cooking.

If you're not satisfied, it's a little unfair.

He came into this homestead-style coffee shop, and technically the taste of beverage food was not its selling point, but rather the paper of his sister was beautiful enough to be delicate.

Luke also wanted to experience the “spot” that the homeboys bragged about in their previous lives before choosing a few other great coffee or food stores.

Tourism, that's it.

Naturally, you have to suffer the result of "meeting is less famous” if you want to taste beautiful food, and most of it is.

As he walked out of the coffee shop, Luke tipped the lovely little maid a Fukusawa message.

lest she look at the one who ate the egg rice with tears.

And Luke refused her photography offer at the beginning - just because of his face right now, didn't the photography go backwards and give away white tickets!

So he chose to tip enough.

Where did Fukusawa come from? Sponsored by these enthusiastic associations in Tokyo, of course.

Compared to more than a dozen cubic Franklin (a hundred dollar knives) piles in space, Fukusawa Orange harvested less than a suitcase last night.

That's not enough money for one night.

But in the next few days, he can get a little money from a drug dealer in Tokyo, and the Japan Tourism and Food Fund should be fine.

Out of the coffee shop, he has nowhere to go for the time being.

Tokyo has plenty of views, but he's also interested in cherry blossoms and maid cafes.

The rest of the shrines and temples are completely unattractive, as are buildings like the modern landmark Tokyo Tower.

So he honestly found a fancy cafe at the top of the building and sat alone in a window in the corner.

There are no passers-by here, and there won't be any women around every three or five minutes.

And the drone signals are better.

Combined with a high position and two contrasts, it is convenient for him to familiarize himself with Tokyo terrain.

(3rd corrigendum in code)