Intergalactic Era of Gossip

Chapter 27: [Play off] Is there any misunderstanding?

Views:

Maybe because he felt that it was almost done, Sells finally revealed the answer: "Through observations these days, gold-eating bugs really don't look like bugs that can commit crimes."

Nalen: "I'm so relieved that you think so."

Sells: "Now, the real criminal has come, and he needs a scapegoat, and you are the best candidates."

Naren immediately understood what he meant.

Sells: "A bug the size of a fingernail. You know what it's called?"

"How do I know?"

Sells kindly reminded: "The last time we met, I thought you were very interested in bugs."

"..." It seems that he really set himself up with a love bug setting.

Naren was silent.

Sells: "The Zombie Planet is now torn apart, there are many factions, and a group of people are vying to become the king. Could it be that you have made an agreement, similar to using the scepter of the Asha people as a bargaining chip?"

Naryn: "Us? Don't classify them indiscriminately. I have nothing to do with things like insect stars and scepters."

Sells smiled and said yes yes yes.

Nalen: "..." How did you not know that this guy was so hated

There was another movement behind him.

However, after learning from Sells that the person following behind was suspected to be a bug, the original weird atmosphere changed. Naren looked down at the ground, as if he wanted to pick out the fingernail-sized bugs in the dim light.

"Flag insects are not only small, but also can adjust their color according to the environment. They are generally used for tracking. Even if the tracked person knows that there is something behind him, it is difficult to get rid of it."

Nalen: "..." Then we need to find out!

Otherwise, this worm will follow him home, and another worm will threaten him at that time!

Next, he demonstrated his strength in the bushes in an S-shaped position, hiding, sprinting, rolling... He couldn't believe it, but he still couldn't get rid of a follower!

Yet the footsteps remained.

The prince was out of breath.

So he clenched the communicator: "How can I find it?"

Sells yawned: "It's late baby."

Naren: "..."

Sells: "It's time to say goodnight."

The prince expressed his disappointment at being so unreliable at a critical moment.

Sells: "Or a goodnight kiss to cheer you up?"

Naren: "..."

He pressed the hang up button, and once again understood a truth: the only person in this world who can be trusted is himself.

If there is any question that you don't know, check it online first.

- More sensitive to smells.

Nalen thought about the query results for a moment, took out the perfume from his arms, and sprayed it around.

For a moment, he felt suffocated.

When he was about to unscrew the cap of the bottle and pour out all the liquid inside, a small bag suddenly popped up on the ground and moved outward quickly.

Naren narrowed his eyes—found you.

Lift your foot and step on it.

"Squeak—" The lamella on the sole of the shoe made a sharp sound.

[I dumped it, it's very simple.]

After that, there were no more strange footsteps behind him.

The prince, who struggled until midnight, woke up the next day with two huge dark circles under his eyes.

When the attendant asked him if he needed to wash up, his still-awake head was dazed, and it took him a long time to realize that his vacation was over.

The preparations for the Hunting Festival are not difficult. As an ancient festival that has been passed down for thousands of years, there is a special department responsible for the specific process. All Nalen has to do is to show his face there and supervise the progress. He is needed occasionally when problems arise. make a decision.

— Actually, it doesn’t matter if you don’t go.

Nalen stared blankly, feeling frustrated all over his body.

"The list of hunting games has been released, and these are those who are willing to participate. At present, the number of people is a bit small, and it is about this number in previous years." The speaker was Marshall, who was in charge of registration for hunting games. He gestured and continued. : "Other people will sign up one after another, and some people will quit halfway. The final version will be determined after ten days."

Nalen nodded, took the list from Marshall, and saw a long list of familiar and unfamiliar noble surnames.

Marshall took out another pile of documents.

"This is the list of personnel maintaining the order of the venue, which was given by the marshal today."

Marshall turned around and unloaded the cardboard box.

Naren: "..." What is this again

Marshall smiled: "Oh, this is my personal item."

Naren breathed a sigh of relief.

Marshall moved the cardboard box and walked out, saying: "These materials are all in electronic form, and I will send them to you later."

Nalen nestled in the chair, looked at the list, and found that the most loyal participant, Elida, was not on the list. Thinking that his friends had been talking about this some time ago, Naren moved his fingers and sent a message.

[Don't forget the hunting festival competition.]

Just when I was about to press the lock screen, I heard a notification sound.

[I will remind him.]

Naren: "..."

Since the final payment was settled with Xi Jin that night, everything has become calm, and even Sells disappeared for a long time.

One day, he seemed to inadvertently asked His Majesty the Emperor, and was told that there was a new development about the scepter, and Seers went to deal with it.

A few days passed by.

The hunting festival is just around the corner, and the imperial capital is filled with a warm atmosphere of the upcoming festival. The major shopping malls and shops are all dressed up, and you can hear the melodious melody floating on the street.

Nalen's heart was gradually soothed by the festive atmosphere. Too much time has passed since that incident, and Sells' search for someone has stopped, and Higgin seems to have disappeared completely—everything seems to be on the right track.

This night, Naren's personal terminal and communicator rang at the same time.

[Nalen, I will participate in this year's festival competition.]

[Baby, I'm back.]

He was silent for a while, and then flipped through the records, thinking since when did Sels call the baby so smooth

The communicator rang, and a new message popped up.

[Still in the imperial capital?]

Naren threw away the terminal, concentrated on picking up the communicator, and replied with an expression as usual.

[Smile.jpg You left your communication number just to chat?]

[yes.]

[…]

[Let's meet up.]

Nalen shook his hand, not understanding why Sells suddenly made such a request.

[I prepared a gift for you. Figure.jpg]

Click to open it, and the picture shows beards with different shapes. Red mustaches, small brown curly mustaches... and even long beards turned into braids.

Naren: "..."

Do you misunderstand me

[Like it?]

Naren had no choice but to reply out of conscience.

[good.]

[Tomorrow at 13:00, 4843 Longton Street, waiting for you.]

[I won't go.]

[It's okay, then I'll treat it as a cup of afternoon tea.]

Nalen threw the communicator, feeling that this colleague has become more and more confusing recently.

He thought for a while, picked up the terminal again, and replied as a prince.

[What a coincidence, I will also participate.]

The marshal behind the terminal remained silent for a long time—because another communicator next to Naren's bed was beeping a reminder every three seconds.

After the communicator slowly returned to calm, the terminal spit out a message.

[oh.]

For a while, Nalen was in a complicated mood.

After a short period of calm, the communicator rang happily again, making the terminal in Naren's hand particularly lonely.

He tapped and tapped on the terminal.

[The weather is fine tomorrow, let's go out for a drink?]

Facing the bombardment of news like a windstorm, not only kept smiling, but also offered an invitation. He was almost moved by himself. As for which machine you used to reply...does it matter

The sound of the communicator stopped abruptly.

After a long time, the terminal beeped.

[good.]

"..." Nalen stared at the word and fell into a tangle.

He was still inviting me one second, and he agreed to another invitation from me the next second...

How about a firm stand on being a human being

Nalen was very disappointed in Sells.

He regrets it.

In fact, he didn't want to waste a good tomorrow drinking with Sayers.

He rushed to the bed, picked up the communicator, and found that there were more than a dozen unread messages on it. Nine of them are detailed pictures of beards, which seem to be quite well-made. He swiped quickly and his eyes fell on the last message.

[It’s just a meeting, nothing unpleasant will happen to you.]

Naren rolled around, frowning at the line of words.

In the imperial capital, in the garage of Monte's house, the marshal who had just rushed back from the outside was leaning on the car body, looking down at the information.

In a sense, Lan Chong's non-reply meant rejection.

Sells sighed, and felt that the possibility of the other party agreeing was extremely low. He propped his forehead and thought for a while, finally decided to agree to Naryn's invitation, and edited the message to a certain lying worm.

[Since you have concerns, then I will not force others, between you and me, we will always meet again.]

His finger rested on the send button, and just as he was about to send it, the notification sound suddenly sounded.

[oh.]

Sells' fingertips barely stayed on the top of the screen. When he saw the message clearly, he withdrew his hand abruptly, realizing that the other party had actually agreed.

Very unexpected result.

The corner of his mouth curved slightly, and he quickly deleted the words that he hadn't had time to send out.

[See you soon.]

Then he retreated to the contact interface, called up the column of Prince Xavier, and poked his finger lightly.

[Sorry, I have something to do temporarily, we will meet again another day.]

In the room, Nalen blinked his gray-green eyes, looked at the communicator in his left hand, and then at the terminal in his right hand...and found that he seemed to be out of play.

Wouldn't you really want to meet Sells as Donivar

He quickly rushed to the communicator [I lied to you.]

He rushed to the terminal again [Is this the way the Monte family works? Less than three minutes between promise and retort?]

After posting, the whole person stood by, looking very well-behaved.

Sayers' reply came quickly—via the communicator.

[I take it seriously.]

Naren was upset why a suspicious person was repeatedly prioritized before the dignified prince. Sells really has a grudge against him! He has never been so deeply aware of Sells' disregard for himself as he is today.

So he vented his grievance at not being able to receive a reply at the terminal multiple times.

[Then you just wait, maybe I will go over to have a look on a whim. smile.jpg]