Nanjing Shopkeeper: Kill the Japanese, I Won't Leave Any Residue Behind

Nanjing, winter. The wind was like a knife, digging into the collar. Qin Muchao kneaded the dough. The knuckles are thick, full of cracks, and stained with powder that cannot be washed away. Across the street, Fujiwara Yuki is applying lipstick. I heard that the frame of the small mirror is made of human skin. Damn, that's so fucking particular. The dough must be kneaded evenly and the dough must be clean. This girl has poisonous eyes, but Qin Muyao has a clear heart. Killing a traitor counts as a joke? The key is not to leave any traces. Just like this noodle, when it's kneaded in and steamed, no one can tell what's in it. The fat pig in Kameda asked for steamed buns. OK. Qin Muyao mixed the sawdust into the surface, and the fatal wall was built into the fifth floor of "Wuhen". The wall falling down must be like a natural disaster, not a murder. He picked out some garlic skin from under his fingernails and flicked it into the wind. "Killing is a small matter, but starving to death is a big deal." He spat, bloodshot, "Without food in the belly, the bones will be brittle, and it will take a lot of effort to cut them." The wind picked up the garlic skin and rushed towards the red door of the extra high school. Qin Muchao lowered his head and continued to rub his face. In this game, when that girl licks her lips, she won't be able to taste any blood between her teeth. #Humananatomy #INTELLIGENCE Crush #Cold Spy War #Everyday Killer #Silent Game #Nanjing Secret War