An American knife seller? No, please acknowledge me as your godfather.

When Lynn walked out of Katie's room looking refreshed.

More than half an hour has passed.

The restaurant on the first floor.

Mrs. Hill had already tidied the table and was now mopping up the water stains on the floor.

Because of bending over and dragging the dress on the floor, the already loose and almost unrestricted floral dress couldn't resist gravity at all.

As the body moves back and forth with the force of the arms and torso, the thrilling rise and fall and the throbbing sensation are very obvious.

It seemed as if it might leap completely out of her collar at any moment.

Lynn stood at the top of the stairs, looking down at the stairs with a critical gaze for a few moments, before finally licking her slightly dry lips.

To be honest, I'm a little thirsty and want some milk.

Scientific analysis shows that milk has an extremely high protein content.

In just that short time upstairs, he lost a significant amount of extremely valuable protein.

Right now, I desperately need some high-quality milk to replenish my energy.

Recalling Katie's reckless biting madness in the room just now, Lynn's lower abdomen reflexively contracted.

A flicker of lingering fear flashed uncontrollably in his eyes.

Damn it, I should try not to mess with this girl in the future.

Especially when the other party has a firm grip on your weaknesses.

That brat is extremely vengeful; that last blow was practically using him as a teeth grinding tool!

"Lin!"

Hearing footsteps coming from the stairwell, Mrs. Hill finally straightened up and noticed Lynn.

The moment Mrs. Hill saw Lynn, her face was filled with doubt, and her beautiful eyes sparkled with inquiry:

"How's it going? Is the computer fixed? And... why did I think I heard piano music coming from upstairs?"

As she spoke, a hint of suspicion flashed across Mrs. Hill's face.

It's no wonder she was overthinking it; wasn't the computer repair taking a bit too long?

"It's fixed." Lynn said without blushing or panting, his voice completely normal.

"That computer is quite old, and the software can't be hardened. It requires extremely special and in-depth processing, which Katie simply can't do by herself."

"Fortunately, with my close cooperation, the problem has finally been resolved."

After a pause, Lynn put his hands in his pockets and continued speaking as he walked down the stairs:

"As for the piano... I just happened to see a Steinway in the corner of the room, and I was thinking that, in psychology, classical music can be extremely effective in regulating the restless moods of adolescence."

"So I had Katie try playing a few songs to let off some steam, and to my surprise, she played them quite well."

Before Mrs. Hill could ask for details, Lynn smoothly changed the subject and praised her:

"She truly is your daughter. Not only did she inherit your beauty, but she also has such artistic talent. She's incredibly outstanding. I'm sure there are many boys lining up to pursue her at school!"

Hearing this flattery, Mrs. Hill's attention was indeed instantly diverted.

She reached up and tucked a strand of her golden hair behind her ear, a proud and smug smile immediately spreading across her face:

"Of course! Look who gave birth to her! Katie has been beautiful since she was little. When she was in elementary school, little boys would secretly slip love letters and flowers into her desk every day."

As she spoke, Mrs. Hill sighed, a hint of emotion flashing in her eyes: "Time flies so fast. In the blink of an eye, she's grown into a young lady. I wonder which lucky boy will be lucky enough to marry her in the future."

Hearing this, Lynn raised an eyebrow, and a meaningful smile crept onto his lips.

Haha, it's so close yet so far!

As luck would have it, his nickname was Lucky Boy.

Mrs. Hill paused, glanced up at the vintage clock on the wall, and then looked furtively at the closed door on the second floor.

Then, there was a loud cracking sound.

Mrs. Hill threw down the mop in her hand, stepped forward quickly in her high heels, and grabbed Lynn's neck tightly.

She tiptoed and suddenly leaned forward, gently licking Lynn's earlobe, her breath sweet as orchids:

"It's getting late... The tidying up downstairs is finished, shall we hurry to the bedroom to rest?"

"Oh?"

Sensing Mrs. Hill's initiative, Lynn unceremoniously reached out and grabbed Mrs. Hill's ample lower back.

With a sudden, forceful pull, he held her tightly in his arms.

Looking down at the other person's flushed face, he said with a mocking expression, "Why are you in such a hurry? I'm still covered in sweat and haven't showered yet."

"No need to wash..." Mrs. Hill's eyes were hazy, her fingers tracing restlessly across Lynn's firm chest. "I just love this dangerous scent you have..."

As she said this, her hand slowly moved down Lynn's chest.

The next moment, Lynn suddenly froze and gasped.

A sense of panic, as if fate had seized a hold on me, washed over me!

As a seasoned driver, Lynn was not to be outdone, and her right hand immediately swiftly explored downwards like a swimming dragon.

After accurately touching that extremely tight T-shaped thin thread through the thin floral dress.

He suddenly pinched it between two fingers, and then pulled it up sharply without any mercy!

"hiss--"

Mrs. Hill's pupils constricted, and she immediately raised the white flag to surrender, her whole body going limp in Lynn's arms.

Only then did Lynn lean close to her ear and say domineeringly, "What I mean is, it's not me washing, it's you washing!"

The smell on white people is unbearable if you don't wash them properly.

Even though Mrs. Hill had been marinated in perfume, she still had a scent.

Upon hearing this, Mrs. Hill bit her red lips, giving him a reproachful yet charming glare: "I've already washed myself many times this morning and afternoon..."

"Hehe, is that so?"

Lynn smiled but didn't say anything.

He withdrew his right hand, which had been reaching down, and his fingertips mischievously dabbed at Mrs. Hill's red lips.

Instantly, Mrs. Hill's already rosy lips became even more lustrous.

Seeing this, Mrs. Hill immediately understood what he meant, and her face turned so red it looked like it was about to bleed.

She covered her face, stomped her foot hard, turned around, and walked impatiently towards the bathroom with an exaggerated twist of her waist.

……

While Mrs. Hill was washing up, Lynn was already comfortably lying on the soft bed in the master bedroom.

With my hands behind my head, I drifted into a brief state of blankness, unwilling to think about anything.

At this moment, he saw himself as a wild beast driven by the most primal instincts, quietly waiting for his prey to come to him.

"Squeak."

It didn't take more than a few minutes, no more than five minutes in total.

The room door was immediately pushed open.

Instantly, a rich fragrance of shower gel filled the air.

Mrs. Hill, wrapped in a pure white bathrobe, followed closely behind into the room.

The bathrobe was clearly not tied tightly on purpose, revealing half of her shoulders, and the hem of the bathrobe was slit all the way up to her thighs.

As she moved, her fair and plump legs were faintly visible, arousing all sorts of fantasies.

Lynn's gaze was instantly drawn to it.

A slight stiffening of the gaze is a sign of utmost respect.

"Does it look good?" Mrs. Hill walked to the bedside, deliberately twirled around like a model, and looked at Lynn with seductive eyes.

"It looks good." Lynn grinned.

How good-looking is it?

"Heh, that sends chills down my spine!"

Lynn's smile instantly turned somewhat wicked, even carrying a chillingly aggressive quality.

Mrs. Hill paused for a moment, clearly not understanding what the word meant.

Lynn didn't explain, but just patted the edge of the bed: "Get closer, I'm nearsighted, I can't see clearly."

Mrs. Hill obediently took two steps forward, almost touching Lynn's knees.

"I still can't see clearly." Lynn shook his head.

Mrs. Hill bit her lower lip, then slowly lifted the hem of her bathrobe with both hands.

"I still can't see clearly!" Lynn's gaze was intense.

Mrs. Hill blushed, then gritted her teeth and ripped open the collar of her bathrobe.

Feeling the cool breeze coming through, she straightened up and said coquettishly, "Then... how about this!"

"Gulp!"

Looking at the visually striking scene before him, Lynn couldn't help but swallow.

As I muttered to myself, a classic line suddenly popped into my mind.

"Old Mo, I want to eat fish!"

Mrs. Hill felt extremely satisfied and proud of Lynn's murderous gaze.

She slowly leaned closer to Lynn and looked at her for a few seconds, then suddenly blinked and said softly, "Darling, are your lips a little dry?"

"Lips?" Lynn was taken aback and subconsciously reached out to touch her lips.

That's when I realized I'd eaten too much roasted chicken leg and hadn't drunk any water, so my lips were indeed chapped.

"Then let me apply some lip balm to moisturize your lips."

Mrs. Hill smiled charmingly.

"Sure, go ahead and apply it." Lynn didn't pay any attention, taking it as Mrs. Seele's way of trying to please her.

Upon hearing this, Mrs. Hill's lips curled into a meaningful smile, and she was about to step forward.

"etc!"

Lynn's eyes suddenly widened, her face filled with disbelief: "You're just putting on lipstick, why are you taking your pants off?!"

However, he didn't even have time to react further.

The next moment, Lynn was completely stunned by the overwhelming scene before him, and his vision was instantly plunged into darkness.

Gudong~

My Adam's apple bobbed, and four words flashed through my mind in an instant.

Zhejiang University is incomparable!

……

Inside the disarray of the KK Clinic in Seattle's South Side.

Just as Lynn was comfortably lying in bed enjoying a free facial spa.

Mark, a member of the Blood Wolf Gang, was sitting alone on the sofa in the lobby, a half-burnt cigar between his fingers, staring blankly at the triage desk that had been smashed to pieces.

His eyes were filled with deep remembrance and longing for his deceased brother, Martin.

In the dim light, his vision gradually became blurred.

In a daze, he seemed to see his younger brother again, the one who used to be busy working at the triage desk in a white coat.

But soon, this warm illusion was shattered by a strange, tingling sensation coming from below.

Instantly, Mark shuddered violently several times, tilted his head back, and let out a long sigh of relief.

A moment later, he suddenly opened his eyes.

The nostalgic look in his eyes was instantly replaced by a violent and ruthless one!

He suddenly sat up and grabbed the hair of the Latina woman with short purple hair beneath him.

He raised his hand and delivered two extremely loud slaps!

"Damn it! Your husband just died, his body is barely cold! And you actually did something so disgusting in the clinic where he used to work! You shameless bitch!"

Mark cursed viciously as he hit him, his anger evident in his words.

The purple-haired Latina woman, whose mouth was bleeding from the beating, was stunned.

Her Adam's apple bobbed as she swallowed hard, then she covered her face, looking very aggrieved, and muttered in a low voice, "But... this isn't what you just asked for..."

"Shut up! That was before!" Mark glared with bloodshot eyes and raised his hand to hit him again.

"Wait!" At this critical moment, the Latina woman suddenly screamed, "Don't hit me! I'm pregnant!"

"What?!"

Mark's hand froze in mid-air.

After a few seconds of pause, he suddenly stood up, squinted, and demanded, enunciating each word clearly, "Whose is it?"

The Latina woman laughed, a smile tinged with sadness and mockery, and asked in return:

"What do you think? Your brother, my nominal husband... hasn't touched me for a whole year!"

Upon hearing this, Mark's expression instantly turned extremely gloomy.

His facial muscles twitched violently, and the veins on his forehead bulged out inch by inch.

Clearly, this news left him somewhat unsettled.

After a moment of deathly silence.

Mark took a deep breath and quickly made a decision: "Since it's my child, then let it be born!"

The woman wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth and asked with a cold smile:

"After you're born, what will they call you? Dad? Or... Uncle?"

The woman's words pierced Martin's heart like steel needles.

After a long silence, Mark closed his eyes, gritted his teeth, and uttered a few words: "Call me Uncle! From now on... consider me his godfather!"

"Hahahaha! The Godfather! Hahahaha!"

Upon hearing this, the woman let out an extremely grating, mocking laugh.

"What are you laughing at? You're asking for it!" Mark roared, about to strike again.

buzzing-

At that moment, my phone in my pocket suddenly vibrated violently.

Mark took out his phone, and his eyes narrowed instantly when he saw the caller ID on the screen.

The caller was the tall, dreadlocked man he had previously sent out to investigate.

Mark answered the phone, his voice cold as he uttered a single word: "Speak."

"Big brother!"

The dreaded yet excited voice of the man with the dreadlocks immediately came from the other end of the phone:

"Brother! I've checked! That illegal medical tent in the homeless park on South King Street is still operating normally tonight! The police didn't shut it down at all!"

"What?!"

Upon hearing this news, Mark's pupils contracted sharply.

His fingers, holding the cigar, clenched tightly, and goosebumps rose all over his body.

It was as if a bolt of lightning pierced through the fog in my mind.

All the clues became completely and clearly connected in that instant.

Victor, the younger brother, clearly sent someone to report that homeless quack doctor.

As a result, the quack doctor who was reported went unscathed, while the brother of the person who reported him was killed in a tragic accident!

This left him no choice but to think it over!

In the dog-eat-dog world of America, she simply couldn't believe such a coincidence could happen!

"Boss? Boss, are you still listening?" The man with the dreadlocks was still shouting loudly on the other end of the phone.

call!Suck!

Mark took a few deep breaths and slammed the half-smoked cigar he was holding onto the armrest of the sofa.

At the same time, a sound like sandpaper scraping was squeezed out of his throat:

"Listen! From now on, you don't need to do anything, and don't alert them. Take your men and keep a close watch on the quack doctor in that tent!"