Chapter 123: Carrying a Mission
Light gray shirt, black suit, sitting on the sofa with a calm and relaxed expression, naturally crossing his legs, showing a calm and tough, calm and self-defeating temperament in his movements It always attracts the attention to drift towards it, but it doesn't dare to stay, and immediately moves away in a hurry, for fear of accidentally bumping into those deep black eyes.
Short hair, wide forehead, pointed eyebrows and starry eyes. The originally tough facial lines and the stern and expressionless appearance reveal a majesty from the inside out. A single look can directly lower the temperature in the room. .
Just like this time.
The waiting area is spacious, and there are obviously free seats everywhere, but at this moment, the guests waiting here quietly distanced themselves, crowding in the corner in twos and threes, so that the place was completely empty. In no man's land, even flies have taken a detour.
However, the peripheral vision of his eyes still drifted towards him, and he couldn't hold back his curiosity, secretly observing and secretly guessing. Instead, it became a tacit understanding among the guests, and they made up eight hundred words of gossip in their minds while exchanging glances.
Until someone appeared -
"Hey!"
A slightly nervous voice reminded Anson's footsteps.
The voice secretly glanced at the black charcoal, and immediately became nervous. He swallowed, worried that his reminder might cause misunderstanding, as if the guy would take out a silenced pistol and start killing in the next second. , looked at Anson again, and reminded him cautiously.
"There are seats here too."
It was a woman who looked like she was under thirty. Although she was a little reserved, she still smiled at Anson, gestured to the seat next to her, and gave a subtle reminder. .
Ansen understood and responded with a smile, motioning to the black charcoal, "He is my bodyguard, born with a black face."
Everyone: Oh.
It suddenly dawned on them, and they seemed to have found the correct explanation. One or two of them relaxed slightly, and could clearly feel that the temperature was getting slightly warmer.
Anson thanked him again with a smile, then took a seat next to the black charcoal and placed the cheeseburger on the table in front of him.
Black Charcoal has long noticed the movement around him, but his eyes never left the newspaper in his hand. He complained in a cold and stiff voice, "Who would pair whiskey with a hamburger?"
Next to the cheeseburger, there was a glass of whiskey without ice.
The sound without temperature or fluctuation once again attracted the attention of the surrounding people.
Anson seemed particularly calm, "I started drinking before six o'clock in the afternoon. It seems that someone has been under a lot of pressure recently. Isn't he already drinking?"
A flash of helplessness flashed in Hei Charcoal's slender eyes. He looked at Anson who was not joking seriously, but he did not refute. He just warned, "Don't tell mom."
With that, Hei Charcoal will A packet of plain potato chips next to the whiskey was handed to Anson.
Anson already had a pile of food in his hand, but he still signaled with his eyes. Black Charcoal had to put down the "Wall Street Journal" in his hand, help open the potato chips, and then put the potato chips away. To Anson's hand.
Anson was not in a hurry. He took out some potato chips and put them in the tissue paper. He stuffed two potato chips into his mouth, skillfully kneaded the tissue paper into a ball, crushed them all, and then put the potato chips into a ball. After sprinkling the crumbs on the hot dog, he stuffed the hot dog into his mouth contentedly, with a look of happiness between his brows.
“Ah, as expected, the afternoon tea snack is hot dogs and potato chips.”
This was the original owner's favorite, and Anson couldn't imagine such a food combination, but after trying it once, he unexpectedly fell in love with this weird combination.
Black Charcoal raised the corners of his mouth invisibly, "It's just that you like this weird combination of flavors. Don't let it slip in front of your mother. If she knows that I ordered these for you, then she will return the favor." There are beef patties, I guess I’ll be nagging again.”
——Lucas-Wood, Anson’s brother, is a full six years older than Anson. Because of the large age gap, back then. When Anson was born, Lucas was full of expectations and excited, hoping wholeheartedly to have a younger brother/sister to accompany him. Finally, when he finally got it, the little guy was overjoyed.
In the memory of the original owner, there is a photo in which Lucas's thin body is holding the infant Anson, showing a bright smile to the camera, and vowing, "I will take good care of my brother."
Of course, Lucas did not break his promise.
Anson glanced at Lucas calmly, "You know this means that all my fitness results this week are ruined because of this combination, right?"
Lucas looked calm, " How come I didn’t know you were still exercising?”
Anson:… “Breathing. Don’t you know that breathing is the biggest calorie-consuming exercise?”
Lucas blinked and hesitated to speak, but in the end he nodded silently with a "Okay" expression on his face.
The corners of Anson's mouth slightly raised, and he was very satisfied with this response. As for Lucas's expression, he simply ignored it, "Whose idea was it for the dining car outside?"
Although the dining car did not leave a signature, Anson You can tell it's Lucas' handiwork right away.
After all, from selecting the menu to contacting the resort and the city hall for permission to contacting "GQ" to ask for behind-the-scenes photos to print and make humanoid cards, this series of tedious and complicated actions is small and small while supporting Anson. After a little prank, it was just Lucas.
Lucas did not answer, "Do you like it?"
"Haha." Anson laughed, "It's very trendy."
There was some helplessness between Lucas' brows, "I'm only twenty-four, not thirty-four."
When he turned twenty, Anson kept talking about him being an old guy. Such ridicule even spread in the family, so much so that some relatives also followed Anson in calling him his nickname-
"Old Luca".
Lucas had a headache, but his expression didn’t show. He looked at Anson who was chewing heavily, and then followed Anson’s words and began to laugh at himself, “Yes, I asked some children in the company who were born after 1990. , got some inspiration.”
Post-90s?
That is a baby under ten years old.
You are joking, but your face is expressionless. No matter how funny the joke is, it has turned into an academic study. It is estimated that a ten-year-old baby may be frightened to tears.
You can tell by looking around you out of the corner of your eye: trembling and unable to laugh.
Anson smiled broadly, "Are you sure? I think the kids would have peed their pants before they saw you."
Lucas noticed Anson looking around, and he gave him a cold look. Sweeping, he said in a deep voice, "I was joking just now, couldn't you hear it?"
The air was silent, as if a crow was flying slowly from above.
"I was kidding." Lucas repeated.
Heh.
Laugh dryly.
Haha.
Awkward.
The innocent people around them laughed dryly, but the panic in their eyes could not be concealed. After Lucas looked away, he could see others quietly talking one by one. Leaving back.
Lucas ignored it and turned to look at Anson, his face indifferent.
Pop!
A customer was so anxious and panicked that he almost fell down because his soles were in the air. He used his hands and feet to control his balance and avoid embarrassment, but he didn't know whether it was because of fear or embarrassment. He hurriedly didn't look back. get away.
puff.
Anson didn't give any face and laughed directly, "This is a good joke."
Fourth update.
(End of this chapter)