Conan: Start with three choices, but sequence potion

Chapter 111: Poor Writer

"Uh-huh."

What broke the silence was Xiao Ai's soft humming.

Miyano Shiho opened the can of freeze-dried food, poured some snacks into it, and then added some food to Amon's trough.

"Why didn't I know you were so hospitable before?"

"I don't want to either. I've always just wanted to be a parasite that eats and waits for death." An He slumped on the sofa with a look of decadence, "But some things will come to you if you don't look for them."

If he doesn't scare Bourbon today, he might find a new model of eavesdropping device in his house someday.

If sensitive people like mystics and undercover agents are not made to feel wary, troubles will come one after another.

An He can clear up these troubles time and time again, or even go to extremes and get rid of all these people directly.

But the winery is so big, it's impossible for him to overturn the entire winery? Moreover, not all the people in the winery are vicious and evil, most of them are undercover or people who are coerced like Miyano Shiho.

Not to mention that apart from the winery, there are many other troubles in this world. The nearest ones include the zoo led by Kuroba Kaito, the FBI that is about to build a nest in Beihua, the CIA led by Mizunashi Rena, and the Public Security Bureau led by Amuro Toru; further away are the MI6 to which Reimei belongs, and those mysterious old politicians in Japan.

After all, he is not a crazy antisocial person, so he can't and doesn't want to kill all these people.

After all, he is an "acquaintance" whom I have seen since childhood, and it is not good to fight and kill him.

An He glanced at Miyano Shiho and couldn't help but sigh, which made her feel confused.

Who asked him to get entangled with this woman who was deeply involved?
The core struggles and ambitions in this world all originate from the "APTX" series of drugs that the Miyano family has devoted their efforts to research.

It looks like we need to do something big to divert everyone's attention away from this medicine.
What's the point of being stared at every day? He still wants to enjoy his precious daily life.

"What should we do tonight?" Miyano Shiho sat next to him, looking unkindly, "I don't want to hear words like delivery from you again."

So An He fell into another dilemma.

Thinking about what to eat for three meals a day is indeed the ultimate question in life.

After a long while, he made a decision. He patted the armrest of the sofa and said solemnly, "Okay, let's eat below."

“Rabun will take a long time, right?”

Miyano Shiho was a little hungry and couldn't wait too long.

"We have dried noodles at home." An He smiled mysteriously, "This is the first dish that almost all international students learn to cook."

With the help of Lao Gan Ma and some leftover vegetables, An He cooked the most classic plain noodles, which provided a meal for the two of them.

It has to be said that food is the thing that can bring back memories the most. An He couldn't help but think back to the days when he was in the East District of Backlund, relying on the vegetable roots he picked up and the porridge made from the edges of black bread to barely survive.

Of course, times have changed. No matter how bland the plain noodles are, they are still much better than the black bread soup mixed with small stones and gravel. Moreover, with the master-level seasoning of Anhe, they are still quite flavorful even without the base of broth.

After finishing the noodles, Anhe collected the two bowls and washed them. Miyano Shiho stood behind him holding Ai.

"Pack two sets of clothes tonight. We will leave at 4 pm tomorrow. The Hokutosei train will arrive in Hokkaido the next morning, so we need to be prepared to spend the night on the train."

"Okay, got it."

"Remember to bring thicker clothes. Winter is coming the day after tomorrow. Hokkaido is not like Tokyo. Don't blame me for not reminding you."

"Then I'll bring a down jacket." An He has gradually become accustomed to the time in this world.

After all, in just this short month, we had three winters and two summers.

That night, An He packed his suitcase and sank into the island of his mind.

"Where's my wine?" The spectator An He was the first to come forward. He waited and waited, but there was no sign of the sacrificial passage being opened, so he looked unhappy.

The thief An He was puzzled: "What kind of wine?"

"." Audience member An He's face was filled with resentment, "I really shouldn't have believed that the thieves' channels would have any credibility."

"I'm just kidding." The thief An He suddenly laughed, "I'm just kidding you."

"Here."

He took out three bottles of wine from behind him that he had brought down from reality.

Audience member An He took it and looked at it, then remained silent.

"When you say 'return', you mean return the three bottles I drank."

"Aren't you afraid of being scared, Amuro Toru?" The thief An He didn't feel embarrassed at all. He just thought that his debt had been cleared and walked behind the fortune teller An He to take a look.

"No, you haven't finished this one yet?"

"One of the robots is pursuing technological victory, and its progress is not slow." An He, a spectator, came over and explained the situation on the field. "In order to avoid being robbed, he gave up the plan to invade several weak countries around him and fought them across the sea. As a result, the other robots have now developed."

". This kind of cure would make me drool." The thief An He was speechless, "He is simply a born fool."

The fortune teller An He was sitting in front of the screen, his face flushed visibly.

"Fuck! I don't want to play anymore!"

Watching the nuclear bombs falling on his own capital from all directions, he punched through the screen. The host, which was originally a material product, turned into wisps of mist and returned to the embrace of the sea of fog.

"Calm down." The thief An He grabbed a piece of gray mist and smeared it on his face. "It's just a game."

The omnipotent mist seemed unable to suppress the red temperature of the fortune teller An He.

"What should we do?" The thief An He looked at the audience An He, "Given his current state, it looks like you'll have to rely on my knockoff version of the illusion to trick Mr. A."

However, audience member An He shook his head.

"No, there's no need to send a dream to Conan recently."

"What new ideas do you have?" The thief An He looked at him suspiciously.

As for this guy who is clearly a Sequence 1 and is called "Writer" but rarely does anything big, the thief An He does not trust his ability to do anything big.

"I will be on the line for the rest of the time, you can take your time to read it." Audience member An He said in a rather mysterious tone, "Each foreshadowing is carefully marked, but readers will laugh at it."

"The audience's Sequence 7 should be called a psychiatrist." The thief An He complained, "I think I remember it correctly?"

"It's almost time for me to advance to Sequence 6."

Audience member An He just smiled.

"It's a pity that Ince Zangwill is not here, and 0-08 didn't come through with us."

He clenched his fist in the air, and the gray-white mist moved as he wished, slowly condensing into a white feather pen in his hand.

"Or I'll tell them."

"A writer who can only rely on extraordinary abilities to forcibly 'correct' a reasonable plot is a lousy writer."

(End of this chapter)