A smell of moist together with rancidness made him wake up.

His eyelids twitched twice, and suddenly, his eyes opened, revealing a pair of eyes that seemed to be drunk, as if covered with a layer of mist.

"I am not dead yet?"

Jason clearly remembered that his information had been public disclosed, and people from Freemasons traced and found him. He then engaged in a fight with the elites from Freemasons. Facing numerous enemies, he killed dozens of them by himself and succeeded fled to the Calais dock.

But when he boarded the yacht and thought he finally got rid of the chase, the yacht exploded.

The people of Freemasons had already checked everything about him and installed a bomb on his yacht.

When he sank into the sea, he saw the burning fire on the surface of the water, and felt the cold water constantly invade his body, but his instinct to survive caused him to wave his arms desperately, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not float up. He saw that only half of his arms were left, and even the broken bone was exposed.

His eyes rolled, looking around.

Now, he was in a narrow alley, beside him, there was a garbage dump, and the disgusting rancid smell came exactly from the garbage dump.

He wanted to get up, but as soon as he exerted his strength, he felt a serious pain in the back of his head.

He narrowed his eyes, biting his teeth tightly, so that he wouldn't yell out.

He didn't know where he was right now, or whether the people of Freemasons were nearby. He didn't dare to say anything.

He closed his eyes and rested for a while. Feeling that the back of his head was not so painful, he sat on the ground with his elbows leaning on the ground.

Suddenly, as if he realized something, he raised his hands and put them in front of his eyes.

This was a pair of white and fat hands, but by no means his hands.

Compared with his hands, this was more like his hands which had been soaked in sea water for more than ten days.

But he clearly remembered that at the moment he was blown off, his arms had been broken.

This was not my hand, what happened to me?

He supported the wall by his hand and stood up tremblingly, with another severe pain in the back of his head.

He touched his head subconsciously, feeling that his palm was sticky. He put down his palm and looked at it, and found that his palm was full of blood.

He was puzzled for a moment, and then he looked down again. The clothes were not his, the shoes were not his, and even this body was not his.

Because he was not so short, and not so fat.

He was a man known for his calmness, but at this time, there was still a little chill in his heart.

He leaned on the wall and closed his eyes in pain. It seemed that his brain was about to explode. He raised his hands and rubbed his temples gently for a while. His head was no longer so painful, and he stumbled out of the alley.

Outside the small alley was a spacious street.

At dawn, cars and pedestrians were scarce on the streets.

He looked to the left and right, frowning.

This was not France in where he was, not Calais. In Calais, there was no such a wide street, nor such a Chinatown

Seeing a billboard by the road, he walked quickly.

Standing in front of the billboard, he closed his eyes and took three deep breaths before slowly raising his eyes.

The glass surface of the billboard was like a mirror, reflecting his figure on it.

With only one glance, his eyes immediately fell again, and then he raised his hands and rubbed his eyes vigorously, and looked again. As before, the appearance reflected on the glass surface did not change at all.

It was a 16-year-old boy. His facial features were difficult to describe in words. His head was round and his body was round. Generously speaking, his figure looked as if a small ball installed on top of a big ball.

Because of too much fat on the face, even the facial features were squeezed so that they could not be seen clearly. And the large, round white face was covered with red dot-shaped acne.

He wore sportswear and it was very loose. His cuffs had to be pulled up a lot to reveal his hands. As for the trouser, it was already long enough to drag the floor.

In his whole life, he had experienced countless great sufferings and difficulties, and also experienced many strange things. But waking up and finding himself suddenly become another person, this kind of strange things, he really had not experienced. He had never seen and never heard in his whole life, and it also made him feel creepy.

Just as he stood in a daze in front of the advertising board, still in extreme shock and confusion, an aunt who was a cleaner in an orange waistcoat, walked past him and squinted at him from time to time.

He reacted suddenly, three steps into two steps, he caught up with the cleaner, and asked, "Excuse me, is this China?" He used perfect Chinese.

Perhaps apart from China, there were no such Chinese-style streets in the world.

The cleaner looked at him with a weird look, as if she was looking at a mental patient.

"If it isn't China, what is it? America?"

"Which city is it of China?"

"F City!"

F City! He had heard about it. It was a city in northeast China. While he was still confused about the situation, why he was here and why he became like this.

He couldn't help rubbing his increasingly painful brain, muttering, "What the hell is going on?"

boom!

Suddenly, there seemed to be a bomb exploding in his head. Sections of pictures appeared in his head. The amount of information was so large that he couldn't help crouching down, holding his head with both hands, sobbing in a low voice.

These flashing pictures had nothing to do with him, to be precise, these were a short memory of a strange young man.

The teenager's name was Wu Jinhuan, a Chinese from F city, 17 years old this year, attending the 11th middle school in F city.

The father of Wu Jinhuan named Wu Ming who was a soldier. When he was very young, his father died on duty. It can be said that he had very little memory of his father. Most of his memories were about his mother.

Perhaps it was because he had no father since he was a child. His mother was particularly fond of him, preferring to do two jobs a day to let him have meat and fish every day.

The reason why Wu Jinhuan was so obese was also directly related to his mother's spoiling.

Although his father was a martyr, Wu Jinhuan did not inherit his father's merits. He began to be reluctant to go to school when he was in junior high school. It was normal for him to skip classes.

After graduating from junior high school, he finally went to high school by using connections. But after that, he became more and more intensified, often not going to school for two or three days, and fooling around with the bullies outside the school all the time.

The reason why he fainted in the small alley this time was because he participated in two rounds of fights with the youngsters last night. As a result, he was hit by a sap and was stunned.

It was ridiculous that he was comatose all the night in the small alley, but until dawn, none of his so-called buddies and brothers came to find him, and even no one took him to the hospital.

As a result, when he opened his eyes again, Wu Jinhuan was no longer that Wu Jinhuan, but became him.

"Kid, are you ... are you okay?"

He didn't know how long had passed, and the sound of concern in his ear woke him up.

He slowly lowered his hands from his head, and his blurred eyes looked at the cleaner who was standing beside him.

He was sober now, but his eyes just gave people a feeling of being drunk.

Looking at his watery, misty eyes, even the aunt who was already old was a little lost, she stuttered and said: "Kid, your head had been hurt, and there is a lot of blood ......"

Just hit by a sap, in the past, he might not even blink his eyes. But Wu Jinhuan was killed by this sap, and he was reborn into his body.

He was not an ordinary person. Walking on the verge of life and death all the year round, he had already practiced the ability to remain calm no matter what happened.

Although such a thing as borrowing a corpse to resurrect was very strange, that no common person could think of it, but since it really happened to him, he was not too repulsive. He just couldn't understand how this strange thing happened to him.

But no matter what step it took, it would not be worse than death.

As a person who had already died once, as long as he could live, as long as he could breathe, it was already a great luck.

If the end of death was a new beginning, then his was really earned.

He stood up slowly, smiled at the cleaner, and said, "I'm fine, just fell off, and my head hurt."

"You'd better go to the hospital to check, head injury is not a trivial matter!" The cleaner kindly advised.

"I will." Jason, no, he was no longer Jason, he had a new name, a new identity, Wu Jinhuan, the eleventh middle school student who was about to enter the senior year.

Suddenly, he had the urge to laugh towards the sky. No matter how omnipotent the people of Freemasons were, it would be impossible for them to count out that he would be born again on a young man's body after his death.

He patted the top of his head and said, "I was a little dazed just now, but it is much better now. Auntie doesn't have to worry about me."

The cleaner carefully looked at him again and confirmed that he was fine, then she pushed the trolley full of cleaning tools away.

Watching her go away, Wu Jinhuan retreated back to the billboard and looked at the chubby figure reflected in it. He narrowed his eyes slightly and said, "Wu Jinhuan, in the future, I will help you complete your life!"

After a while, he slowly moved closer to the glass surface of the billboard and observed his eyes at close range.

His eyelashes were long, the eyes were thin, the corners of the eyes were slightly curved, and the shape looked like a peach blossom petal. There were much black in his eyes than white, and the black and white were not clear, sparking and foggy, giving people a sense of blur and mystery.

Now he finally understood why the cleaner just stared at his eyes in a daze. Even for himself, if he looked at his eyes in the mirror, he would be a little stunned.

After a long while, he slowly spit out: "What a pair of peach eyes."

A person, if he had a pair of peach blossom eyes, even if his appearance was ordinary, it would be very tempting.

It was a pity that Wu Jinhuan was too fat. The fat on his face almost squeezed his eyes into a slit.

The peach blossom eyes on his face only made him look lustful and obscene.

He lowered his head, looked at his figure, and pouted in disgust.

The fat of this body made him feel as if he was wearing a set of armor which weighing hundreds of pounds. Even when he was just standing, he felt chest tightness.

He couldn't stand such a body for a day, and he must to get rid of this fat.

He raised his hand and touched the back of his head again. There were still some blood stains on his back. In the past, he wouldn't care. But his body was too weak. If he didn't deal with it, he worried that he would bleed to death.

Wu Jinhuan turned over his pockets and finally found only two coins of one yuan and one coin of half yuan.

Even if he didn't return to China for some years, and didn't know much about the current situation in China, he wouldn't be stupid enough to think that these two cents were enough for him to bandage the wound in the hospital.

He planned to go home first and take care of it by himself.

It was not too close to Wu Jinhuan's home, but not far away. With the memory left in his brain, he walked for half an hour and walked to a residential area.

The buildings in this residential area had been around for a few years, and many buildings had peeled off their walls and looked grayish.

The ground was uneven, and there were many puddles. Because of the hot weather, and the water remained on the ground, the air emitted an unpleasant smell.

Wu Jinhuan sighed secretly. He had already been accustomed to the life of a nobleman, but now he had to live in such a place. He couldn't adjust at once.

He had been a baby soldier, a mercenary, a killer, and finally an intermediary. He had a lot of savings. Only taking out a little would be enough for him to comfortably live through the rest of his life.

But now, he couldn't get a penny out of it. He could tell without investigating, that the bank accounts under his name had already been monitored, and with a little movement, his enemy could trace him and find him.

For him at the present, there was no room to resist.

Thinking of the enemies, he naturally thought of his broken body, thought of him sinking into the sea and drowning alive, and he clenched his fists subconsciously.