The days of being a spiritual mentor in Meiman

Chapter 2566: Down (Fifty)

Martin was a skinny black youth with thick black hair but almost no eyebrows. His eyebrows were curved, and he had big eyes and long eyelashes, which were common among Latinos.

As Schiller walked over, he immediately stood up from his chair, smiled warmly, and asked him to look at the so-called Mexican souvenirs he brought from his hometown.

What surprised Schiller was that Martin did not have the slightly tired look of the lower-class people in Gotham, and did not have the vigilant look that was engraved in his bones. His eyes were clear and his smile was bright and warm.

No wonder he could get along well, Schiller thought, but he also felt that this man was probably not simple. If he did not have some special skills, he would not be able to get along so well in the lower class of Gotham.

Schiller opened his spiritual vision, and sure enough, the things he called ancestral relics were all useless small commodities. Only the crystal ball he held in his hand when he was reading the newspaper before had magic power.

Although Schiller saw it, he didn't say much. There are many weirdos in Gotham, and he is not the only one.

Schiller smiled and chatted with him. It was obvious that Martin followed the rule that all low-level Gotham people would follow, that is, don't mess with those who look very gentle.

Schiller wore a gray woolen trench coat and a plaid scarf. Because he didn't wear formal clothes, he didn't use hairspray on his hair. He just combed it simply. It was illuminated by the morning sun and turned brown-gray. It was slightly curled and looked very fluffy.

In addition to the glasses he wore, the temperament revealed in his gestures also showed that he was not a manual laborer, but a clerical staff who sat in the office all year round. Judging from his age, he might be an expert professor or something.

But ordinary experts and professors would not come here to buy things. The class segregation in the United States is very serious. People in their class will move within their scope. People from the elite middle-class community will not go to the slums to buy things, and people from the bottom community will not go to the middle-class supermarket.

Then the purpose of his appearance here is very intriguing. According to Martin's experience, those sanctimonious and gentle upper-class people come here to select victims.

Killing a poor person is much easier than killing a rich person. Most poor people go out and walk to most places. No matter how many dangerous communities they have to pass through, there are not so many surveillances in the places they walk, and some are even in the wilderness.

The poor do not have such a dense social network. Even if they have one, they will not maintain it all the time. Everyone is not particularly clear about each other's movements, and they don't have so much energy to care.

If someone suddenly disappears, and his importance to anyone comes from emotions rather than interests, it is difficult to put much pressure on the police, and it is naturally difficult to solve the case.

"... I'm afraid I have to ask, sir, what are you doing here? Maybe I can introduce you to the composition of the shops here." Martin was still so enthusiastic. Although he was far more cautious than before, his expression did not reveal a bit.

"I want to buy some garden soil. My housekeeper is away on business. It just so happens that I haven't been to the market for a long time. It's quite lively here." Schiller turned his head and looked into the distance. The sunlight made him squint his eyes.

"Oh, yes." Martin smiled and said, "This is quite big. If you want to buy gardening supplies, you have to go to Area J, which is about the same as here, and the distance is diagonal. If your car is parked in the parking lot next to it, you should drive there. You just need to go around this road."

Martin pointed the way to Schiller, hoping that this big trouble would leave quickly, but Schiller's eyes fell on the crystal ball he placed on the chair and said, "Is that for sale?"

Martin looked back and saw the crystal ball. He shook his head and said, "No, sir, not for sale. It's my mother's relic."

Schiller stared at him.

"Okay, I won't hide it from you." Seeing that he was exposed, Martin smiled and said, "This is not a blessing prop. It contains the power of curse, which will bring bad luck to ordinary people. I can't sell it to you."

"My luck has not been very good recently."

"Then I can introduce you to a lucky statue." Martin began to talk about the small commodities behind him.

Schiller really took a fancy to a small statue, in the style of Aztec civilization, the whole is dark wood, and the gold lines are hand-drawn on it, which is completely different from the assembly line products produced in the factory.

"How much is that?" Schiller pointed to the statue he liked.

"My God, you have a good eye. This is really what I brought from my local area." Martin quickly took down the small statue and said.

"Where are you from?"

"Hometown? Mexico, of course."

"I know. Are you from the south or the north? Or are you from Guadalajara?"

Martin was really stunned. He said, "You can actually distinguish several states in Mexico. This is really rare. Most Americans think that the United States occupies the entire Americas. Whether it is Canada or Mexico, they are just small islands in the ocean."

𝑠𝑡𝑜55.𝑐𝑜𝑚

Schiller laughed and said, "I'm not that ignorant. I have several friends working in Guadalajara. If you can tell me the name of your village, maybe I have heard of it."

Martin hesitated for a moment, but still said a Spanish word. Schiller thought it sounded familiar. He said, "Is it on the west side of the Vladimir Mountains? There is a village near Fernando. There is a large field to the south of the village. It used to be It’s a poppy plantation.”

"My God, you've really been to my hometown, God." Martin said a series of Spanish words in a rapid tone.

Schiller knew almost no Spanish but could understand some of the words. He said: "They don't grow poppies there now, right? I heard they have grown spring wheat instead?"

This time Martin was completely stunned.

He opened his mouth, squeezed the statue in his hand, and looked Schiller up and down again.

In fact, Schiller just caught the conversation and chatted with him. After all, you can't just ask him to provide information like a spy. This is not the way for ordinary people to socialize.

But it seems that this Martin seems to have misunderstood a little, but maybe he didn't misunderstand.

Martin immediately calmed down his expression, put on a smile and said: "You are really well-informed, sir. To be honest with you, the situation in my hometown has improved, and I don't have to take care of me at home." Only my disabled mother and my brother who are always too busy with farm work can come to the United States to try their luck.”

"When did you come? In the last few years?"

"Two years ago, it was almost the first wave of publicity for the music festival. Taking advantage of this opportunity, I made a lot of money."

Martin's eyes glanced left and right without trace, and then said: "Sir, if you like this statue, I can give you a discount. In addition, we also provide door-to-door delivery service. You can give me your address tonight." I'll send it to you."

Schiller immediately realized what he was implying, so he took out the business card in his pocket. Martin saw Schiller's first and last name, especially the last name. Rodriguez is a common Spanish surname.

"There is something else I want to ask you." Schiller said: "I heard at the newsstand over there that you are very popular among the Mexicans here. I want to ask you about someone."

As soon as he heard about the newsstand, Martin understood. He rolled his eyes gently and said: "I am so young, how can I be better? I haven't been here long, I have just established myself, but I’m familiar with everyone here, who are you looking for?”

"I don't have a specific name, but I know he has a tattoo on his back." Schiller took out a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Martin.

Martin took it over and wasn't too surprised. Many people here look for people based on tattoos or appearance. It can be regarded as a custom left over from the gangster era. Gangsters in each area have different tattoo characteristics. Just look at the tattoos. Can know the origin of this person.

But the moment he saw the pattern, Martin's pupils shrank suddenly.

"Sorry, sir, I don't think this is a local tattoo. I have never seen such a gangster tattoo. Let's do it this way. I will ask you for it in the afternoon. If there is any news, I will tell you when I deliver the goods in the evening."

Schiller nodded, knowing that he might not want to say it here. He said, "Thank you then. How much does this statue cost?"

"Don't rush yet." Martin quickly wrapped up the statue, then rushed to the recliner where he had just been with a long stride, and wrapped up the crystal ball that Schiller had just looked at under the newspaper.

He just put the larger wood carving into a box and put it at the back, but he put the crystal ball in a handbag and handed it to Schiller and said: "If you really like it, of course I can sell this to you. But it’s best not to open the package easily and just put it in the corner of the house.”

This made Schiller a little interested. He showed a playful smile and said, "Didn't you say this will bring bad luck? Do you want to curse me?"

"That's not how you see it, sir." Martin said glibly: "The energy in every divine object changes with the energy of the person. In different auras, it will show different appearances. Some things In one's hands some may bring misfortune, but some may bring him luck."

"Do you think the aura of this crystal ball matches mine?"

"Of course, you are its unique master, but sometimes the energies will affect each other, so you'd better not open its package and just wait for the luck it brings you."

Schiller picked up his handbag without saying anything. After paying the money, he turned and left, heading towards the road Martin just pointed out.

Martin stared at his back, and the smile on his face gradually disappeared. He walked back to the lounge chair and picked up the newspaper he had just read. It was all in Spanish, and the headline on the front page read in one line of large letters - "Guadala" The anti-government forces in Hara State are retreating steadily, and the domestic situation has become stable and steadily improving."

Martin's expression darkened.