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Chapter 42 I'm not a beggar

 An old street in Brooklyn, a small KFC store on the corner.

"Dong dong dong..." Vivien Leigh banged on the table several times.

"It's morning." She said with some impatience on her face.

The colorful little head on the table raised its head.

Vivien Leigh saw that her eyes were sleepy, a large piece of thick eye shadow was used, and half of her face was dark.

The lower mouth was painted blood red, the lipstick was smeared, and there was a trace of red marks on the chin and corners of the mouth.

This is a non-mainstream person who has failed in pursuing his music dream.

"Hey, are you awake? You didn't fly last night, right?" Vivien Leigh frowned.

After working at KFC for almost a year, Vivien Leigh saw too many homeless people who came to the store to sleep at night.

Some people are very cute and have no bad habits. They wake up by themselves when the shift changes in the morning and then help the store staff clean up.

Some people are very annoying. They come late at night and cannot get up in the morning. When they get up, they open their mouths and ask for "expired hamburgers".

Some people are very hateful, and they will bring bad habits into the store, such as becoming fans, messing around...

Those who play music and engage in art are full of all five poisons, and that type of person is the most annoying.

"Give me a Big Mac!" Harley yawned.

Vivien Leigh was extremely angry, "Do you really think this is a charity hall?! You don't know how to help clean the table when you wake up in the morning. You ask for food when you ask for food. At such a young age, you have hands and feet, but you don't have any respect at all - gah

——”

Looking at the ten-dollar bill clamped between the girl's fingertips, the waitress' anger and rapid-fire words stuck in her throat, turning into a heavy suffocation.

Her face changed from green to red several times. Finally, the terrible reality of "if I lose this job, I will go bankrupt and become a homeless person like her" made Vivien Leigh squeeze out the smile that a waiter should have.

"OK, I'll bring it to you right away." Her voice was as soft as butter.

"Bring me a glass of water first," Harry said.

"Soda, or Coke? A Big Mac costs US$2.50. For a set menu of US$3, you can get a glass of freshly squeezed juice as a gift." Vivien Leigh asked the waiter very politely.

"I want water, the free kind. By the way, I must put more sauce and cheese on my burger." Harley said.

The expression on Vivien Leigh's face became much lighter.

Being so stingy, obviously you won't even get a cent tip.

The burgers had to be made on site and had to wait for a while, but the tap water was ready and served immediately.

Harry looked around and saw that the clock on the wall read a quarter past six, which was a bit early.

However, the street outside has come alive. Even in the front hall of KFC, there are a few homeless people cleaning the tables or mopping the floor with buckets.

Well, they are all homeless people, and Harry followed them into this store last night.

Compared with other homeless people, their spirits are better, their clothes are cleaner and more hygienic.

There is no stinky smell, no mess.

Harley held the water glass, walked outside the door, and squatted in front of the drainage manhole cover on the street...

Uh, brush your teeth.

At that time, in the Great China, provincial capital cities were also covered with heating pipes, but scenes of "white gas leakage" were rarely seen.

I wonder what's special about Gotham's heating pipes, or are they kitchen chimneys?

From street sewers, from the walls of residential buildings, and from rooftops, streams of thick white water vapor emerge all the time.

It seems like the city is constantly breathing.

Like a beast from hell, it exhales the rotten smell of sewers.

The gray and rusty street buildings, the rising pale sun, the rich white air shrouding the city, the hurried pedestrians...

Harley's head shrank, and a police car stopped not far in front of her.

"Old Bic, let's have a hamburger without the sauce, two more pickles, a big malt milkshake..." The policeman got out of the car, but did not come towards her.

Opposite KFC, there is a small food truck. The owner is very busy, and there is a long queue of office workers beside it.

Two patrol policemen, one black and one white, who were a bit stout, did not wait in line and went directly to the front row to order.

Harry didn't see them paying either.

Not only did the police not pay, the boss wearing a chef's hat also took out a bunch of green bills that had been prepared and handed them over together with the hamburger paper bag.

The fat patrolman smiled and stuffed the money into his pocket, picked up the burger and stuffed it into his mouth, treating the customers next to him as if they were dead.

"Old Bic, have you seen a blond girl acting suspiciously recently?" Two policemen asked loudly, with burgers in their left hands and milkshakes in the right, while eating and drinking.

"Witch Harley? No, my customers here are all serious people." The face-slim boss replied cautiously while sweating from his nose.

The black policeman chewed a burger and said vaguely to the white male policeman: "Owen, you go to the south side of the street, I'll check the north side."

"Is it necessary?" The white man Owen was a little unhappy.

"Chief Luobu personally gave the order, three times a day in the morning, noon and evening," the black policeman said.

"Just say that we have checked it, and no one in the office knows about it anyway." Irving is used to working passively.

"This thing is getting a bit big, let's at least hold on to it for a few days." the black policeman sighed.

"Isn't it just that a nun died? How can there be no death in Gotham?" Owen said.

"It's not unusual for people to die every day in Gotham. Chief Colo personally came to the branch and issued orders in front of all the patrol officers. This is a rare sight once a year," the old black man said.

Owen stood up helplessly and suddenly caught a glimpse of Harley opposite him with a mouthful of foam in his mouth. He smiled and said, "I think she is a witch. Why don't we capture her and understand the case thoroughly? She is just a wanderer anyway."

Harry was so frightened that his hair stood on end, and he almost jumped up and kicked him.

The black policeman glanced at her casually and said: "This time the situation is different. It is not Gotham people or Gotham public opinion who demand the case be solved as soon as possible, but the church.

So if the Holy Crusaders want the witch herself, it’s best to capture her alive.”

Harley was stunned.

"Forget it..." The white patrolman threw the empty milkshake box on the road and walked to the street store, shaking his head.

Harley hesitated for a moment, but left immediately without taking the burger.

After a while, Patrolman Owen walked into the KFC store and asked the clerk if he had seen any trace of "Witch Harley".

Vivien Leigh was just like hearing a customer ask "Are there any cockroaches in the kitchen of your store?" She didn't even remember it for a moment, she immediately shook her head and said firmly: "The customers in our store are all decent people."

While dealing with the police, she also took out sandwiches and distributed them to a few "decent people" homeless people.

Well, those people who helped mop the floor and wipe the tables before.

Owen stepped forward and patted the female clerk's plump buttocks before he went to the next store with a smile.

After filling her belly, Harley went to the gas station on the street and exchanged a dollar for half a bucket of steaming boiling water. She washed herself from head to toe in the bathroom nearby.

The woolen jacket that Selena gave me was still on the outside, but my underwear and socks were changed to clean ones.

After putting on makeup again, Harley returned to the street feeling refreshed.

...

Manhattan Island, a bustling pedestrian street with dense crowds.

On the steps outside the shop, a young man lazily strummed his guitar, with an empty guitar box placed in front of him.

There is also a piece of white cardboard beside it, with a line of words written on it: I'm not going to lie to you, I can't stand it anymore, I need money urgently to buy white powder, help me!

In her past life, Harry had seen many people begging with placards.

They either have no money to buy train tickets home, or they have been defrauded of their money, or they are short of hands and feet and cannot support themselves, or their parents, sons and daughters have cancer, or...

For various reasons, people are simply used to seeing "human misery", but this is the first time that Harry has seen someone like this person, so elegant and refined, so sincere and straightforward.

So, she stood there for a long time with two bags on her back and a tin bucket in her hand.

She wanted to see if anyone gave him money.

"You can come and sit here, the place is big enough, I don't mind." The young man glanced at her a few times and finally couldn't help but extend the invitation.

"I won't give you a dime." Harley said.

"Of course, I'm not a policeman, so I won't charge you protection money, and I'm not a gangster, so I'll take your share." The man laughed while strumming the strings, and the music sounded melodious and lively.

Harley was stunned for a moment and realized that both of them had misunderstood what the other meant.

Harley thought he would seek alms from her, and he thought she was his companion.

"I'm different from you, I'm not a beggar!" Harley sat down anyway, three meters away from the addict.

"I understand, you are a singer, the future Avril Lavigne, Britney, and I am not a beggar, I am the future Martian brother." The addict said.

Harley used the guitar case as a pillow, took out a blanket from her bag, laid it out and lay on it. In addition, the iron bucket was placed on the outside, just blocking her head and neck.

Well, when she went to the gas station to take a shower before, hot water only cost twenty cents, and the rest was the rent of the iron bucket.

She thought it was too expensive, so she went to the grocery store and bought one herself.

Stores such as restaurant chains, KFC, motels, and car washes sell hot water to homeless people.

Having a bucket will make bathing much more convenient in the future.

When choosing a bucket, Harry had an idea and found the thickest iron bucket.

When you sleep in the future, you can hide behind it and use it as a "bulletproof wall".

"Hey, you can't make any money like this," the addict shouted.

"I just want to take a lunch break, don't disturb me." Harley said.

"You don't want money, don't you..." The addict approached her and said urgently in a low voice: "You must still have it, right? Lend it to me first to satisfy your cravings, and I will pay you back when you have money."

"What?" Harley was a little confused and wary of his approach.

"Get away from me!" She stretched out half the barrel of a gun from under the blanket.

"Hey, don't get me wrong, I..." The man shrank back as if he had been stung by a scorpion, raised his hands, and shouted aggrievedly: "I just want to borrow some powder from you. I used to have powder."

Whenever I have time, I never hesitate to share it with my friends.”

"I won't touch that thing, really." Harley had no choice but to put the gun back.

"If you don't want to borrow it, then I won't. Why are you lying?" The man's eyes changed when he looked at her, showing disgust and contempt. "Looking at you, I know you have tried everything."

"My appearance...is so obvious?" Harley should have been angry, but was inexplicably happy.

Her disguise has been approved by "street experts".

The addict thought she was stingy and insincere, so he looked away and ignored her.

"I'm not lying to you," Ha Li felt that Du Ping was a serious topic, so it would be better to explain it clearly.

"Look at me." She opened the cashmere blanket, put her left hand behind her back, put her right middle finger on the ground, and quickly did one-arm push-ups.

The addict opened his mouth wide and looked dull.

"Hey, do you believe it now? People who fly high must not have a body as healthy as mine." Harley said proudly.

"Wow, Mom, this sister is so amazing." Suddenly, a childish exclamation came from the side.

Harry turned around and saw a graceful young woman holding a little boy in beautiful clothes, looking at her like he was watching a circus.

"Yes, it's very impressive." The young woman saw Harley's glance, and quickly opened the bag hanging on her shoulder, took out a twenty-dollar bill, and threw it into the iron bucket.

"Hey, I don't-" Harley was about to refuse, but the burger represented by twenty dollars was too delicious.

The more than 100 US dollars she has on her now is from Selena's support!

So, she shut her mouth, turned her head, changed her hand, and continued to do push-ups with one finger.

"Ding ding dong dong..." Coins and banknotes fell into the iron bucket one after another.


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