Chapter 1802: Fanwai: Rainy Night

Dark, exotic streets, because of rainy nights, except for occasionally fast vehicles on empty streets, there are only dazzling yellow street lights .
The crackling rain flushed the empty asphalt road.
Suddenly stumbled from a shop and rushed out a young man.
It can be seen from the face that the man is an Asian, and in this white country, he obviously lives very hard.
A group of white men with guns chased out. They scolded and fired bullets.
The young man seems to have eyes behind his back. Although he is stingy, he always avoids bullets with little difference.
The chaotic footsteps in the rainy night, coupled with gunshots, were not noticeable at all.
Even if someone pays attention, no one dares to intervene at this time.
This is the age when the Canadian Mafia is flourishing. Mafia guns are more powerful than anything else.
The white people scolded and grinned and couldn't keep their eyes open from the heavy rain.
The young man is like a slippery loach, but it is just the effort to wipe the rain, and it disappears on a rainy night.
A group chased separately.
But when the sound of footsteps drifted away, there was only the sound of a torrential rain washing the ground.
I don't know how long it has been, maybe two or three hours, or five or six hours?
In a dark path, the dirty trash can suddenly moved.
A pair of pale, slender hands crawled around the edge of the trash can, slowly crawling out.
He had dirty lettuce leaves on his head, and the black t-shirt on his body could not have seen the color.
The heavy rain hit his face, like a small stone, but he didn't feel the pain at all.
It wasn't cold, a hot flush appeared on the pale face.
Ling Mo followed his uncle to Canada as a teenager and joined a mafia.
Sitting at the bottom of the cannon fodder, I just wanted to hang out for food, but my hands were contaminated early on.
But he has always been very indifferent, life or something, sooner or later to return.
Now those people died in his hands, and Ling Mo could die when he became a scratched body.
But Ling Mo never thought that there would be a kind of people who are immortal but distorted.
The trial in a different world is a more mysterious organization in the Mafia, but it was committed to the boss of Ling Mo.
The place was smashed, and only Ling Mo escaped alive.
But Ling Mo had avoided those people now, but his head was dizzy, his throat was particularly dry, and he was thirsty.
The sky was not yet bright, and the city under the heavy rain was growing dark and gunfire.
He stumbled back to his place of residence.
Drinking cold water for a stomach.
But my stomach was up, but the hunger didn't go away.
Uncle came, with the boss's reward, it was a thick stack of tickets.
Uncle's smile still hung on his face, and he froze after entering the room.
Ling Mo's eyes in the room were dark and crimson, while the two fangs on that lip were sharply pointed.
Ling Mo licked his lips.
The whole world seemed to be covered with a touch of blood.
He rushed up.
.
Three days later, a Chinese citizen named Ling Mo returned to his homeland.
He was silent and lonely.
Being transformed into a vampire, probably happened in the corner of that clubhouse.
Ling Mo only remembered that he fainted and ran hard when he woke up.
This may be the bad taste of the other world trial, which turned him into a vampire and did not kill him.
But eating his uncle, Ling Mo was better off dead.
But Ling Mo is still alive and has been alive.
It was another rainy day.
The fog was over the city, and Ling Mo lingered among a group of ordinary office workers, quietly searching for the starting target.
When he chased the target and walked to the lane, Ling Mo heard a cry.
A baby doll for a few months was abandoned by her parents on such a rainy night, and was left under the canopy of the desolate bus stop.
Vehicles on the street passed white splashes.
Crying kept going.
This was already good food.
But the ghost was so bad that Ling Mo walked over and set off the baby's hesitation.
The baby cried her fingers and cried without a baby cavity.
But when looking at Ling Mo, the crying sound slowly but gradually reduced, and the last pair of black eyes with tears, looked at Ling Mo like that.
About four or five months.
Ling Mo judged.
He pursed his lips and wanted to go, but after a few steps, he turned back again.
He picked up the baby.
It has been hundreds of years since he was first embraced as a vampire.
But today, Ling Mo always remembers that today, hundreds of years ago, on the same rainy night, he became a vampire and ate his uncle.
And the same time and heavy rain.
Little baby, maybe the redemption that God gave him.