Reborn with Naruto In Tokyo, Japan

Adachi Ward, Takenozuka Town.

Takenozuka is a relatively prosperous area in Adachi. After all, it is close to the station, with people coming and going, natural convenience, and the food and customs industries are very open.

The shops in the island country do not necessarily have to be opened in the shops along the street. For example, some membership-only shops, as well as some water merchants and special bars are actually opened in buildings similar to apartments. Once you walk in, you will have to register.

After about half an hour, the monk walked out of the shop of the old woman's mother, Sang.

"Amitabha, the benefactor, I have found it for you. Next time, be careful not to forget these things somewhere."

Where are there any ghosts and corpses in the walls, just in the pipes of the curtains, some small dead fish have been put in, and they will stink for a long time in the summer.

When the little fish came in, Mom Sang's face was not very good.

"Oh, I remember it." Mom Sang Yue was more happy when she saw the monk's bald head, "Fang master, this is thanks to Jin, thank you for exorcising evil spirits in the shop."

There was money in the envelope, which still looked a little thick.

Mom Sang earns a lot of money, and it is a high-paying industry anyway.

"No need." The monk shook his head, lowered his head and smiled, "Even if there is no poor monk, the donor will find it. It's just a simple matter."

"Physical exorcism is also exorcism. How can you not thank me? If you don't accept it, I am so greedy, and the Buddha will punish me."

"In that case, the donor might as well give the little monk some food."

Seeing that the monk was unmoved, Mama Sang also understood that this monk was different from the previous monk customers in the shop. He was a real monk.

"What kid, I don't think you're young..." Mama Sang really found something to eat from the refrigerator cabinet.

Although water merchants mainly sell services, there are also small snacks to eat.

There are a lot of things, not many staple foods, but there are a lot of snacks and desserts, and there are emergency breads. The one that really fills the stomach is the small sushi, and along the way, I stuffed some wine in the bag.

"Thank you, Lord."

Mother Sang looked at the monk affectionately, and handed over the business card reluctantly, "The owner of the shop has no business card, I don't know which master in the temple is. I will go to worship Buddha in the future, and we can meet again."

"Hey, there's no such thing." Mama Sang's business card is full of the style of water merchants, and it's exaggerated to say, "I'm just a wandering monk. Wherever I go, that inch of land is a temple."

It was another Amitabha, and when I looked at the past, only the back of the monk was left.

Listening to the monk's words, the corner of Mama Sang's clothes moved.

Carrying a bag of food, covered in darkness, the monk walked on the noisy street without looking back.

The breeze was coming, and the flag banners of the shops on the street were also swaying by the monk's side, shadowy.

The bustling colorful lights blended with the black of the night. Mama Sang pressed the blowing corner of her clothes and put her hand on her chest. In a trance, she seemed to return to the era of Baihui Yamaguchi and Ashin, which was her young memory.

Studying, falling in love, being deceived, walking on the road of no return, struggling in the quagmire, adapting, and then using the quagmire in turn, and after wasted, I have become an old woman.

If I could meet this monk when I was young, would the trajectory of my life be completely different? I hate you for being late!

Seeing the monk walking further and further, Mama Sang squeezed the railing: "He's a good man."

When the monk's back was about to disappear into the crowd with thousands of faces, she opened her mouth and the wrinkles on her face stretched toward the roots of her ears.

The young memory and the current picture are pinched together, and the voices on the sleepless street are rolling in the auricle.

The back of the monk is getting bigger and bigger in her eyes, and other unrelated things in the world are getting smaller and smaller.

The breeze sucked into the mouth, squeezed out from the chest, and gathered in the mouth to form an explosive note.

"Welcome next time!"

The bald back with the bag is a little lonely, out of tune with this lively street.

The monk walked for a while, and following the location in his memory, he skillfully found a hidden corner behind a pilgrimage.

This is hidden, but relatively speaking, because it is less than 50 meters away from turning a corner, it is a relatively popular street, and the neon lights and human voices are mixed together, showing the bright modernity of Tokyo.

But at such a distance, a group of homeless lodging in the narrow aisle has not been spotted by the spotlight, so it can be said that it is not hidden.

They live in shacks.

The shack is like a tomb from the Kofun era.

Standing tombstone.

A shelter made of simple plywood is a house. The doors and windows are made of plastic found in the garbage collection point. They can be used when they are hung up. The advantage of going down to sleep is that you don't have to be afraid of being crushed to death when there is an earthquake.

Some homeless people will also pay attention to placing the collected things outside the shack, such as the figures thrown away by the otaku, children's toys, and all kinds of strange things. Some people come in desperation to steal their homeless things.

From birth to the present, the only valuable thing in the whole body is a life.

Can this life be stolen?

Seeing the monk approaching, a homeless man in the shack shouted, "Here comes the great man!"

"Oh!"

"What else is there to eat?"

"I said how did I smell the scent."

After a while, figures emerged from the seemingly dead shacks. No matter whether they were elite workers, construction workers, stock traders, or even entrepreneurs before the homeless, under the long-term influence, the personalities of the homeless gradually tended to be homogenous. change.

Their usual food is made by everyone and boiled together, or the breakfast is a meal given out by a public welfare group. The clear soup and rice **** can mix food and clothing, and the taste is definitely not there.

It is such a meal that it can also make the ancient village warriors shed tears of sadness.

In several districts outside Tokyo and in various cities under the jurisdiction of Tokyo, the number of homeless people is not rare, but because of the experienced management of the government, there are no large slums.

"I'm disappointed everyone, it's all food that you can't handle." The monk untied the bag and revealed the food sent by his mother~www.wuxiamtl.com~ Wow? ! cake? "

"Wine, it's wine."

"This wine is a good wine. You should have six hundred glasses in an izakaya."

As long as it's not pure alcohol, it's good wine for them.

"And sashimi, it's delicious, who has leftover mustard?"

The homeless sighed heartily at the richness of the food. Although they usually don't starve to death, there is no way to eat good food. How can they not be excited when they see so many good food in the bag this time.

"Master, don't you want to eat?"

"Don't eat after lunch."

"Strange, a monk like you is really strange."

A homeless man came over holding a lame cat and patted the guy on the shoulder: "This is a human rule, how can you understand it."