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Evil Awe-Inspiring 143 Uncle 7 And Papa 8 2

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"The Vietnamese! They d.a.m.n touched my nest! It seems that last month's incident upset them!" Uncle 7 sighs, "I'm stuck in the house. If it wasn't this kid, I'd be finished." After a pause, he adds, "The boy seems to have a great dexterity, but unfortunately he don't know how to play the guns."

"Well." Papa 8 knocks on the table with his left hand, which has only three fingers. The seemingly peaceful eyes turn around me twice. To be honest, his eyes seem peaceful, but it really hit the body, making people feel very uncomfortable! It's a kind of vision that seems to be able to see people through, a kind of examination!

"What did 7 say your name just now? Well, Chen Yang?"

I nod, "Just call me Little 5."

"Well, you settle down here first." He smiles and says, "You see, I only have eight fingers, so people outside here all call me Eight Fingers. If you like, just call me Papa 8."

He has a gentle smile and a slight sense of refinement, which makes people feel like spring breeze.

But this makes me feel uncomfortable.

Because of his style, his temperament and his manner are very similar to a person!

Juan!

Papa 8 presses a b.u.t.ton on the table, immediately the back door opens and two men come in: "You push Uncle 7 out to rest and ask the doctor to come and check for him." He speaks in a calm tone.

Uncle 7 wants to say something, but he looks at Papa 8 and does not open his mouth. He just pats me on the shoulder. Then two men come respectfully and push him out. I see that this Papa 8 has something to say to me.

I just look at him unblinkly, without batting an eyelid. He smiles and points to a chair next to him. "Sit down."

Then he smiles politely at me and says, "Wait a minute first."

Then he presses the b.u.t.ton again. This time, a man comes in with clean work clothes. He says quickly, "Uncle 7 had an accident at home today. It was done by Vietnamese people. I'm worried about last month's incident. You check it up everywhere. How did the news get out? Communicate with several a.s.sociations. Look at them... Um..." He looks at me and doesn't go on, but the man has already known it and nodded out.

I can see that the man, whether walking or standing, is very straight, with a very good posture when he's moving, and he has obvious traces of the army.

Then the Papa 8 sighs, goes aside, pouring me a gla.s.s of water with a seemingly old thermos bottle, and smiles at me to show me that I'm welcome.

"Little 5, right?" He smiles at me and says, "Tell me something about your story. What trouble did you cause at home?"

I meditate and repeat what I have said to Uncle 7 in the car.

Papa 8 does not speak, has been listening so quietly, fingers taping lightly on the table, as if with some strange rhythm. Because of the rhythm of his finger tapping is so strange that on several occasions I can't help being carried by the rhythm, and the tone of his voice also changes a little.


He smiles, feeling my discomfort and says, "Oh, sorry. This is my old habit."

Suddenly my heart moves and I remember that the rhythm of his finger tapping is in accordance with the rhythm of an old song: As time goes by!

When I finish, he gently touches his eyebrows and slowly says, "I think, according to what you said, in fact, your troubles at home have been over. The gang members thought you were dead, don't they? Someone has helped you make a fake corpse, so you should be in no trouble."

"There is." I shake my head, and the corners of my eyes muscles are jumping lightly. "There's still the troubles, the one help me faking my death also want me to be killed to keep my mouth shut up forever!"

Papa 8 suddenly laughs, "Well, you don't have to explain more, I understand. You are not the first or the last of these things." He shakes his head. "But now I have a question to ask you. This question is very important. Answer me when you think it over."

"OK!" I nod.

"You are now in Canada. No matter who wants to kill you in hometown, the forces can't come here, so no one will hunt you here any more. You are safe now. So I need to figure out what you plan to the future." Pap 8 says slowly, "You are recommended by Ocean. I can tell you very clearly that he is our brother. We absolutely believe the person he sends. But you have to figure out your thought first."

I stare at him.

He suddenly laughs, "You saw it at 7's house today. What we do here is not ordinary business. In other words, we are not good people! If you just want to run and live a safe life here, depending on Ocean's sentiment, I'll find a way to get you a legal ident.i.ty, give you a sum of money, let you have a legal life in Canada, and help you find a job, or let you do a business here. In that case, you will live here in peace and quiet and live your own life. And I promise you, with us, you won't be bullied by anyone else."

I'm keeping quiet and staring at him.

"The other way is to join us." Papa 8 sighs: "Ocean, this fellow, since he sent you here, but he did not explain any word of his own diea. It presumably he meant that you have to make your own decisions. But let me remind you that if you join us, you are not going to to continue to live a safe life. Canada is not your h.e.l.l, but similarly, here is not heaven too!"

I stare at him quietly, then change my sitting position, look at a box of cigarettes on his desk, hesitate for a moment, point it and ask, "May I?"

"Oh, of course." Papa 8 smiles and throws the cigarette box to me.

I take it, get one cigarette out and light it: "I haven't smoked on the sea for several days. Really addicted it."

"It's more difficult to jump from the sea. Now many people will choose to jump from the air." Papa 8 smiles faintly.

I know what he says about jump from the sea and jum from the air are all slang, which means smuggling by boat and by plane..

I take a breath of cigarettes, and the long-lost smell of tobacco moves back and forth in my lungs. I can't help sighing. Then I raise my eyes and look at him. I say solemnly, "Papa 8! In fact, I've thought about it before I came."

"Well?" He makes a gesture to let me go on.

"In fact, before I came, Ocean suggested that I might go to live in the county town of in the northwest or southwest, and then live a safe life as a good citizen. But I refused." I slowly spilt out a smoke, looking at his eyes clear: "I can not forget what I have met befere! I used to have my own life, a lovely apartment, a sweet home, a woman I love, but just because of..." I cough, hiding the muscles in the corners of my eyes and the expression on my face, and say quickly, "I've lost all this! I was chased like a lost dog! After opening my eyes every day, the first thing to do is to celebrate that I have lived another more day! At the same time, I pray G.o.d let me continue to be lucky today! Later I understood that I was chased so badly because I was a little common people! A common people who has nothing! I'm a good fighter. I can fight several people at the same time. One night, I was fighting all the way down the street with a knife. One faced more than a dozen! But what's the use of that? I have only one life, only one..."

I grit my teeth and stared at him: "I have only one life, I don't care about desperation, but if I finished and it would be over. But the people who chase me have a lot of lives on their hands!"

Papa 8 doesn't talk.

"I've thought it very clearly, I do not want to find a place, and then hide like a mouse, I do not want to be anonymous for a lifetime! I don't want to hide my face every day for fear that others will recognize me! I don't want to live that way!" I grit my teeth and say, "If I were willing to live that kind of life, I wouldn't have to take such a big risk to come to Canada! I came to try to find a way out. I said to myself and Ocean, I'll be beautiful, swaggering back!"

Papa 8 still does not speak, but quietly takes the cigarette box, takes out a cigarette from it, and lights it himself.

"For this matter, I almost lost my whole life! What do I get when I abandon my life?" I grin hatefully. "I got a saying,'I'm sorry, you have to die'. As a result, I have nothing now, family, women, friends, work, life... There's nothing left. Not even what I thought was my father's and brother's love! I fled all the way, I fought all the way, I hid all the way. I almost died many times, but I just don't want to die! I told me I would be going back alive!"

The more I'm saying, the more raging, the more blood and fury pouring into my heart. Suddenly, a hot-blooded movie that I saw when I was young jumps out of my mind, I remember a line of word, which makes me have a serious resonance at the moment!

"I must go back! Not because I want to prove that I can, but because I want others to know! What I have lost will be brought back by myself!"

Papa 8 takes a look at me, smokes a deep breath of cigarette, then stands up and pats me on the shoulder: "You come with me."

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