【Shadou】Alternative of the same kind

"Mescetti...Miss Mescetti, are you home?"

The red-haired boy got up very early today, he just wanted to confirm whether the necklace Mescetti wore yesterday was his own agate.

But after thinking about it, even if she stole it, would she really admit it?

Salaman had imagined the best ending—she didn't know it was his, and picked it up for her own use.But all this is obviously not true.

If she picked it up, if she really didn't know it, why did she dodge when she saw her?

In that case, all kinds of assumptions can be completely negated, and when a domino is toppled, they will flap in an orderly manner like the wings of a bird, and merge in one direction.

In this way, all the assumptions that Salaman justified for Mescetti were overthrown and destroyed.

Of course there is another situation - do not start from scratch.

He leaves the first domino, which is the worst-case scenario:

She's a liar, and Mescetti knew from the beginning that it was his, but she took his onyx and was labeled "belonging to Mescetti" thinking that would make it right. It should belong to itself.

It made sense, everything made sense—why she was dressed differently than usual, why red nail polish was wrongly paired with green earrings, why she forgave herself so easily when she bumped into her, why she had to Covering her chest, why did she run away?

Liar, there are many liars in this dark society, but one of them happened to act as a thief and took part-time job as a temporary "good sister", but she never forgot her job—she was a liar.

Salaman wanted to know why no one answered the door, but he suddenly lost interest.

It doesn't matter anymore.

The thing to do now is to play the role of his own student. It's time for him to go to school.

Wait, what does "acting" mean?

Salaman questioned himself in his heart, he wanted to dissect himself, if he could do it, he would definitely try, because he wanted to know, he wanted an answer.

"The latest case happened just yesterday." Yunyang rarely smiled today, he was so serious that he was about to vomit, damn it, he really saw that corpse.

"The deceased was a woman, and there was no trace of resistance. She died in a street where children should not go, but I think you also know something, for example, those places are messy, and the deceased should be active in it. It is not easy to verify her identity."

He covered his eyes with his hands, as if if he didn't do so, the miserable dead body would expand in front of his eyes-the neck injury was terrible, and the shrunken vocal cords fell aside, and the blood condensed wrapped it in the middle, looking like It's precious amber, the kind that encases insects in it.

When he saw the corpse, he felt a little awkward. His long black hair was messy, and part of the thick long hair was stuck together by blood clots. What was so awkward... He continued to look at the corpse, revealing clothing, and cleavage could be seen faintly , oh wait, this is the front, it's the front.

Wait, those hairs.

Damn, the corpse's head...was twisted off in such a brutal way, what he saw was not a face with hair accessories spread out, what he saw was the back of the head, and the poor woman's eyes were directly on the ground.

Like a penitent, the head of the penitent is turned 180 degrees, which is the maximum angle of confession.

Ahhh, stop thinking about it.

"enough!!"

The children were chattering a lot just now, but now they are all quiet.

"No, children, I mean, let's talk about something else." He smiled wryly, lowered his head, raised his head again, and put on a sunny smile——

——The skin of pretense, camouflage, and forced disguise.

"Children, don't be afraid. In fact, in these cases, the victims were all older than 20 years old. Don't worry too much. Good kids shouldn't go out at night. Think about those victims. Most of them attended parties or It's going in and out of places that are not popular... But you are different."

There was a reassuring light in his eyes, but in fact he didn't have the confidence to say those words, because there were only a few victims they knew, and who knew how many died?Then it is impossible to know whether the deceased had children.

"If you are still very scared, please go to the third floor of the teaching building on the west side. Psychological counseling is always available, and you can go there for help."

Dang Dang bells rang the entire campus.

"Then, get out of class is over, children."

Yunyang waved his hand, waiting for all the children to leave him before closing the door, this is his responsibility.

Salaman held the key in his pocket tightly, as if it was a novelty gift he just got.

"Salaman, what's in your pocket?"

Nikuta's hand slapped Salaman's shoulder.

"No."

"Hey, why do you speak like that?" Nikuta clenched his fists tightly, and several other people also put on a fight look.

"Students over there, leave quickly, I need to close the door."

"Tsk, it's really annoying."

While they were complaining, Salaman had already left quickly.

"Hey Nikuta, he's already gone." The brown-haired boy interrupted his complaint, "I think we should change our approach this time, that kid's attitude is annoying."

"Haha, you dare to talk like that when you leave school. Being the class monitor really kills your nature."

"It's so funny, if it weren't for my mother being the class leader, I wouldn't be the class monitor, I'm so stupid." He covered his mouth as if he was saying some unspeakable love words.

Salaman didn't choose to leave the school through the side door. He didn't want to dodge. That group of people bullied people for no reason. He didn't want to escape. If possible, he would fight back. But he never did that. Why?have no idea.

He finally stood still.

"You run very fast, you boy." Sapp held a flexible branch in his hand, and the sycamore can always help them. This time, he provided the murder weapon.

"You..." Salaman didn't continue. Nikuta caught him, and the tall Robert clasped his shoulders. The gap is enough to limit Salaman.

"Tell me what's in your pocket?" Sapp pretended to pull a branch out of thin air.

"Nothing at all."

Salaman closed his eyes and didn't look at him. Although his bangs were too long to cover his expression, it was different now. He had to raise his head when Nikuta strangled his neck, and his tight eyes were exposed in the cloudless sky. under the sky.

"We need to teach you a lesson."

As he spoke, he waved the branch.

"Snapped--"

"Snapped--"

The swishing sound of the branches flying into the sky and the sound of slapping Salaman were mixed together. In fact, there was the sound of Salaman gasping, but he deliberately suppressed the sound so that no one could hear it.

"You are very courageous!!"

"Pa—" the last slap hit his cheek, he wanted to break free and cover his left cheek, but he couldn't, he thought he needed strength.

Silence is the best refusal, so he chose to remain silent for the time being. Silent resistance may not be useful to wily planners, but it is enough for a group of impatient students.

"Tsk...you should be thrown to that killer. You can choose to be silent, so that he can save some time when he kills you."

He threw the sticks on the ground and took his fellow criminals away.

Salaman was kneeling on the snow. He didn't feel cold on his knees for the time being, but he felt cold in his heart. If he looked inside, he would find that his heart was a glacier, a glacier that never sees the sun.

He touched his cheek and felt some sticky blood slipping down his fingers. He stretched out his hand to the wild snowy sky, and one drop, two drops... fell on his face and on the ground.

He knew that those people were not interested in what was in their pockets from the very beginning, all they needed was an arbitrary opportunity, an opportunity that would give them an excuse to bully him, that was opportunistic, it was the work of villains.

In a developed country, some people will always have extreme ideas, thinking that they are superior and others should be bullied by themselves, and they deserve it, because they are the ones who bully others.

Then, their brains will subconsciously search for targets. In order to confirm their own ideas, their brains will unintentionally select those who are not a threat to them as experimental subjects, and that person happens to be Salaman.

Salaman was unwilling to fight, he was always silent and chose to endure, which was the best submission in the eyes of those people.

Then they knew that they were really strong and aristocratic, so they could bully others without restraint, and of course they would bully that unlucky Salaman who became the first victim.

He went home, healed his wound, and trotted over to a bakery he frequented to buy some jambalaya crepes—a welcome dessert for his mother when she came home from a business trip.

Then he thought of something, and ordered another salty crepe, but felt that it was not appropriate, so he asked the clerk to put some assorted flavors in it.

He stood at the doorway that made him hesitate again, but this time his heart was not beating as fast as before.

"Bang bang bang—"

"Is anyone home?"

But no one should.

He felt that Sandraar was not at home, and he turned to go back.

"what--!"

"Why are you here?"

Silan Udos stood quietly at the stairs, the moonlight fell on his chiseled face, like a sculpture of Michelangelo, sacred and majestic - but in fact he is not a god, everything is just the opposite .

"What's your business?" Shelan Udos did not answer Salaman's question.

"This is for you." He said as he handed out a dark brown paper bag with a simple bakery pattern on it.

"What is it?" Shelan Udos pointed to the bag.

"Eh? It's...it's a crepe!" Unexpectedly, he thought Sandrall would directly refuse or accept and thank him. Although the possibility of accepting it seemed slim, he didn't expect the person in front of him to ask Problem, because he doesn't think people in France, whether locals or tourists, can't distinguish the taste of crepes.

"I don't know your taste, so I bought two kinds of sweet and salty." He hurriedly stuffed the paper bag into Sandraar's arms, afraid that the other party would say "No, I don't need it."

"No, I don't need to."

It was like a thunderbolt from the blue, even though night had fallen.

"Please accept it, this is a thank you gift."

"You don't need to thank me, I just clarified my innocence."

"Then please take it as my apology."

"You said you were sorry yesterday."

......

Shelan Udos is going to give it back to him.

"No, that's different!"

"What's the difference?"

"It's... I don't know, but it does make a difference."

"What if these things could kill me?"

"You...what did you say?" He looked over in astonishment.

"It's a crepe, and I don't mean to hurt you."

"I don't eat it, it doesn't work for me, and it makes me sick."

"No, please trust me!"

Salaman took a step forward, panting heavily, his mood fluctuated abnormally.

"What happened to your face?"

Shelan Udos noticed the band-aid on his face, which was a little crooked, and a small wound was exposed in front of his eyes, with a bloody and dangerous smell.

"No, it's nothing, just some classmates who love to bully..." Suddenly he covered his mouth.

He didn't want to talk to anyone about being bullied, he didn't even tell his mother, but the person in front of him just asked him to say something embarrassing, which was dangerous, but he felt relieved.

"You're not very skilled in handling it." As he spoke, he moved his face closer, his eyes fixed on the wound, and the red blood under the broken skin could be seen faintly.

He's not hungry, but he has instincts.

"Snapped--"

He suddenly jumped aside and approached the corner in a panic.

"I'm sorry, did I scare you?" The close contact just now made Salaman's reaction a little slow.

"Is it really that bad?" He touched the wound on his face while speaking.

"No, nothing."

Shelan Udos opened the door.

"Salaman, right?"

"Yes!" The other party's voice echoed in Salaman's mind, it was magic, it was a magnet-like attraction.

"It's definitely not a day or two for you to be bullied."

Salaman lowered his head, as if everything was being watched.

"Call back."

"what did you say?!"

"Don't understand? I said call back."

"...Thank you, Monsieur Sandral."

Sandral?Oh yes, that's his "name", this guy exchanged names with himself, although he didn't quite like it.

"You don't need to thank me."

He walked into the house, ready to close the connection with the outside world.

"But do you think I can do it?" He never fought back, he didn't know how abstract and vague the concept of "fighting back" was.

"You can do it, Salaman."

It was dark in the room, but he didn't need to turn on the lights.

He smelled some table salt, and something fruity, sweet muesli, and pancakes being baked.

He forgot to return these items to Salaman.

He went to the kitchen to throw them in the trash.

There was the sound of paper bags colliding with glass.

The crepe was unkindly placed on the kitchen table.

The hot air caused a white mist to form on the glass table top.

------------TBC------------