"Cough... cough cough cough!"
Before these Little Turtless could join in the fun and take a closer look, the figure that everyone thought was dead suddenly seemed to be electrocuted. It lifted up from the floor tiles and bowed violently.
Immediately afterwards, a mouthful of dirty water mixed with underground black mud and coffee was spurted out from the man's throat with a loud sound, and he vomited directly on the feet of the Michelangelo in front of him who loved watching the fun.
"Oh my God! This old man is still hot!"
Michelangelo jumped back and jumped back, holding the wooden stick in his hand in the air, as if he wanted to hit but didn't dare to do it.
The one lying on the wet ground was none other than Joseph who was kicked down from the waste sewage well by Pist.
The old man's gray hair stuck to his bluish forehead like waterweed.
He dug his bloodshot hands into the cracks of the red bricks on the ground and coughed until his eyeballs almost popped out of their sockets.
Pist is still a newbie after all.
The amount of medicine was not enough, allowing Joseph to escape.
Joseph collapsed on the muddy ground, waving his hands and wiping away the foam on his face with the wet cuffs of his coat.
He finally opened his eyelids, and the dim light from the construction light in front of him was a bit dazzling.
But when his eyes focused, the old man was stunned.
Squatting directly in front of him was the fallen angel Lucifer, who was covered in pitch black;
To the left and right of Lucifer, there are four aliens with green skin and oily hair standing at random, with colorful floral cloth strips tied on top of their heads and turtle caps on their bodies;
Looking to the side, one can see Big Rat, which is about half a person tall and has an old look on his face.
The only sound left in the sewer was the gurgling sound of water hitting the pipes.
Joseph blinked twice, raised his eyelids that were swollen by dirty water, and said in a trembling voice:
"... Is this hell?"
Michelangelo turned to Black Noir and whispered, "Instructor, this old man is so wet that he thinks that Master Splinter is leading the way for the dead."
"Sure enough, it's all my fault for not sticking to my heart and bowing my head to Vought..."
At this moment, Joseph fell into endless trouble and self-blame.
"Old man, are you stupid?"
Michelangelo took half a step forward and stabbed Joseph twice with the short wooden blade in his hand. "You are not dead. This is not a hell for dead people. You followed the abandoned sewage diverter pipe in front and floated all the way to our house."
Joseph was stunned for a long time, stretched out his hand to touch the hard wet red bricks under his body, and twitched with his stiff nose.
The smell of old muddy water and the unique fermented smell of sewers that hit your nose is indeed not something that a dead person can smell.
He slowly relaxed his tense shoulders, but his mind was still a little confused, and he followed Michelangelo's words and glanced around.
There is a large leaking cement roof above the head, and next to it are thick pipes covered with rust. In a dark corner further away, there are a few old tires and broken wooden boxes piled up from nowhere.
"Your home... is a sewer?"
Joseph's cloudy old eyes were filled with disbelief.
Michelangelo was immediately silenced by these words.
He blinked, turned to look at the brothers around him, spread his hands, and made a helpless expression. He felt that it was not enough to express his feelings, so he simply rolled his eyes in the air.
"Old man, what do you mean by that? What happened to the sewer?"
The most hot-tempered Raphael was not happy and raised his eyebrows under the red cloth strip, "No one comes here to collect rent, and no one honks the horn early in the morning to disturb people's sleep. It's cool in the summer and sheltered from the wind in the winter. Except for the occasional troublesome takeaway like you who float by the river, it's great here!"
Leonardo, who was wearing a blue cloth strip next to him, shook his head and was about to pull Raphael back half a step so as not to scare the old man who had just woken up.
But Joseph didn't listen to their complaints about the rent at all.
Old Wizards has been frightened in this forest and in the office for so long, and his mind has long been firmly tied to the keywords Vought International and hunting Fantastic Beasts.
Looking at these four rare creatures who are almost as tall as humans, can walk on two legs, and can quarrel with wooden knives, as well as the white-bearded Big Rat and Joseph sitting on the swivel chair behind, who have spent a lifetime building a magical worldview, they walked directly into another dead end.
"You... are you Fantastic Beasts?"
Joseph spoke very softly, for fear that if the voice was louder, the rare miracles in front of him would be scared away.
"What the hell is God?"
Donatello touched the back of his head.
I was about to ask for a clear answer, but before the words came to my lips, I saw Joseph sitting on the ground and suddenly nodded his head twice.
"Yes, needless to say, you must be Fantastic Beasts."
Joseph may not be in good spirits now, his eyes are flashing with compassion,
"Only in the deep corners of modern society that are inaccessible to these cannibals can we raise creatures like you who are enlightened and understand human speech. I have worked at Ministry of Magic for most of my life and have read so many illustrations, but I have never seen anyone like you."
Four Little Turtles was stunned for a moment after hearing this, with big eyes and small eyes.
I'm chovy!
Where is this going?
Tell me what you said in human terms!
But before Michelangelo could say another few words of ridicule, Joseph's face, which was still in a daze, suddenly looked as if a layer of frost had fallen on it, and instantly turned extremely pale.
A huge panic and anxiety rushed out of his heart.
"No... you can't stay here!"
Joseph didn't care that all the bones in his body were still hurting. He put his hands on the floor tiles and raised his heavy body halfway up.
He stretched out his bloodshot hand and grabbed the wrist of Michelangelo who was closest to him, with astonishing strength.
"Run! You have to run away! Get out of here, get out of New York, get out of United States! Run as far away as possible!"
The old man's voice already had a crying tone.
The despair and anger that had accumulated in his heart in the past few days were all thrown at the little green guys in front of him who didn't know anything at this moment.
He was abandoned by the subordinates he had favored for most of his life and was thrown into the sewer like a dead dog. But the first thing he thought about when he opened his eyes was that he must never let these rare beings make the same mistakes as those animals in the forest.