Alvin instantly appeared in the address space provided by Trini. As soon as he smelled it, the room was filled with the smell of alcohol.

I looked up and looked around, holy shit, I was really shocked.

The cabinets on the wall are full of guns, guns that appear in exciting battlefields! There are even Gatling and RPGs!

As a veteran player who enjoys stimulating battlefields, Ivan was a little excited and his blood was rising. This old lady has a very strong taste...

I couldn't help but get closer and pick up an M416. This model is so realistic and feels so good in the hand, but the weight is much heavier than in the exciting battlefield.

This wall full of firearms models was simply his dream. Unfortunately, the 1:1 models were too expensive and he disliked the plastic ones, so in the end he couldn't do it.

Bang, bang, there was a sudden noise behind the desk behind him, and Alvin turned around suddenly.

But it was Trini, wearing a silk suspender nightgown, barefoot, looking like a drunkard staring in confusion and unable to stand, and pushed at him with both hands: "Don't move!"

As he spoke, his body swayed again, and then Alvin noticed that he turned around and was pointing his gun at her.

"Oh," Alvin weighed the gun in his hand a little reluctantly and prepared to put it back.

"Take care of it, this is a real gun, don't misfire. Uh..." Trini burped and said, "Why did you come to my house..." She fell to the ground with a plop.

Alvin still had her last sentence in her mind, real gun!

Real guns are presented concretely in the virtual world!

"With a real gun, if I shoot at you, what will happen in the virtual world? There won't be any reaction, after all, it's just a simulated appearance data."

Trini sat on the ground with her arms propped up, tilting her head:

"Are you stupid? If a bullet hits me, the brain-computer interface will also generate data. Under the stimulation of the corresponding micro-current information, the brain will think that I have really been hit.

The virtual world has physical rules, and the pain I felt after being shot was the same.

If your brain is more fragile and does not receive information about the true state of your body in time, it will really think that you have been shot, and it may even kill you directly with a life-saving first aid operation. Do you want to try it!"

With that said, Trini took out a spray gun from under the desk: "This gun, if shot in the head, will make your brain think that you are dead. Do you want to feel it?"

"No, no, no!" Ivan quickly put down the gun. He couldn't communicate normally with the drunk. If he went crazy and shot, he didn't want to experience the pain of a headshot.

Trini held the gun with one hand and picked up the wine bottle with the other hand and took another sip: "Why are you at my house?"

"Didn't you send me the address via email and ask me to come?"

Trini put down the gun and the wine bottle, and patted her face with both hands: "I guess I sent it to the wrong person. I sent it to the housekeeper and asked him to clean up the house, eh."

Alvin...

I'm ready to lick it...

No, everyone is here. I need to catch her and ask her about the brain-computer interface. This will save her from having to deal with me in the future and not give me any support.

Glancing at the guns all over the wall, he was curious about another thing before asking the serious question: "Why do you have so many real guns?"

Trini looked at him with a look that looked like he was mentally retarded: "In the state of Troy, it is legal to carry guns." She raised an eyebrow and said, "And, Dad, I'm very rich."

It turns out that Trini lives in Troy, which is not very far from him. It’s a two-hour flight? It’s so cool to have money!

"Why don't you leave?" Trini tried to stand up, but failed. She blinked and a sofa appeared behind her, and she climbed on it.

"I just want to ask about the brain-computer interface again. I just sent you an email to ask, but your reply still makes me not understand."

"Oh, but Tuesday is drinking day, I don't work." Trini was lying on the sofa, her legs on her hands, rocking up and down, and a bottle of wine that had just appeared in her arms.

"Why is Tuesday a drinking day?" Alvin was a little curious.

"I was drunk on Tuesday, hung over on Wednesday, woke up on Thursday, and then worked for two more days and the week was over." Give him a look to see if you are stupid.

It turns out that this is the life of rich people. They only work three days a week. Alvin is a little envious.
Chapter completed!