Miss Planeswalker, are you free for romance?

"The nuns would beat me."

"Then let them beat you. I've been wanting to ask myself for a long time whether I'm not strict enough with you..." Scratching his chest hair and crotch, Mr. Lando muttered and turned into the bedroom.

He had to take a break to replenish the protein he had consumed in the past five minutes before his daughter brought back lunch.

Matilda clenched her fists and went to the door to put on her shoes, when she suddenly felt a gust of wind behind her head.

Bang-!

A fist.

Hit on the nose.

She covered her face and bumped into the door handle, hurting her waist. Her sister was wearing gym clothes and looking down at her.

"Complaining again, huh? Should I teach you a lesson?" The woman puffed out her chest and stood in front of Matilda arrogantly like a white swan hatched from a garbage dump: "Little slave, I know things that Dad doesn't know."

"You skipped class, didn't you?"

She twirled her long hair sarcastically and wiped her face with her sweaty hands. She was amused when she saw her sister's bleeding nose.

"Did they beat you as hard as I did?"

Matilda opened the door madly and ran out of the house.

"I want milk! Otherwise watch your nose!"

Behind me, my sister shouted instructions.

In this family, only my younger brother is a normal person.

Thinking of the timid yet kind child, Matilda rubbed her nose with a smile, wiped the blood on her coat, and skipped downstairs.

Passing by Stanfield.

She glanced at the man in the beige suit, and the man in the beige suit glanced at her. The men behind her filed in.

Click.

The gun is loaded.

"Lando."

Stanfield knocked on the door politely, stretched his limbs, and took a deep breath with a smile: "I like the moment of calm before the storm... It reminds me of Beethoven..."

"Did you hear that?" He walked and waved his hands as if to command someone, not knowing who he was talking to. "It's like lying in the grass..." He covered his ears: "You can hear the grass growing... and the crawling of insects..."

“Do you like Beethoven?”

He asked his men.

Several gunmen took a half step back, unable to explain, and answered cautiously: "It...it doesn't count."

Stanfield grabbed the gun and excitedly pointed it at the broken door of the Landra's house: "Me! I'll play for you--"

Bang-!

The aged door handle exploded along with the entire piece of wood!

"Da da——" The man walked into the house with a gun in hand, shaking his head.

"dad--"

Bang——! !

The woman who had just finished doing aerobics was shot in the abdomen and fell backwards.

"We need a little gradual overture..."

Click.

After loading the gun for the second time, Stanfield pushed open the side door and saw only a yellow bathtub in the bathroom.

The woman is hugging the foam, wearing headphones, and closing her eyes to enjoy it.

Bang-!

"Spot on the bull's-eye!"

Stanfield closed the door politely and went to the main house with his men.

Mr. Landau's fat face was behind the curtains, leaning against the fireplace, his face full of despair.

"We agreed to have it at noon."

He walked over step by step, turned his wrist, and showed the dial to Lando: "One minute has passed." The man smacked his lips twice and pointed at Lando with a little dissatisfaction: "Tsk, if you don't like Beethoven, you've missed a lot. The overture can make people's blood boil... It is so sonorous and powerful..."

"But after the prelude, seriously..."

"It's a bit boring."

Stanfield's facial features were squeezed together and he shouted excitedly: "So I stopped!" After laughing a few times, the man suddenly became indifferent again, his whole face expressionless, and he spoke to his subordinates without turning his head.

"Search this room."

The men, guns in hand, messed up the already untidy shabby house.

Stanfield shook his neck and one side of his face trembled nervously: "It seems that you like Mozart? Oh... I like him too." After saying that, he opened his arms excitedly and faced the window.

“I love Mozart!!”

"You know, he's Austrian. He's not that good at this..." His five fingers twisted in disorder, as if he was playing a non-existent piano. "I prefer to listen to more shocking music..."

"Listen to Brahms, he's pretty good too."

He walked out in a beige suit, looking drunk.

Lando leaned against the fireplace, tapped with his fat hands, and opened the secret compartment. In the compartment blocked by his body, there was a long-barreled shotgun.

Chapter 18 The strange resident next door

Bang—bang.

Two shots with a long interval between them.

One shot broke the table, and another shot hit the TV screen. Mr. Lando leaned against the wall, panting, and looked sideways at the corridor.

No one is empty.

He took a tentative step forward with the tip of one shoe.

Quiet.

"Stan! I didn't touch your stuff!"

He shouted, but unfortunately no one responded. The barrel of the gun was still hot, and Mr. Lando aimed the gun at the open room on the other side of the corridor. He waited for a few seconds, lowered his body carefully, and stepped out of the door.

The muzzle of the gun kept moving in the sight, and the trembling palms transmitted the shaking to the metal barrel.

"Stan? Let's talk about..."

Lando held the gun high and pushed open the nearest door with the barrel.

no one.

Bang.

Gunshots were fired.

Stanfield shook his shoulders, stood up from the corner, walked angrily towards Lando who was shot in the abdomen, and kicked the shotgun in his hand away.

Then, he lowered the gun and aimed it at the fat body that was still crawling out.

A long line of blood was dragged out.

Bang!

"Fxck! F——"

Bang!

Bang bang bang!

Continuous firing!

Bang!

Until the gun jammed, until his men in leather jackets rushed over and held him down!

"Stan! He's dead! He's dead!"

"I know. He stained my suit."

"But he's dead! Dead! He's just a pile of rotten meat now. Calm down?"

Stanfield looked at his men awkwardly, "Oh. I'm calm..."

“Come out, come out…” The men grabbed his arm and forcibly led him out of the house, and the man was still muttering.

"I shouldn't have worn my new suit..."

Two men lit cigarettes at the door while several gunmen rummaged through the house.

The doors of the neighbors next door were all closed, except for the nearest one - an old woman with big-framed glasses on her wrinkled face, a few pink plastic curlers on her hair, and pajamas.

She pushed the door open when she heard the sound and stared at the two men who were smoking.

"what happens?"

The man in the leather jacket waved his hand: "It's okay, we are police from the Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA), go back to your room--"

"Let this poor family go." The old man interrupted him, his pupils cloudy under the thick glasses: "You are too noisy..."

"Calm down, Stan, calm down!"

The man in the leather jacket watched Stanfield leisurely holding a cigarette, his hands constantly stuffing bullets into the magazine, and he said perfunctorily:

"Calm down, I'm calm. Where's my headphone cord..."

"Why don't you let this family go?" the old man kept chattering.

Bang.

The bullet flew past the old man's pink curly hair and shattered the glass on the door.

Stanfield waved his silver pistol. "He told you to go back inside."

…………

……

Matilda came out of the fast food restaurant holding a paper bag, the blood under her nose had long dried. She crossed the road, held her breath and walked quickly past the garbage dump, and entered the apartment complex from the nearest entrance.

Going up the stairs, the boots paused for a moment, then continued to move forward steadily as usual.

The glass at the door was broken into pieces, and from the entrance of the corridor, I could see that the door of my house was wide open.

The father's fat hand was on the brick surface, and several men with guns were standing guard at the door. When Matilda came up with the paper bag, their eyes naturally focused on her.

Instantly, their eyes met.

The girl looked calm and walked by in her leather boots like a passerby.

She saw the bullet holes all over her father's body, the mess in the house, the blood and the man in the beige suit saying something to his men. She held the paper bag, her heart pounding.

But he still maintained a calm expression.

——Matilda, if you show any flaws, you will die.

she said to herself.

The sound still continued to come into my ears.

'Benny, search the house to find those things for me.'

'Willie, what did you do? You killed a four-year-old boy? No, I mean why did you use a knife?'

Hot and wet tears fell one by one, dropping onto the warm paper bag. The girl gritted her teeth and tried to stay quiet. She could feel several eyes scanning behind her, those bastards were staring at her.

See which door she knocks on.

or…