Trafford’s Trading Club

But in the end, Mahoud felt that what was mentioned in a book 30 years ago was linked to the current case, far too subtle, let alone under the premise that the author had died.

So Ma SIR shook his head, “But it happened to us, not abroad, didn't it? I said," Qin, why don't you let go of this so-called hypothesis and see what else you can give me? "”

“Footprints were found at the scene.” Old Qin probably also felt that what he said was somewhat illogical, so he didn't insist: “After excluding the police and the informant, only one group was a stranger. Depending on the depth of the footprint, it should belong to a thinner person. It could be a man of short stature or a woman. ”

“Will the murderer stay?” Mahoud frowned.

Old Qin shook his head: “Not necessarily, it is also possible that the informant was not the first to find out. Who else was here before him, just didn't choose to report the incident... just? ”

“But what? ”

“Normally, if it was panic, the footprints wouldn't look like this...” Old Qin deflected, strangely: “It looks like a slow walk away. ”

“Well... didn't you say there were other wounds on the victim? What's going on?”

“These are animal wounds.” Old Qin frowned again: “There are cats and dogs... very messy. ”

“Little animals eat people?” Mahoud was stunned... he felt that the murder was getting more and more confusing.

Ultimately, Ma SIR also did not get any significant and useful information. He scratched his head and left Lao Qin's office, returning to his department with smoke.

Recently, Ma SIR was very free and regained his former charm.

As for why?

Of course, it's because the young ‘god detective’ from the provincial bureau didn't know what was going on. He hasn't been here for a long time to squat, and the mystery doesn't know what he's doing.

The only thing Mahoud knows is -- he hasn't left the city yet.

“Ah... so annoying!” Mahoud finished smoking a cigarette, still clueless, and muttered: “Let's sweep the thunder first, shall we? ”

……

……

Hung Guan is washing clothes for his wife in the ward - it's almost time for Kim Ziyao's prenatal, two weeks.

Naturally, the old uncle of the garage would not tie up Hong Guan to work at this time, but rather give Hong Guan a fair amount of vacation and pay.

“Hung Guan, someone is looking for you! ”

Hung Guan in the bathroom listened to his wife and put something down and walked out —— there was a man here.

A courier... old man? The old man with the blast head? So avant-garde?

He looked at his wife's face, and was probably surprised by the avant-garde, and sneaked up on her.

“This… Sir, do you deliver?” Hong Guan asked unexpectedly.

“Can't I deliver?” The old courier glanced and pulled the mark on his chest, “The water meter courier. Haven't you heard of it? ”

“Not really...” Hung Guan shook his head and said: “But I didn't buy anything? ”

But the old man in the blast seemed very impatient. When things were put down, he asked Hong Guan to sign them, and then he left quickly without saying a word.

“What is this?” Jin Ziyao asked curiously.

Hung Guan shook his head and took the package apart —— it was actually a briefcase or something, and it was thin, and it didn't look like it contained anything.

Hung Guan removed a small envelope from inside. After opening it, Hung Guan suddenly looked at his wife and said, “This is the ticket, the TV...”

And the ticket to the upcoming show "The Singer"... Hong Guan frowned, besides Cheng, he couldn't think of anyone else to send him this kind of thing.

But... why did you send it?

……

……

“A lot of people. ”

Lochu looked at the people who couldn't stop watching the river - these people were waiting to be admitted. Of course, how many of these were arranged long ago for tears in front of the camera, and how many were lucky enough to be drawn...

Boss Luo is naturally not idle, boring to wave with his life to buy this useless intelligence.

This is the studio where The Singer was recorded —— how could the club's owner and maid come?

Let's just say there's nowhere else in the world where these two can't go.

“After all, 800 public judges.” Unight also weighed a little bit of the scene, then cautioned with great diligence: "Master, Miss Ren and Miss Pear are also here, over there. ”

Lochu also took a casual look, "It's just the media coming over, don't worry… let's go in. ”

The boss, with his maid, walked in front of the staff on the scene and, before he had been officially admitted, had arrived at the first row of positions in front of the stage and found a seat at the end.

Someone will know who is sitting here, but no one will know who is sitting here... and no one will remember, even the impression will spontaneously dissipate.

The boss suddenly reduced his presence and that of Unight to almost zero.

“Speaking of which, I haven't even seen you use your cell phone?” Lochu took the phone out and put it in a mute state.

Even though his presence almost disappeared, he would consciously do something ordinary - even if it seemed so redundant.

Lochu also noticed his actions. He explained to himself that -- presumably, he was still insisting on being part of the human race.

But there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with it.

“Unight doesn't need this.” The maid smiled, “The master's call, I can hear it the first time, and I don't need it. ”

Will you be lonely?

Lo Qiu suddenly remembered this idea.

He remembers Unight sitting alone in the club.

The lights were dimmed or even turned off, but she sat there quietly, straightened, her hands closed to her legs, her eyes closed... just waiting for someone to come and open them again.

And the old clock coming out of the wall, it's a downward knock.

Knock, knock, it doesn't make sense to her.

“In the earliest days, humans didn't need it either.” Lochu looked at his cell phone, “he said.“ Face-to-face conversation, eyes to eyes, or handles, or sitting together, is always closer than ever. ”

“But distance needs it.” Night after night, “said Night after Night," this is human progress. ”

“But there's some distance...” Lochu looked at the stage and said softly: “It doesn't have to be like this before it can disappear. ”

But when it came to this, Rochu suddenly shook his head, pointing to the center of the stage: “Not yet, but since you're here, let me take a picture for you. ”

The boss's palm flipped, and the old out of print Hassel 500C naturally appeared on his palm.

Lochu took Yunight's hand to the center of the stage and smiled, “For now, you belong here, okay? ”

The lights on the stage suddenly turned on.

……

……

“Oddly enough, who turned on the stage lights? ”

As the clock dust walked down the corridor, he heard a staff member rushing past - of course, he didn't care.

He just walked into a more special viewing room, accompanied by Cheng Yun - under the studio are the popular seats and there are the first seats left for the jury - but naturally there are places like the VIP seats that are high and low.

Cheng Yun didn't expect this Second Major to plan to attend such an occasion... When he learned that the clock had fallen to dust, he rushed to arrange it. As for the reason, the master does not say, and naturally he does not ask too many questions.

That's an excellent quality for a sidekick.

Of course, the director of this television station is technically a member of the Second Young Family faction, and it is naturally easier to arrange such a place.

“Second Major, you wait here. I'll get you something to drink and see how Cheng is prepared. Then I'll wait for Miss Zhang at the door and bring her here. ”

“Go on.” The clock nodded with dust.

He sat down on his own and did not open the curtain in front, but closed his eyes quietly - naturally he had no interest in this kind of competition.

He just wanted to see what Cheng could do... and whether tonight, as he did at KC that day, could make the audience as drunk as 800 people on the scene.

“If there is such a magical ‘magic'.” The clock laughs at itself: “But it's really worth investing in. ”

……

Outside the TV station, Hung Guan pinched the ticket on his hand and hesitated... I don't know if I should go in.

He still has the same number as Cheng.

But he hasn't fought in a long time.