Ember Gun

  Chapter 312 Rest

Lorenzo doesn't think he will have anything to do with the gentle word "home", but every time he sees the old Dunling again after he is born to death, Lorenzo will feel a so-called "home" kindness. .

  The machine never stops working, the fire in the furnace burns and rises, the heavy rain rushes in the channel, and finally returns to the Thames.

Even this **** rainy season cannot stop the rotation of this society. Umbrellas converge into rivers and run through the streets of the city. Iron snakes are like swimming fish, moving forward with the sound of sirens, or opening in the rush of steam. Countless mermaid jumped out of the car door.

Under the snake system of the atrium, the traffic in the entire city is still running in an orderly manner, but the carriage that symbolizes identity and wealth is ridiculous. Compared with the advanced machinery, it has become backward...actually A few years ago, horse-drawn carriages could be seen everywhere on the streets, but nowadays, with the development of machinery, there are fewer and fewer of them.

  Sometimes people even think that this city is alive. It is growing and changing, just like a big tree, with its own ecosystem, an ecosystem of steel and machinery.

  Lorenzo was standing in the corner of the street, wet and stained with dirty blood.

  Because of the rainy season, the war airships dived one after another, and the main force of urban security supervision became the mounted police. They braved the heavy rain and marched on the streets.

Judging from the current complicated situation, Lorenzo did not want to disturb anyone, and he just escaped from the dead. Lorenzo now only hopes to return to 121A Cork Street safely and sleep well on the big bed he is familiar with. Sleep.

  The clothes are in tatters, and without an umbrella, he may be regarded as a stranger who sneaked in from Xiacheng District.

  Lorenzo thought this way, and then approached the street. He was thinking about whether to rob a passerby's umbrella and clothes. He was just about to do it, and then he saw a familiar face.

  ……

The man walked slowly on the street under an umbrella. After coming out of the grief of divorce, he slowly discovered the joy of life. He could sleep in the living room, in the kitchen, and fool around all day. You can also get yourself drunk in the toilet.

  He is extremely free. For a moment, he felt that the first half of his life was simply living under bondage, and he had to look forward to everything he did, and he had to take into account the thoughts of others.

  Now he feels great. There is wine in his bag, and even the damp vapor has become mild.

  Life is really good, until he saw a tramp-like guy appeared in front of him, he couldn't see him a little bit, but as he approached, his face gradually became frightened.

Looking around, he tried to find a place to dodge, but he was still too slow and was about to move. One hand grabbed his umbrella handle, and the two rode together under the same umbrella. Just like a pair of close friends.

  "Long time no see! Director Buscarlo!"

Looking at that nasty expression and sniffing the **** smell close at hand, Buscarlo’s expression was as uncomfortable as eating a fly, but the hard part of life is here, obviously this guy in front of him is extremely annoying. But Buscalo had to show the look of an old friend.

   "Ok... long time no see, Mr. Holmes."

  ……

  147 Hammering Street.

  Lorenzo took off his damp clothes and wore the clothes Buscarlo handed him. It may be a difference in size. Lorenzo felt like he was wearing a nightgown in his clothes.

Buscalo’s home is very large. Before he and his wife and a daughter lived here, but after the divorce, his wife left with her daughter, and only Buscalo was left in this empty room. .

Lorenzo still remembers the scene here when he "illegal invaded" last time. The house was very tidy, everything was in order, full of the sense of life, but now wine bottles are rolling on the ground, clothes and sundries are piled up on the ground, in some corners. There is also a **** of sour smell inside, as if there are some savages living here.

  Buscalo sat on the messy sofa, took out the bought wine from the bag, and did not pay attention to any sense of ceremony, biting the stopper and blowing on the bottle, Lorenzo couldn't help but admire him.

  One of the reasons Lorenzo doesn’t like to make friends is that he has secret blood on his body, and this forbidden secret blood will attract evil things.

  This point is also explained in Shermans' notes, Shermans calls this situation "phototaxis".

  In the endless darkness, Lorenzo, who was carrying the secret blood, was like a spot of light, attracting the moths in the darkness. They marched toward the fireworks and swarmed.

Because of this "phototaxis", all evil spirits will approach Lorenzo, and Lorenzo will also involuntarily approach them, and this will more or less affect the people around him. Lorenzo does not want innocent people to suffer from this. , So unless necessary, he will always be alone.

  But something unexpected happened.

Sometimes Lorenzo can't help but wonder whether there is such a thing as "destiny" in this world, whether it is because of Lorenzo's initial intersection with Buscarlo, which led to seeing him again on the train of death. To him, and this influence has continued to the present.

  But who can tell this kind of thing clearly?

   "Would you like a drink?"

  Buscalo shouted suddenly. He looked at Lorenzo who was leaning on the window sill and raised the bottle.

   "Drink so much during the day?"

  "One is to want to drink, and the other is to be bold."

As Buscarlo said, he glanced at Lorenzo, then at the weapon against the wall, with dangerous arcs glowing on it. After Lorenzo’s neuroticism aside, in Buscarlo’s eyes, Lorenzo Renzo is positioned as an urban murderer.

  Now that an unarmed doctor and a murderer are alone in a room, Lorenzo also understands that he has grown courageously drinking.

  Lorenzo just wanted to find a place to rest. He had just gone through such a fierce battle and had that explosive knowledge.

Even now, the strange feeling of anxiety is still so real, as if a monster with a hundred eyes is staring at him where Lorenzo can't see, and countless eyeballs follow Lorenzo. Moving and turning, grinding teeth and sucking blood, preparing for the chance to kill with one blow.

  This is really exhausting, exhausting.

  Lorenzo thought that killing Lawrence would be able to complete the revenge of the Holy Night, but as he explored the past, he found that all this was far less simple than he thought.

  No matter how much firewood he adds to the fire, it is difficult to illuminate this unfathomable darkness.

   "Will they come back?"

  Lorenzo tried to relax, then said to Buscalo.

"Who?"

  Buscarlo was a little drunk, obviously didn't understand Lorenzo's meaning.

   "Your wife, and your daughter." Lorenzo said.

   "Last time I came, you were at least cleaning the room. After all, they would be angry if they came back to see this mess, but now you..."

  Lorenzo did not continue to say that they will not come back, so Buscarlo doesn’t care about these things anymore. The house is messy, saying it’s free, but in fact it is also indulgence.

   "Mr. Holmes, this is marriage."

  Buscalo didn't feel the slightest sadness, but looked at Lorenzo with wide-eyed eyes.

"Well, I was actually quite sad at the beginning. Even though I was tired of watching my wife, I still love my daughter... But then I got used to it. I found the feeling of being a young man again, happy. no."

  Lorenzo seemed to be worrying too much, and as Buscarlo spoke, he sang and danced with his wine bottle.

No matter before or now, Buscalo was quite afraid of Lorenzo. After all, they were terrible from the beginning of their encounter, but just like Lorenzo was accustomed to demons, Buscalo was also accustomed to Lorenzo. Anyway, I can't resist, it is better to have fun as soon as possible.

   "Wait, are you unemployed?"

  Lorenzo saw the bills on the ground, piles after piles.

   "Oh... this! There is no other way. Excessive indulgence can be a bit bad, such as forgetting to go to work."

  Buscalo spoke and lost his voice. He didn't know if he didn't want to face Lorenzo or why, he got drunk and fell asleep on the ground.

  This feeling is like "I'm asleep, what do you like to do, as long as I wake up and you are not here".

  Lorenzo's expression is complicated. It seems that everyone is a bit nervous, but everyone rarely reveals this.

Carrying Buscalo back to his bedroom, Lorenzo sat on the sofa in the living room alone, facing the mess in the room. Of course, he didn't have any idea of ​​helping Buscalo clean up the room, but instead Shermans's notes were placed on the table with serious eyes.

Although there is no evidence to directly prove the "curse of knowledge", Lorenzo can clearly feel the sense of anxiety. If it weren't for these scruples, Lorenzo might rush to the pump of perpetual motion now and tell these things. Merlin.

  But he can’t do it. Maybe he has some special features to avoid the “curse of knowledge”, but he doesn’t dare whether Merlin will really be cursed.

  Shermans died for this knowledge, and there may be more people in history who have died because of it.

Lorenzo also vaguely understood why the knowledge of the evangelical church has an obvious sense of generation. At some time in the past, some people knew about this, but because of the curse, they were all dead. Maybe someone was like Lorenzo. In this way, the curse can be avoided or postponed, but it will also become his exclusive knowledge.

  This knowledge cannot be told to others, otherwise the weird curse will also spread.

   seems to be an invisible high wall, human beings are trapped in the high wall, and remain ignorant forever.

  ……

The feeling of being drunk is really bad, the brain is dizzy, and the whole body hurts. It feels like I was beaten by someone, and I got up from the bed with great effort. Buscarlo sat on the edge of the bed and looked out the window. .

  The sky is getting dark, the street lights are on, and the rumbling iron snakes shuttle tirelessly through the city, with people coming and going.

  This feeling is really bad. Not only is it drunk, but also when I wake up alone.

  The dim room was full of alcohol and sour smell, and I seemed to be living in a beast’s lair.

Freedom is real happiness, but after excessive joy, there is loneliness and emptiness. Although Buscarlo himself does not want to see his wife, he does miss his daughter very much. Her mother took her back to her hometown. The town is not shrouded by the splendor of science and technology, and communication depends entirely on letters.

  He couldn't hear her voice, nor could he see her face. Thinking like this, Buscarlo wanted to pick up the bottle and swig again, but only then realized that there was no wine.

  Maybe this is the life of a middle-aged divorced old man. Buscalo was in a daze until a little voice sounded in the living room.

  A thief?

  Buscarlo didn’t care about it anymore, anyway, there was nothing valuable in the house, but his gaze became horrified, and as he sobered up, he gradually remembered what happened before he was drunk.

   Slowly opened the door, only to see the **** face, looking at himself kindly.

   "Are you awake? Thank you for staying."

  Lorenzo put on his clothes, neat and tidy, dressed himself very ordinary, no one can tell that this seemingly ordinary guy is a murderer on the street.

  Buscarlo recognized that it was his clothes. Because of the wrong size, Lorenzo looked bloated in his generous clothes.

"you are leaving?"

  Buskalo calmed down and asked.

  Lorenzo nodded, he didn't do anything to hide, and in front of Buscarlo, he hid the deadly weapons under his coat.

   "You...really dedicated to your work. You have to go out to work most of the night."

   "Midnight?"

  Lorenzo was taken aback, then pointed to the clock.

   "It's already the next day, and it's about to dawn."

   "This..." Buscalo covered his head. He didn't expect that he had slept for so long. He was a little flustered, but then he remembered that he had resigned, so why were he so flustered.

  The whole person slumped on the sofa again, seemingly ready to go back to sleep.

   "Mr. Lorenzo Holmes."

  He suddenly stopped Lorenzo, who was about to leave. Lorenzo turned his head and saw Buscalo get up from the sofa and said to himself with a serious face.

   "Don't get married."

"what?"

Lorenzo didn’t know if Buscalo was not awake, or he was drunk too much, he didn’t want to explain any more, he lay down holding the only picture taken in the family after he said this. The snoring sound rang again.

  Here is just a short rest. If Lorenzo stays for a long time, it may cause some trouble. Seeing that there is nothing wrong with Buscalo, Lorenzo left directly.

  The life of a demon hunter is always like this, constantly running around to meet one trouble after another.

Lorenzo didn’t have a rest. After Saint’s Night, he came to Old Dunling and became a detective with a special style. He lived a fairly peaceful life, but the long-term peace made him sometimes forget. No matter what he was originally, when all the sinfulness found himself again, all this seemed so strange again.

  The sky was still gloomy, and cold raindrops fell from time to time in the sky, stopping briefly on the street, and then Lorenzo thought about his next destination.

  (End of this chapter)