Origin of all things Arkham

Chapter 17

Outside the window, there were people on their backs, gunshots and screams everywhere, but inside the house was another scene of tranquility and peace.

The old desk lamp on the table gave off a warm yellow soft light, not very bright, but it properly took care of the sight range of the entire table.

Sitting behind the table, His Excellency Falco, already grizzled, half held a glass of aged tequila in his hand.In the smog, a gray-red fire was faintly lit, and the old man was enjoying a top-quality cigar.

"This is the last one, um... the taste is not very good anymore."

That's the case, but Falcone didn't put down the cigar, but raised his hand to drink up the wine in the glass and put the glass on the table. There was a crisp sound of ice cubes hitting, and he stretched out his hand to pull it away. from a drawer, and took out a brass-colored revolver.

"I really miss it."

There is a line of names engraved on the handle of the revolver, but the light is dim and it is already hard to see clearly.

Reaching out to grab it, the same brass-colored bullets fell on the table, rolled around, and hit the glass cup, making a nice sound.

Slightly squinting his eyes, the old Falcone filled the revolver with bullets one by one, shook his hand to return the magazine to the right position, moved the firing pin, leaned on the velvet wooden chair behind him, sighed softly, and lifted the The hand holding the gun quietly pointed in the direction of the door.

The flames flickered, constantly casting changing shadows on old Falcone's face.

"gentlemen!"

The door was pushed open, and Falcone's butler came in: "We need to get out of this..."

boom!
The bullet hit the doorjamb by the butler's ear, sending sawdust flying and stinging his face.

"gentlemen……"

"Get out, Monroe."

"Can……"

"Monroe."

"...Yes, sir. Your will is everything."

The butler held the half-length salute, stepped back behind him, stretched out his hand to grab the doorknob, and slowly closed it.

In the gradually narrowing sight, the butler discovered for the first time that the master he had served for 30 years was already so old.

He couldn't even sit upright anymore.

click.The door closed again.

Falcone changed to a comfortable position and sat back on the backrest, still quietly pointing the gun at the door, waiting for something quietly.

..........................................

The noise and the flames have ceased to appear.

When did it happen, 1 minute? 10 minutes?

Falcone was a little dazed.

There was a twitch of the finger, and the ashes of the spent cigar fell on the carpet like a small chimney.

"It's a pity, I haven't seen cigar ash in such a good shape for a long time."

The old man was alone and muttered something to himself.

At this moment, Falcone suddenly felt that the overly quiet house made it seem that too big a house is not good.

Just like now, when there is no sound at all, the emptiness is a bit permeating.

"Heh, it's better to have some voices."

In the corridor outside the door, a faint singing voice suddenly sounded, ethereal and terrifying.

“OH my darling oh my darling~”

“oh my darling clementine~”

“You were lost and gone forever~”

“dreadful sorry clementine~~”

Then, the singing stopped abruptly.

Clang, clang, clang.

Someone is knocking on the door.

Falcone's temples were beating and jumping extremely fast, his nostrils were flaring, his pupils were dilated, and a thin layer of cold sweat emerged from his palms.

Trembling, he poured himself another glass of wine, grabbed the glass and drank it like a cow.

Maybe it was the effect of alcohol, maybe Falcone figured something out, he regained his composure, and said in the most majestic words possible: "Please, please come in."

There was a creaking sound, and the door was slowly pushed open.

Bang bang bang bang!
The moment he saw the pitch-black figure at the door, Falcone frantically pulled the trigger, firing all the remaining bullets in the pistol.

"Ah, old man, it really is such an operation."

Falcone opened five bloodless holes in the captain of the unlucky ghost dragged by Lynn.

Throwing the squad leader who died again casually on the ground, Falcone finally saw who his enemy was and what he looked like.

"Hello. Hey, don't be like this."

Panicked people always have difficulty suppressing the trembling of their fingers, and Falcone now finds that his fingers can't put the bullets into the gun.

Suddenly it went dark, and for a moment, Falcone felt the wind.

Afterwards, he was knocked to the ground by Lin En who rushed up with a chain hammer.

"Ouch, old man, it's getting cooler on the ground."

Holding Falcone's arms, Lynn piled the bloody old man on the seat again, and kindly helped him straighten his bow tie.

Look, this is a big shot, no matter what time it is, it is a standard aristocratic attitude to be neatly dressed.

"Gotham..."

"What did you say?"

Lynn originally wanted to do it directly, but now he was curious about what the dying old man wanted to say.

"Hehe, what a long piece of soot, this thing is good for stopping bleeding."

After tearing off the silk scarf embroidered with gold silk on the chest of Falcone's suit jacket, Lynn smeared soot on the old man's forehead, tied it with a handkerchief, and the first aid treatment was completed.

"The wine is good, now, let's talk."

Lin En held another wine glass that was not spattered with blood, leaned on one side and propped it on the thick solid wood table, and calmly raised his glass to the old man.

"..."

"What? Can't hear clearly."

"........."

"install?"

"........."

Snapped!
"You fucking left your vocal cords at home! Oh, I'm sorry, this is your home, I forgot, look, this shouldn't be..."

He helped the old man up from the ground again and piled it on the chair. Lynn had no ash this time.

Fortunately, Falcone's bed curtains are fine.

"Then what, you...continue?"

"Ho... ho... You, you can't end the crimes in Gotham, you are the same person as me, in this Gotham, there are deeper crimes, they will confuse you, pull your neck the ropes that lead you into the deep water, you..."

"Can you speak Chinese, no, at least to be clear, you're almost dead, and you're still doing this, old gentleman."

Lynn didn't make a fuss, and even wanted to have another drink.

He did turn around quickly and poured another glass of wine. His indifference made Falcone, who was bleeding from the top of his head, feel more pain than his body.

"You, you don't know anything!"

"Okay, I know. I really, really know."

Lin En suddenly pulled a chair and sat beside the old man with a blank expression, and imitated him and leaned back on the chair.

"It's nothing more than some power and money transactions, people with superpowers, a secret and ancient family...

Honestly, you people have no idea what the real danger is.

The farmer next door suddenly recognizes his relatives at some point, and he may not know when to change into black underpants.

Farther away, there is someone who restarts the world at every turn, which is difficult to deal with...

The friends are all like this, those in the sea, those of the Protoss, those who jump around the timeline...

Even further away, you don’t even know about the enemy’s. That thing almost turned over the earth when it was only eight years old. Do you think I can’t be afraid.

I just want to live, it's hard...

Old man, do you think it's easy for me, you...

old man?
Fuck, dead.

You are so happy to die.

Ugh……"

In the quiet study room, Lynn was leaning on a chair next to a dead old man, sighing and drinking wine alone.

"Tsk... this thing is quite delicious, let's have another drink.

Whoops?This is also very good, let's have another drink.

Oops, this one too...

Whoops...! "

(End of this chapter)