On the morning of June 20th, an apartment building in Paris.
A black man in his forties walked out of the house. Like every morning, he went to the first floor to check his mailbox, took out the newspaper, threw away the junk flyers, and got ready to go to work.
But today is a little different. He saw a yellowed envelope in the mailbox. There was no stamp or address on the envelope, only his name: Gallas Dadan.
He clamped the morning paper under his arm, and while walking outside, he opened the envelope. Gallas felt that this should be another advertiser’s trick. Recently, many insurance companies will post some “invitation letters” in a decent manner. “When you come to your door, you are actually asked to participate in a symposium with the same content and sales meeting, provide some worthless gifts, and then try your best to sell the insurance to you.
“I don’t even have a stamp. It seems that someone has been asked to stuff it into the mailbox this time, and the postage has been saved.” Gallas muttered and opened the envelope. He took out a slightly yellowed letter paper. At this moment, he found that there were other things in the envelope. He took a closer look. The things were about a centimeter long, and the surface was light yellow-white, oval, and clearly orange. nuclear.
“Asshole, this is really disgusting, because the insurance company’s employee in charge of delivering the letter feels dissatisfied. Did he throw the orange nucleus in it?” Gallas threw the envelope away, and the hand holding the letter only touched the paper with his index finger and thumb, as if The letter paper is not clean.
Using two fingers in each of his hands, he carefully unfolded the letter paper, and found that there was a paragraph written on it: “Hello, Galas Dadan, this is our first greeting to you, and it may be the last time, you black The ghost has violated the bottom line of our tolerance, and this letter means death. kkk.”
Gallas was stunned immediately, until the buzzing of the car horn and the roa