In the early morning on the streets of New York, someone had to push open a crack in the iron manhole cover of the sewer from the inside.
The cold wind flowed in along the gap. Soldier Boy stuck out his messy head and looked around like a thief marmot to make sure there were no early-rising paparazzi or passers-by around, and then crawled out on hands and knees.
That gray tattered windbreaker was stained with old sewer dirt, and exuded a fermented, sour smell, mixed with the smell of kelp that had not been washed last night. The lethality was astonishing.
He leaned against the fire hydrant on the side of the road for a while, his stomach protesting so loudly that it even scared away the wild cat across the street.
His back hurt from sleeping underground last night, so he finally figured it out.
It is absolutely impossible to return to Vought International. He hates those bumbling capitalists the most.
Go find those old friends from the past?
Forget it, after so many years, they probably even have a son, who still recognizes him as an old gangster.
After much deliberation, there is only one place left for this big New York City.
Long Island Estate.
In any case, biologically speaking, the little golden retriever named John is his biological son.
Isn't it natural for me to go to my son's house to have a good meal and take a hot bath?
Even if the man named Lynn speaks harshly, and even if that kid has a bad temper, as long as he shamelessly squats at the door, they can't really watch him starve to death in the snow.
"I'm not going to bow my head and admit defeat. I'm going to spy on the enemy and collect the alimony I deserve."
Soldier Boy used this set of self-deceptive logic to mentally build himself up, then tightened his dirty windbreaker and walked in the direction of Long Island.
By the time he arrived at Long Island Estate, it was already broad daylight.
It snowed just last night, and the driveway outside the Manor was covered with a thick white blanket.
Through the black wrought iron gate, Soldier Boy saw John wearing a down jacket and holding a large snow shovel in his hand, cleaning the snow in the yard.
The exhaust fan in the kitchen was blowing out white smoke, and there was a faint aroma of fried bacon and hot milk wafting out.
Soldier Boy smelled the smell, his throat rolled wildly, he strode forward and grabbed the cold Iron Gate railing.
"Hey! Little bastard!"
Soldier Boy shouted in a hoarse voice, "Hurry up and open the door. I've been freezing outside all night. Get me something to eat!"
John stopped shoveling the snow.
He turned his head and Azure's eyes looked at the man outside the door who looked even more miserable than a homeless man. There was no surprise in his eyes, nor did he mean to open the door.
"You are not welcome here. Lynn said that if you come, just pretend that you haven't seen me."
John's voice was calm. After saying this, he turned around and continued to wield the snow shovel to deal with the snow on the ground, completely treating the former United States icon outside the door as nothing.
Soldier Boy The muscles on his face twitched.
He looked like a Superheroes, and he came over to beg for food, but he was not even allowed to enter the gate.
A burst of embarrassment and anger rushed straight to his forehead. He tightly grasped the railing of the wrought iron gate with both hands, and veins popped out on the back of his hands.
"You won't open it, right? OK, I'll go in by myself!"
As he spoke, he exerted force with both arms, and the sturdy alloy Iron Gate immediately made an overwhelming sound of metal twisting.
"You could try taking this door down."
John didn't even look back, the snow shovel in his hand made a harsh friction sound on the ground.
"But I have to remind you that none of the people who came to this Manor before and damaged the gates and flowers and plants had a good end. If you feel that your bones are harder now than last night, you can continue."
This gentle warning was like a basin of ice water, directly extinguishing the evil fire in Soldier Boy's heart.
The key is that his hands and feet are weak from hunger, and Chest Blast is still on strike.
If he really had to fight head-on, he would most likely be thrown out as trash again today.
"I just think this door is a little crooked. I'd like to help you straighten it out."
Soldier Boy coughed twice, let go of his hand angrily, and pretended to adjust the collar of his windbreaker to hide his embarrassment.
At this moment, the door of the villa opened.
Big Golden Retriever Buddy ran out with cheerful steps.
It originally came out to inspect the snow clearing progress of John, but just as it was halfway into the yard, a gust of wind blew by, sending the smell from outside the gate into its nose.
Buddy made a sudden stop in the snow, and his front paws slipped and left two marks on the ground.
It stared at Soldier Boy outside the door with its dog eyes wide, and immediately covered its nose with two paws.
"God, where did you go to study?"
Buddy's disgusted voice directly rang in the air, "Last night it was fish mixed with kelp, but this morning it was directly upgraded to canned herring fermented in the sewer? Even if you go to the garbage station twice, you will smell fresher than now."
Soldier Boy opened his eyes wide, looking at this talking dog, and instantly found an outlet for his frustration last night.
"What do you know, you mutated stupid dog! I have the taste of a tough guy! You, a beast who only knows how to pick up bones on the ground, dare to laugh at me?"
Buddy put down a paw, with disdain in his eyes, and directly stabbed Soldier Boy where it hurt the most:
"Tough guy? Do you mean the tough guy who was beaten black and blue by his nine-year-old son, and was finally thrown into the sea like a tin can and bubbling? Wow, then your vicissitudes of life are really different."
Soldier Boy felt like his heart had been stabbed hard, and he jumped in anger.
"You know nothing! That's what I let him do! How noble do you think you are? You are just a pet they keep, a bastard wagging your tail and begging for some dog food every day! Look at your morality, I guess when they took you to the pet hospital, they also cut off your two balls? You are not even a real male dog now, you are a neutered eunuch dog!"
Now it's Buddy's turn to break the defense.
The matter of sterilization is simply the biggest psychological shadow in its life, and it is an untouchable inverse scale.
Although Lynn had explained to him that his behavior was very unnatural when he was not enlightened, and he was afraid of affecting the mental health of John, who was already a bit precocious and was under house arrest in the laboratory at the time.
But!
Buddy I only regret that I didn't drink Compound V sooner, so that I could speak sooner.
Buddy was instantly furious. The golden hair on his body stood up. He pointed at the man outside the door and yelled:
"You fart! My care is for the sake of health! At least I have a warm fireplace every night, endless canned beef, and Lynn to cook for me and comb my hair! What about you?"
Buddy turned on the violent output mode without mercy.
"You have lived for a hundred years, and no one cares about your life or death! Even your own son despises your stink! You are just an outdated old garbage that has been eliminated by the times and abandoned by everyone! You can only wear the rags thrown away by others and compete with rats for pizza in the sewers! You are worse than a dog. At least no one in this family will throw me out of the door!"
"You emasculated fur ball!"
"You old antique that no one wants!"
A person and a dog started to exchange trash talk without any limits through the black wrought iron gate.
They both accurately grasped the weakest and most vulnerable point in each other's heart, and frantically poured salt into each other's wounds.
The entire Long Island Estate morning was filled with the old hooligan's yelling and Golden Retriever's barking.
John sighed, switched the snow shovel to the other hand, and continued to clear the snow on the ground.
He felt that Lynn was right. Not only did this old man have poor mobility, he was also really not very smart. He could actually quarrel with a dog at home.