Thriller Trainee (101 - 259)

228

For someone who appeared uninvited, Zong Jiu chose to ignore it.

He didn't even lift his eyes to take another look. The half-burning cigarette was still between his fingers, and the ashes fell drooping to the dark black table top, scattering a piece of gray-black smoke.

Behind the smoke, the young man's long and narrow eyebrows were dim, dim and dim, not real.

The warm yellow spotlights on the upper part of the bar plated his outline with a cold light, making the shadows on his face deeper and more impersonal.

There is no doubt that Zong Jiu's mood now doesn't look good.

I don't know why, this unprovoked cognition makes the devil a little unhappy.

He has rarely seen such obvious mood swings in a magician.

——Except when the two of them are facing each other. At that time, whether it was Zong Jiu or the devil, the burning intent to fight each other belonged to another person.

Their most real and rarest emotions arise only because of each other.

The devil thought so displeased, of course he did it.

So in the next second, the bartender who was just mixing at the bar was driven away, and the black-haired man occupied the magpie's nest and moved his fingers slightly.

The puppet silk concealed in the shadow spontaneously wrapped around the periphery of the wine bottle and the shaker. On the other side, the tweezers suspended in the air had already prepared ice cubes and lemon salt, ready to be used.

He deliberately put his hand on the magician's hand that was holding the cigarette. The white gloves and pale and slender fingers crossed and touched. He obviously didn't do anything. He just caught the falling soot, with indescribable ambiguity.

"My Excellency, do you need a bartending service?"

The man stared at the other party's light pink eyes, and his dark golden pupils made undisguised teasing: "You are my only guest, so there is no need for an extra price increase for this cup."

"Of course..." He prolonged his voice, grasping the fingertips of the other party and squeezing it suggestively.

"If you want a second drink, it's another price."

Zong Jiu: "..." What should I do, my fist is hard.

His thoughts and thoughts were completely interrupted, and he immediately lost his temper.

The demon whose work is done by the puppet silk and the shadow only needs to be like a conductor of a concert, manipulating the dazzling silver arcs in the air to let them go where they should be.

This bartender shows off his skills again, just like the devil himself, exuding his hormones triumphantly from morning to night, just like a peacock who is always showing off on the screen to show off his own, which is helpless.

"Boom—"

After a high-altitude parabola, the freshly prepared whiskey was pushed over.

The bartender stood in front of the bar and looked at him with a smile.

Zong Jiu glanced at him coldly, without moving.

The devil didn't care either, and instead picked up a strand of white hair of the young man, entwining it around his fingertips and playing with it, quite carelessly.