Seven people went to the car rental company to reserve a stretch Lincoln for prom night.
In the following days, I would go to Abby's house every night to practice dancing to dynamic music.
I have tried waltz, tango, and flamenco. I don’t need to learn much in a short time. I just need to remember a few simple routines so that I won’t be stuck in place like a stick at the party. .
At this time, lv3 fighting brought some unexpected joy to Dean. To some extent, both dancing and fighting require physical coordination, flexibility, and endurance...but fighting has more explosive confrontation and strike training, while dancing has more rhythm and rhythm. and beauty.
Dean has a foundation in fighting, and his agility is higher than that of ordinary people. This is his unique talent.
The waltz, which ordinary people can barely get started with in a week or two, Dean danced for two nights, and he already had the basic dance steps and gentle circling.
As a sports enthusiast, Gretchen also dabbled in dance when she was a child. The two of them soon became skillful in dancing in the yard, spinning circles closely to the magic power.
"Ah!" Jenny groaned under the willow tree on the other side. She looked down at her red and swollen instep and glared at her dance partner who was hugging her. "You are clumsy, can't you just imitate Dean?"
"God, I'm a normal person, how can I compare with a monster?" Baker turned his head and looked at him, then he said, "I am also competing with Rust!"
Rust was standing there helplessly, while opposite him Britney was sitting by the flower bed, rubbing the instep of her feet with a look of resentment on her face. She couldn't remember how many times she had been stepped on.
"It's okay if someone steps on your feet." Abby sighed quietly in the corner, opened her hands to embrace the air, and started dancing alone.
…
During the break from dance practice, it was the day Holden left Las Vegas.
369 South Fifth Avenue, Henderson.
A brand new two-story white western-style building rose above the ruins that were once burned by flames.
The owner of the new house, Alvin Garcia, warmly entertained two old friends who had been separated for a long time.
The grill was set up and a few cases of beer and drinks were brought over.
Enjoy a barbecue dinner together surrounded by a circle of bright sunflowers.
"The house is built and a job is found. The next step is to marry a wife?" Dean took a bite of the golden and crispy pork chop and turned to look at Alvin, whom he hadn't seen for a year.
The once decadent and slovenly homeless man on the street wore a plaid shirt and khaki casual pants, with a healthy blush on his face and bright eyes. He looked much younger than before.
"I am today thanks to the help of you two," Alvin glanced at Dean and Holden gratefully, and raised the beer can towards them, "If you have any trouble in the future, just come to me and I will do my best. Give back whatever you can."
Dean raised a Tropicana and clinked a glass with him.
"By the way, I remembered something," Alvin took a sip of his beer. "More than a month ago, a program team came to interview me and asked me to talk in detail about the entire experience of self-healing from cancer after the fire, and then made it into a The program will be broadcast. He also promised to give me a reward of two thousand dollars."
Dean suddenly felt a strong sense of familiarity. Didn't Abby say the same thing, "Is it an East Coast program group that claims to specialize in bizarre folk tales?"
"That's right,"
"Have you told them all?" Dean quietly squeezed the can,
"How come, I promised to keep it a secret for you," Alvin patted his chest, "I didn't say a word about you and the psychic. I just said that I encountered a fire in my sleep."
Dean thought and said,
"Did the program team leave you a business card?"
"Wait a minute," Alvin stood up and entered the room. Two minutes later, he took out a simple white business card without any title or address, only his name and phone number.
Jacqueline Bourgeois
Phone 001-702-XXX
"Local number in Las Vegas." Holden put down the empty beer can and looked at the business card. "Did they specify which program they were responsible for?"
"According to them, the show is still in a confidential stage of planning and has not been disclosed to me."
"How many members do they have and what do they look like?" Dean interjected and asked,
"Three white men, two men holding camera equipment, and a female reporter." Alvin lowered his head and thought, "The two men are about thirty years old, white, tall, with black hair and blond hair, both in height. About six feet, average looking.”
"The lady should be under thirty years old. She is petite, sweet-looking, and has long red hair... Well, that's all I remember."
"They were very professional when handling the equipment. It made me experience the feeling of being on TV for the first time."
Alvin chatted carefully about the program crew, then raised the beer can,
"Dean is about to graduate, and Holden is going back to Virginia. I don't know if I will have a chance to see you again in the future. I can only pray for you, and may God bless you and be healthy forever."
…
"Is there a problem with that group?" After saying goodbye to Alvin, Holden followed Dean and got into the car.
"I just felt something was wrong. They also went to Abby's house for an interview not long ago."
Dean was involved in both cases interviewed by the program team.
"Worried that they will be bad for you?" Holden pondered, "I'll help you find out, and I'll leave in a few days."
This flag was set, and Dean's eyelids jumped and he refused irrefutably.
"You can't postpone it. I will send you home to pack your luggage and fly back to Virginia immediately!"
"Why are you so excited? Well, let's go."
"That's right. How's Bradley in the Bureau doing lately?" Dean wondered if it was the FBI secretly investigating him?
"The murderer was not caught in the Red Dragon Club case after all. He left Las Vegas the day before yesterday."
"Already left?" Dean breathed a sigh of relief, feeling much more relaxed in the car.
Holden looked out the window,
"Man, before I leave, I'd better tell you something from my heart. My biggest achievement during this year in Las Vegas is meeting you. You have a shadow of me when I was young."
"Similarly talented and cynical. I wanted to guide you to grow up slowly, starting as a police officer and gradually joining the FBI. After a few years, you will be recognized by the superiors. Maybe you can form a paranormal investigation department, but you chose another path. road."
"When did you become so sensational?" Dean patted the car horn,
"This is called speaking out of emotion. I won't go on too much. The last sentence is that I hope you will uphold the justice in your heart and not be dominated by money and impulse and become a wanted criminal." Holden took out a small phone with a number on it from his briefcase. The black BP machine was handed over, "Keep in touch in the future. If I accidentally run into trouble, call you. Remember to call me back."
"No problem, I'm asking you for help, so don't leave it alone." Dean smiled and took the bp machine and put it away. Having a friend in the FBI is not a bad thing for him, so he can be regarded as a "chao There is someone in it."
…
Dean watched Hall board the plane at McCarran International Airport. Then he disguised himself as a strange middle-aged blond man in the airport bathroom, found a roadside phone booth and dialed the number on the program crew's business card.
"Ms. Jacqueline, I heard that your program team is collecting clues about folklore. I have explosive news. I wonder if you are interested?"
"Sorry, sir, the lady and the program crew you are looking for were the previous tenants of my house." An old male voice came on the phone, "They moved out a week ago."
"Do you know where they moved?"
"They said at the time that they had collected enough materials for the show and were flying back to Chicago."
"What TV station in Chicago do they work for?" Dean asked again.
"Sorry, not sure."
"It's like this. I'm interested in renting a house recently. Is it convenient for me to visit your place?"
Soon, Dean, who was in a pseudomorphic state, rushed to a house in a mid-range community in North Las Vegas and met the owner of the house, an old man with a strong spirit and a strong body.
Sitting on the sofa opposite the fireplace, Dean gave him a Marlboro and talked about the show.
"They came with a bunch of video equipment and it looked professional and expensive."
"I leave early and come back late, so I don't have much chance to communicate with them."
"But Jacqueline was enthusiastic and lively. She once took the initiative to talk to me about the materials they collected. There were more than thirty materials in total. Not only in Las Vegas, Nevada, they also visited the hometown of the Texas butcher family and the Zombie Road in Missouri. , Sacrifice Cliff, Montana, etc…”
Dean's face softened a little when he heard this, and he handed over a few hundred-dollar bills, "I have explosive news here. As long as it is recorded as a program, it will become famous all over the country. Then you can appear on various TV programs and earn money. If you can Help me contact them and the money belongs to you.”
"I can't make this money. I drove them to the airport personally without leaving any contact information." The old man returned the banknotes, with reluctance written on every vicissitude of his face. "If you want to contact them, you can only contact them in person." Go to Chicago and look for it, or wait until the show airs.”
"That's regretful."
Dean chatted with the old man for two hours, scanning the whole house from a God's perspective, and using the psychological skills taught by Holden to confirm that the other party was not lying, he said goodbye and left.
…
In the next two days, Dean did not relax his vigilance. Every night he hid in the grass, treetops, and neighbor's roofs next to his house, scanning and observing with the magnifying glass of a sniper rifle. At the same time, he turned on the "record" function of God's perspective to review and review. Suspicious signs all around.
Using a public phone booth, I called Marco to confirm Luben's safety.
Before the dance, Dean even blatantly packed a lot of luggage, deliberately ran away, and flew to Los Angeles for a tour.
Then monitor your own residence in disguise.
Even so, he did not encounter any obstruction or find the slightest sign of the stalker.
All was calm.
When the prom day arrived, Dean let go of his worries and drove a white stretched Lincoln, picking up a group of friends one by one and heading to Britney's house, which was closest to the school.
The road was extremely lively today, although there were no lights or festoons.
But along the way, you can see a luxury car like a Ferrari or Lamborghini a few hundred meters away. It seems like a grand luxury car parade is being held in Las Vegas.
And the drivers are all a group of youthful high school students.
Boys all wear white shirts and ties, serious suits and combed hair.
The girl wore a beautiful prom dress and delicate light makeup on her face.
Everyone got out of the car window and yelled and screamed like a madman, greeting their peers "next door" in a unique way.
The bright sunshine made the young faces glow red, and the street turned into a sea of joy.
"Sisters on the cheerleading team, where are you going to hang out in rags?"
Jenny suddenly got half of her body out of the rear window of the Lincoln, and raised her middle finger in a friendly manner at a Cadillac that was passing by.
A group of young and beautiful girls in the Cadillac were holding hands and shaking their bodies, making love. One of the hot blonde girls got out of the car window, raised her middle finger in return, and at the same time stuck out her tongue provocatively. A tongue nail shone in the noon sun. Hui.
"Idiot Jenny, guess what, we are going to sleep with your daddy!"
"Then you have to go down and apply to His Majesty Satan before you can meet my damn daddy!" Jenny sang rap with a smile,
"Shut up, you are as annoying as a lawnmower! A bunch of idiots!"
The hot girl couldn't stop scolding her, and was about to get back into the car. Her eyes suddenly glanced at the attentive driver in the front seat of the Lincoln, and her eyes suddenly lit up.
"Sorry, I was wrong, not all idiots!"
She moved her soft little hand toward the driver with a smile on her face, blinked her false eyelashes, and raised her charming eyes.
"Dean, don't waste time with these boring nerds. Come and play in our car. We will be your dance partners tonight!"
Immediately, a row of girls in the car raised their heads and straightened their long legs, showing off their beautiful figures.
"How about teaching us shooting and kung fu all night?" Another cheerleading girl in the co-pilot put her broad mind outside the window frame and blew kisses amidst the waves.
Dean smiled and shook his head.
"You little bitches in heat, go to the zoo and find the chimpanzees!" Gretchen poked her head out of the second-row window, swung her hand and poured half a bottle of water into the blonde hottie's face.
"Fake Squid, Bichi!"
Gretchen drew back contentedly.
Dean cooperated tacitly and accelerated away from the Cadillac.
After the interlude, the seven people entered Britney's house talking and laughing.
The four girls occupied the bedroom and closed the door, took out a dazzling pile of lipstick, foundation, nail polish, and various cosmetics, and began to help each other put on makeup and braid exquisite and complicated hairstyles.
He won't come out until evening.
…
"Three gentlemen, it's your turn to show off. Whoever is more diligent will drive to the flower shop and bring back our hand flowers and collar flowers."
Jenny's lion's roar came from behind the wooden door.
"Three collar flowers, four hand flowers, remember the colors, don't make a mistake!"
Rust and Baker looked at each other in tacit understanding and said with a smile, "We unanimously elect the most popular Dean to be the 'flower protector'."
…
"Two lazy guys!" Dean reluctantly went out, drove the extended Lincoln, and returned to the flower shop.
Almost every high school prom in Las Vegas falls on today, and the parking lots are packed with cars.
"Shet, you can't even find a parking space?"
Dudu!
A Chevrolet behind the Lincoln started honking its horn frantically.
Dean reluctantly walked around the shopping mall and finally stopped the car at a remote place outside the back door. The place was so quiet that not even a ghost could be seen, which was in sharp contrast to the bustle in front.
"Gretchen and I are blue tulips."
Dean recalled the color of the flowers and walked out.
"Beck and Jenny Red Rose."
"Rast Britney White Asshole."
"Wait, what kind of flower is Abby?!"
Dean walked under the iron fence of the back door, paused in his steps, and inexplicably felt a slight and short sting like a pinprick on his right thigh.
He instinctively turned on his God's perspective and looked around. Within a radius of thirty meters, the semi-flat square was empty and quiet.
The breeze is blowing, the sun is blazing, and the air is filled with the enthusiasm of summer.
This was supposed to be a perfect day to enjoy prom.
But at this moment.
The wind stopped, all sounds disappeared, and the Creator seemed to have pressed the pause button for the entire world.
Perception exceeding 13 gave Dean an unknown sixth sense——
There was a terrifying monster dormant in the dark that stared at him. The strong sense of crisis turned into an electric current and penetrated Dean's body. A suffocating fear and dizzy heart palpitations arose spontaneously. In an instant, he seemed to be frightened. Like a cat, the hair all over his body stood up, and goosebumps appeared on his skin!
run!
Run away!
"Shadows of the Past!"
Dean screamed wildly, the ghost armor instantly wrapped around his body, and he rolled to the ground like lightning!
Bo!
There was an extremely slight sound of fluctuations in the air, but with terrifying kinetic energy, it traveled hundreds of meters in an instant, tore the air, and hit his right thigh.
The highly condensed ghost armor was instantly broken, flickering unsteadily and scattered into the void.
A huge boat-tail-shaped warhead ran out of kinetic energy and fell at Dean's feet.
Then there were a few more pops in the air, like darts being thrown into a paper dart board.
Dean knelt on his knees and lowered his head - a series of special bullets with sharp needles penetrated his thighs, waist, and back from his suit pants.
His fingers were shaking uncontrollably.
A strong unwillingness choked his throat and blurred his vision, but the extremely rich chemical substance injected into the needle quickly drained his strength.
Fatigue and lethargy came flooding back.
Plop!
Dean fell limply to the ground. Through his closed eyes, several figures slowly walked in, holding black shields as thick as rocks and wearing black tactical uniforms.
(End of chapter)
