The fat man didn't treat himself as an outsider at all. He opened the refrigerator door and started to make stocks that I put in the refrigerator. The disgusting person was broken and placed in the refrigerator. Next to him was the late night snack I prepared for myself.

"Who are you?" I took a few steps back, quietly grabbed a fruit knife with my right hand and hid it behind me, then took a deep breath and asked, "Really speaking, Fatty Wang has been dead for more than 60 years. Even if he can live until now, he should be an old man in his twilight years, so you can't be him at all."

"First, I don't call Fatty Wang, my name is Wang Kaixuan. Fatty Mr. I'm not fat, I'm just quite burly." Fatty Wang tore off the chicken legs of the roasted chicken in the refrigerator and stuffed them directly into his mouth. Then, the corner of his mouth moved and spit out a complete chicken bone. "Second, your roasted chicken tastes good, it's just a little too small. Remember to buy only a bigger one next time."

I was speechless and watched him chew all the roast chicken in three mouthfuls and spit all over the floor. I was about to ask something else, but I saw him throw an envelope directly over, which was bulging inside, and I don’t know what it was.

"Pat Master, I have a clever idea. I have known that you have to ask questions for a long time, so I have prepared a few photos of the past and you will understand it yourself." After chewing the roast chicken, Fatty Wang went through the boxes and went to find beer to drink.

I opened the envelope and there was indeed a stack of old photos inside. It looked like I had been in the past. I took out one of them and took a closer look.

There are five people in the photo, all wearing military uniforms. Among them, a fat man with a fat face looked particularly conspicuous. I glanced at the fat man who was drinking with a big mouthful of wine, and found that the person in the photo was eighty-slight similar to him, but the fat man in front of me was just a little thinner.

The other four people were very ordinary. Two of them were obviously professional soldiers, all of whom were shaved with the exclusive buzz heads of soldiers. The remaining two had beards that were more than ten centimeters long and looked like teachers teaching Chinese. Their eyes were slightly narrowed and their right hand pressed against their waists, full of the atmosphere of the world.

I turned the photo backwards and found a line of words behind the photo, which read: On the third day of the 19th year of Xinyuan Yijiuwu, the special operations team took a photo before departure, and Li Mengfan left a pen.

I was shocked and hurriedly looked over the photos to see the characters on it. Sure enough, one of the two soldiers with buzz cuts looked very much like Zhang Xingkuo, a veteran who told me the story before.

"What's wrong? Keep looking?" The fat man glanced at me, then went to eat with his head buried.

I took out the second photo. This time I did not go to see the content of the photo first, but immediately looked at the words behind the photo. I saw that the photo read: Give it to my dearest comrade-in-arms and my brother Commander Wang Kaixuan, and the Jinshi Captain Hu Bayi, 1974.

I was completely stunned at this moment because I happened to know Hu Bayi. He was originally one of the old men invited by the Global Supernatural Archives magazine column team, and was the leader of the contemporary gold-touching lieutenant after Sun Guofu. Among the stories he told me, there was also a fat man named Wang Kaixuan. I thought it was just a coincidence, and was preparing to sort out the materials and publish the story told by Mr. Hu Bayi in the form of a second book. But now it seems that this matter has to be slowed down.

I suppressed my surprise and went to see the contents of the photo. There were only two people in this photo, both of whom looked like they were in their twenties, and they were all wearing trendy clothes and trousers that were popular in the 1960s and 1970s. They were all wearing big backs and sat on a flatbed tricycle, with layers of things like cassettes (cassettes for listening to music).

As expected, there is also a fat man in the photo, very similar to the fat man in front of him, or in other words, they are the same person.

But the problem is here!

These two photos were taken in 1950 and the other was taken in 1974. If the fat guys on both photos are the same person, why does he have no trace of aging?

Instead of looking at the remaining photos, I turned around and asked, "Fatty, what job do you do?"

The fat man was a little angry when he heard this, and spit out the food he was talking about and turned around: "Call me Fatty! Fatty is also worthy of calling you? Why? Fatty, I am a free person now and belong to the nobles at home. Why do you ask this?"

I smiled softly, threw the photo back to him, and said, "I think you probably work in the Internet industry, right?"

The fat man frowned and asked in surprise: "What do you say?"

I pointed to the photos in his hand and said, "Just because you have good pictures, I dare to say that I can't practice them in a few years." In fact, I can't tell whether these photos are true or false. After all, I am just a novelist, not a professional antique master who can identify the authenticity, etc. The reason I say this is to let the fat man show his own strength.

"Oh... Are you playing tricks for Fat Master?" Unexpectedly, Fat Master Wang was a little stunned and saw my purpose. "Boy, Fat Master, I came here just to save you. As for the issue of identity, if you don't believe it, Fat Master, I'll have a hard time explaining it. Okay, now I'm full of food and drink, and it's time to start reviewing the express delivery."

"Wait, why do you say to save me? Is this courier trying to kill me?" I glanced at the courier who was still unconscious on the ground and asked.

"His grandma, I met another innocent fool." The fat man muttered, then turned around and picked up the hand, handed it to me, and asked, "Look at this hand carefully, do you recognize it?"

Although I was a little disgusted, after hearing what he said, I pinched my nose and looked at my broken hand. When I saw it, I could see the clues.

"This. It seems to be Lao Zhu's hand." Lao Zhu mentioned here is actually a writer in the "Global Supernatural Archives" column group. He received an invitation with me to sort out the information. His real name is Zhu Jiaji, and he is one of the famous supernatural writers in the circle. There are three moles on his right hand. According to him, he is the one who will transform into the Monkey King after being selected by God, so he has these three divine moles left. At that time, because the sky was too dark outside, I didn't see clearly. When I suddenly saw these three moles, I realized that this must be Lao Zhu's hand.

"I forgot to ask you, how many writers are there in your book-writing column group?" Fatty Wang asked.

"Why are you asking this? I think it's better to call the police as soon as possible." I was scared. Lao Zhu's hand must have been cut off alive, and he must have been in danger at this time. Although I don't know who he offended, calling the police at this time is probably the only choice.

"The police can't control this matter." said the fat man, and then said mysteriously: "If you are too slapping, the remaining writers will probably be dismembered and sent to you."

As soon as he finished speaking, a knock on the door rang out of the door.
Chapter completed!