The storm has happened once. The state of the sky, it seems, is not over, it will happen again

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2 years ago

The storm has happened once. The state of the sky, it seems, is not over, it will happen again.

Shops in Hilltown, a small town in Los Angeles, close at eight o'clock. And now it's eleven o'clock at night. Storm over him. People outside the house are naturally less.

The strip mall here is nothing like that. A laundry, a department store and a video arcade, buss. Nothing more. The store has already closed. The laundry is also closed. Only video arcade is open. Never closes before midnight.

The parking lot is wet and oily. Shining. There is only one car standing today. A classic convertible. The roof is open. As if Vega doesn't care in the rain.

Its owner Leslie Cartris doesn't care about rain either. There is no way. Then the stomach will not move. Even during the storm, he had to supply pizza at home. Annoyed. That's why he came to Arcade to vent his anger on the video game machine.

He thought he was the only customer, no one would bother him. Virtual Massacre-2 is playing. Imagining himself a virtual fighter on the screen, he is kicking the enemy. Although in high school, there is no joy in playing football. But there is no way to go to school to play. He paid the jute two years ago.

Leslie grabbed the joystick like a car gear with the tip of a button. A few months ago, his name was raised in the high score list. The name BPE has been signed by one of the losing players. Satan has locked all the high score lists today. Leslie was trying to get into it by force, but less confidence. There are already two players missing. The third is going to lose

Hey, brother, he called from behind and said a dumb voice, I was playing there.

Leslie looked over her shoulder. A pale-faced boy is standing behind. Baseball cap with oil on head. Ink on the body, T-shirt too.

Went to the bathroom, the boy said.

So what do i do Leslie replied harshly. I feel angry. His. This boy is probably the loser. Age eighteen-nineteen. Look good. Leslie didn't like it at all. His idea is that it has no other job but to chase after Mastani and girls in the neighborhood.

He looked at the screen. It's too late. One of the enemy fighters struck the neck of his virtual fighter with a karate blow. The machine aimed at him with sarcastic remarks and a pitiful mechanical smile. To make it even more annoying, it was as if the game over writing in the bright red light was dripping in front of my eyes.

Annoyed, Leslie slapped the machine. He turned around and looked at Haddisa's boy. All the anger fell on him. Says the game has failed. Roared, if you give!

The boy has hidden a lot of his face in the shadow of the cap. You ruined my game. I was playing there. You entered from the middle.

Why did you go

What do I do when I find a bathroom? You could play on any other machine. Why is that?

How do you know that you were playing?

The game was open. Wasn't it?

Some people leave half playing.

Billy was playing there, another voice said. You ruined his game.

Leslie looked around and saw a fat boy. Long hair Coin bag hanging around the waist. His name is William Glazebrook. But everyone calls for potatoes. The name matches the look. It has become a name to call now. No one calls by real name. When people ask, he himself says this name. Maybe he doesn't like the real long name, he likes the short one.

Who are you again Leslie growled. Her spoon?

No, the night manager, replied Potato.

El Billy moved towards the machine. Move.

Leslie suspects that this skinny boy is the mysterious BPF of the machine. His anger increased. He put his hand on Billy's chest and pushed hard.

Billy fell to his feet at a table. The hat fell off. A strange spot was seen on one side of the head.

Leslie frowned. What stains? Did you have brain surgery? The stain is not exactly like a cut. Rather, it is more similar to burn marks.

Billy crawled away. Leslie felt as if a squirrel was trying to move away quickly for fear of being crushed by the foot pressure. Under the dirty stone. I could not imagine what a terrible insect insect!

Just then the electricity went off.

Potato cried out in the dark, I agreed, did not hear! He called his own defeat! Now no one can stop him.

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