disqualified hero

April 7

21: 00pm

Shuji Tsushima definitely looked at Fyodor, he was dressed differently from everyone else present, not to mention Tatsuhiko Shibusawa, he was wearing a white tuxedo, and only the vest that bound his shirt was black; Shuji Tsushima was just the opposite Osamu Dazai never restricted his dress, but he fell in love with the British style dress without a teacher. The coat, bow tie, shorts, and leather shoes are all black, only the shirt is white; Nakahara also wears his slum dress One set, ordinary narrow jacket, ordinary narrow jeans, there are too many people who have similar clothes with him in the crowd, and he is unique on the boat. Some people call him a "wild child" to satirize his common people wearing.

But compared with Fyodor, Zhongyuanzhong is also much better.

When you look at Fyodor, the first impression in your mind is "unhealthy". His bones are slender and his skin is too pale. Looking at his whole body, he is not only skinny, but also sick.The clothes on his body, I don’t know if they are prison uniforms or hospital uniforms, the bottom is white, with light blue thick stripes, the clothes are too big, not suitable for the child’s size, and they are empty on him, like a skeleton supporting a large body trench coat.Steel shackles bound his wrists and ankles. They are cold and erotic. People with special hobbies will like this scene. His limbs are too slender, and his wrists can be broken with a light bend. Shuji Tsushima thought of it In some scenes, the wings of a bird soaring in the sky are hit by a slingshot, and the wings are wrinkled in pain, and then fall from the clear and empty sky, like a meteor falling into the world.

Shibusawa Tatsuhiko did not speak, he looked at Fyodor with eyes full of interest, and said, "Yes." This person has a slightly self-centered habit, so he does not take other people's thoughts into consideration.

Shuji Tsushima also smiled, but he didn't speak.

Besides the two of them, there was an adult on the table, who had been ignored by everyone.

Nakahara Nakaya watched from a distance. He originally wanted to leave directly, but after Fyodor entered the hall, the situation changed subtly. People in the casino paid attention to the weird table from the corner of their eyes, and people whispered, Whispering.

[Hey, what's going on? ] Zhongyuan Zhong also thought, [Are his shackles a decoration? ] He squinted his eyes for a while and felt that it didn't look like it. There was a long chain on the lower end of the shackles. There was a flat break at one end of the chain, and they were cut off with a sharp knife.

The rebar is solid, too heavy for skinny kids.

"What's going on at that table?" He happened to be surrounded by rich men who were friends with each other, and they were talking about Shuji Tsushima and the others. Nakahara Chuya had very good hearing, so he listened.

"Shibusawa Tatsuhiko, don't you know him?" One of them whispered, "I heard that he is a national treasure and possesses extraordinary abilities. He is well-known among collectors and likes to collect rare treasures."

"Nikaido said he was engaged in military industry."

"Of course I know Nikaido, and I didn't ask him to introduce him." The other person said in a low voice, "I'm talking about those two children, what are their backgrounds?"

"The man in the black suit was brought up by a young man, possibly a father and son. No one knows the identity of that young man. He looks about the same age as Tatsuhiko Shibusawa. He is able to board a ghost ship at a young age. There must be something special about him. .” He said meaningfully, “Many people are asking who the young man is, and no one knows at present.”

Hearing his words, the second person was shocked. The secret is frightening, especially because no one knows the truth behind the secret. The people gathered here are all supernatural and spread across many fields. Someone suddenly appeared and was not recognized by anyone.Conceited elites especially hate things and people that exceed expectations, and Osamu Dazai is an unknown symbol.

"Whose child is in chains?"

"you ask me?"

"Correct."

"Maybe it doesn't belong to someone else. Judging by his appearance, maybe it's a pet brought here." The speaker winked, "Who puts shackles on a serious nephew? Besides, you look at his appearance..."

From the perspective of people with dirty minds, no matter how elegant the painting is, it will become obscene. Fyodor's pale cheeks are sickly red, his thin limbs, his slender neck, his toes without socks, and his shackles, There was a touch of eroticism in his words. He looked at Fyodor, as if he had received a low-level suggestion, and his cerebral cortex became active.

Zhongyuan Zhong also understood the other party's words, he was raised by Liuying, it is impossible to know everything, but the moment he understood what he meant, Zhongyuan Zhong still felt sick, the desire to vomit came from the bottom of his stomach, and he spent It took a while to calm down the restless stomach, and I wished to blow the head of an adult with my eyes.

[It's disgusting. ]

[too disgusting. ]

A table of people is playing a card game. They are playing the most classic blackjack, which is a test of calculation ability. Everyone on the table is very skillful in taking cards. The adult Nikaido has the most serious expression. Shima Shuji put on the smiling mask again, the corners of the mouths of the other two raised upwards, Nakahara also looked at them from a distance, thinking that the expressions of the three of them were exactly the same.

After three rounds, there was only a little chip left in front of Nikaido, and almost all of them had been sold out. The chips of the other three had increased. His forehead was covered with sweat, and he finally announced his withdrawal from the game before the chips were all lost.

A wonderful table full of people watching the game and observing the three sitting there.

Shuji Tsushima turned a deaf ear to the words of others, he still kept his eyes on Nakahara Chuya, seeing that he hadn't gone far, and said maliciously: "Mr. Slug, come on, we are still short of one person."

Zhongyuan Zhong also pretended not to hear it. He knew his gambling skills well, knew that it was impossible to win, and he didn't have enough chips to participate in the activities of the three of them, so he simply didn't play.

There are many people who are ready to move, generally holding the idea of ​​"how can I lose to a child", and come up one after another to die, but unfortunately no one can count them three. People go up, lose their chips, come down, and the cycle repeats. Within ten minutes, several people had been "killed".

Zhong Yuanzhong also felt bored, he wanted to go out, he wanted to go out, he couldn't help but spurn himself in his heart: [Watching three people playing cards, what's the point, you are so boring. ]

Stepping out of the banquet hall on the front foot, the guards in the boat on the back foot came late. They were not equipped with guns (it was said that they would disturb the distinguished guests), and they all carried electric shock batons in their hands. They rushed into the hall aggressively. The leader had small eyes, but Very vicious, he walked around the field, and finally locked his eyes on Fyodor.

The chief of the guard hooked his fingers, and the people behind him responded. He grabbed the boy by the hair and dragged him off the chair in a rather rough gesture. It must have hurt to pull the hair, but Fyodor seemed to be lost. As if suffering from pain, he didn't say a word, and his posture was still very relaxed. He was dragged off the chair alive, and his thin body fell to the ground.

silent.

All the sounds disappeared. People looked at the children and the guards with different expressions, but they all remained silent. After being violently dragged, the tall and burly youths behind the chief of guards rushed up and tied the mental patients with the restraint belts. Bind Fyodor into a cocoon.

Now someone has finally come forward to ask a question. Of course, what he is concerned about is not the whereabouts of the child, but whether his own life safety can be guaranteed: "What is he?" It seems that Fyodor is not a living person. It's one thing, "Can the safety of our guests be guaranteed?"

"Of course." The chief guard smiled apologetically, "He's not a dangerous person, he's just a fleeing auction item."

[Auction item? ]

[Escape? ]

Nakahara Chuya's expression was a little dangerous. He was not so naive that he had never heard of human trafficking, but he sneered at what the chief guard said.

[Hey, are you kidding me, isn't this guy a dangerous person? ] He caught a glimpse of the severed chain, [If the auctioned item can escape, it proves that the safety factor of this ship is worrying, right? Now it’s a child, what if some gladiator breaks through the bondage and comes out to kill? , just this group of weak chickens will definitely meet and die. ]

He sniffed and let out a disdainful snort: [I bet the person guarding him must have died. ]

He could see that Fyodor was similar to Shuji Tsushima, with a heart.

The problems that can be thought of in the Central Plains, other people can't think of it. For a while, the huge banquet hall became noisy, and questions came from all directions like a tide. The expression of the chief guard did not change, but the others did not. Visible confusion to the naked eye.

[Who is going to appear next? ] It took Zhongyuanzhong a lot of effort to remember the other party's name, [Malakazov, that's his name, right? ]

It was too late to speak, and then a handsome man in a black suit appeared from nowhere, trying to persuade everyone to stay calm. His voice was very peculiar and had a strong appeal. The mood of the listener fluctuated with his words.

[Really boring. ] Zhong Yuanzhong also thought interestingly.

……

April 7

21: 10pm

Bursts of musical notes washed in the air. It was by no means a famous song handed down from generation to generation in the music world, but a ditty tune that Dazai made up at will. walking.

In fact, the boat sailed very steadily, but he walked very obliquely.

Fyodor raised his head slightly when he heard the music, and his movement of raising his head was so subtle that the guards didn't think much about it.

Osamu Dazai ran into the guards.

"Oh." Osamu Dazai stopped and said, "What's going on?" The captain of the guard thought he was asking a child, so he smiled and said, "We are escorting the goods." He never mentioned Fyodor's escape. matter.

"Commodity?" He wrote the words "very interesting" on his face, and he bent his knees under the watchful eyes of the members of the guard. Relatively speaking, as for the language, it also switched to fluent Russian.

"Every time I see you, you are very embarrassed." He asked, "You are persecuted, hunted, bound, and all the tragedies and cruelties in the world seem to have been encountered by you."

The captain of the guard understands Japanese and Russian, and when he heard Osamu Dazai's words, his face changed suddenly. Due to the status of the other party's distinguished guest, he could not rudely ask him to get out of the way, so he could only stick to the corner of the wall in a twisted posture, trying to avoid Osamu Dazai. In the past, he grabbed the shackles on the child's hands with one hand and walked forward.

When Fyodor finally spoke, he replied in Russian: "Because that's life itself."

"Tragedy, conflict, war and false peace, we live in such a world."

……

April 7

21: 30pm

Karamazov looked gloomy.

He inspected the warehouse. The warehouse is located at the bottom of the ferry. Only the employees on the ship can enter here. Karamazov signed a life-and-death contract with these people. As long as they are the employees on the ship, he can easily take their lives, so no one dares to violate him. , and no one dares to let the goods go.

There are twelve gates to pass through from the warehouse to the top, and each gate is guarded, so he walked down from the top all the way, and saw the corpses all the way, every gatekeeper died, and he died by suicide.

Some people simply broke their own necks, and some people took a shot to the head. He felt that this situation was very abnormal, and he watched the surveillance before coming.

His employees were deceived, deceived by the cunning and liars, they thought they were possessed by supernatural powers, they were in the fantasy space, as long as they died, they could leave the fantasy space, and they were full of joy when they committed suicide, Thought I had escaped from an endless loop.

Fyodor was trapped on the wall again, his limbs were stretched wide, and thicker chains were tied around his wrists and ankles. Karamazov glanced at him and punched him hard on the stomach. The physiological reaction made the child wow He spit out stomach acid with a bang, and in just one hour, he received two consecutive blows to his abdomen.

When he vomited, he still had no expression on his face.

Karamazov squinted at him, feeling that something was wrong. He scanned Fyodor up and down, smiled and said with relief or malice, and said, "You don't feel pain." He asked, "What about the other senses?" Have you? Taste, smell, touch?"

Fyodor was not provoked. He looked at Karamazov as if he were looking at an ant or a paramecium. There was some pity in his eyes, but his pity was not real.

The middle-aged man in the black suit was no longer complacent. He was very annoyed and said coldly: "I must sell you for a good price. You killed several of my subordinates, and someone must pay for the loss."

"I don't care what you did before, and who sold you onto the ship. Anyway, once you're on board, don't try to escape. You're not a free man now, you're a commodity, you're an object of sale."

He pressed his nose almost to Fyodor's: "Remember that."

July 7, over.

……

April 7

6: 00am

Oda Sakunosuke got up very early.

He is a killer, and he is very strict with his body management. Unless he is on a mission, his daily life is very regular, going to bed early and getting up early.

He got up on time at six o'clock, did morning exercises, took a shower, made breakfast for himself, and then came to the cafe with the novel he hadn't read before.

This cafe opens very early. They also sell breakfast. The sandwiches are delicious. Most office workers don’t have time to sit in the store and taste the food. They pack coffee and sandwiches in paper bags. Wrap, get on the tram or car, the sandwich is tightly wrapped, the fragrance stays in the paper, and will not enter public places, causing a burden to others.

Oda ordered a cup of steaming coffee and a plate of scrambled eggs with sausages, and sat in the corner. The left side of his body was the wall, and the right side was scattered with a row of thin bamboos.Bamboo branches are criss-crossed, weaving into a fine grid, covering people, Oda sits here, office workers on the street can't see him, and the waiters in the store don't care about him.

Satisfied with a moment of peace, he opened the book at hand.

The last time he brought this book to the coffee shop, he stared at the first glance for a full 10 to [-] minutes, but not a word was printed in his mind. Oda Sakunosuke knew that his heart was not calm enough, and his mind was full of chaos Yes, thoughts that don't make sentences.

Today, his heart has settled down, and the reply from Mr. D has made him happy for several days. Until today, there are happy factors flowing in his blood.

The reading speed has become very fast, and he has a detective novel at hand. Some time ago, he asked Mr. D what detective novel was interesting and had a Japanese style. The other party recommended this book to him, and even described it maliciously in the letter:

/ After reading this book, you will never forget the content in the book. /

There is no name written on the cover of the book, no author information on the title page, and no publishing house, printing quantity, etc., so Oda Sakunosuke knows that this is an unpublished book and a private work of the author.

[It must have been written by Mr. D himself. ] He thought, [Mr. D said some time ago that he wanted to write a detective novel, maybe this is it. ]

The beginning of the story tells about a disappearance case. In just a few years, the police officers disappeared one after another. The surveillance cameras did not capture the scene before their disappearance, and even the bodies were not found. But one day, the sewer system in the Tokyo area was blocked. , the staff cleared out a pile of white bones, kicking off the disappearance case that has lasted for several years...

Oda Sakunosuke looked at the pre-existing situation, his thinking was driven by the ups and downs of the plot, and a corner of his heart compared this book with the works he had read in the past. He keenly found that the author's writing style seemed familiar, It has a lot in common with a ghostly writer who has been around for years.

[If that writer wrote detective stories, the finished product would be this book. ]

He thought unconsciously, and then the corners of his mouth slightly raised, as if he had solved a big secret.

Oda Sakunosuke's mood is like the first quarter moon that has appeared in the sky since the evening, rising little by little. The moonlight is quiet and soft, full of light colors. He thinks this is a tacit disclosure, a mysterious Mr. D also had the intention of disclosing his identity to him, so he sent an unsigned book.

For the whole morning, he was immersed in the world constructed by the book, but at nearly one o'clock in the afternoon, Oda Sakunosuke turned the page backwards, only to find that the book was at the end.

"No more?" He was so astonished that the professor with two moustaches walked up to him and realized his existence. He looked up at Natsume Soseki, and Natsume Soseki looked down at him, looking at the book with some meaning. Pointing: "Are you in the mood to read today?"

"Yes." Oda Sakunosuke said, "I finished reading it, but I was very confused."

"how?"

"It's a detective story," he said, "but the author didn't write the ending, and I guess he sent me the first half before he finished it, and now I want to read the rest of the story, but I don't. The text is for me to read, and I can’t help but hang on, very sad.”

"The unfinished book." Natsume Soseki smiled, "I understand, the most uncomfortable thing in the world is to read a book, only to find that such a book is not finished."

Oda Sakunosuke said: "Fortunately, I made an appointment with the owner of this book. I want to take this book there and ask him what the final result is when we meet."

"Wouldn't it be a little less interesting that way?"

Oda Sakunosuke didn't quite understand the meaning of the other party, he raised his head and looked at Natsume Soseki with puzzled eyes, as if asking: What should I do.

"If it was me." The older professor has a personality like an old urchin, he said enthusiastically, "If it were me, I would make up countless plots for it before knowing the final result, and each plot will lead to a different direction. the end of."

"You said it is a detective novel, right? Since it is a detective novel, it is a mystery drama. Isn't it very exciting to deduce possible results based on the information provided in the first half of the book?"

Oda Sakunosuke heard it and thought it was very interesting, but he said: "It is the writer's job to fabricate the plot. I am not a writer. Writing with a pen is like playing with an ax in the classroom."

"The point is not whether you are a writer." Natsume Soseki said, "The point is whether you want to write or not, and whether you have any fun in constructing the story."

Oda Sakunosuke didn't speak.

He guessed that he probably liked writing, and he poured his enthusiasm into the correspondence with Mr. D. The correspondence between the two of them could be selected into a correspondence collection. He carried a small notebook with him, saw interesting things, heard Write down interesting sentences in a small notebook, and then feed them back in a letter. Why is this not a process of collecting materials, or a process of writing a novel?

Mr. D is his literary predecessor.

[I, I want to weave a logical story for it, write the ending I imagined, and then bring the story I wrote to Mr. D, and ask him to look at the story I wrote under his guidance , Let him see my progress, my words, and my soul.

Mr. D once said that the exchange of words and words is the exchange of souls. He has spread the soul in front of readers, and now it is in front of me. I want to communicate with him in the same way. Tell him my concern, admiration and love for him. ]

The love he mentioned is not a love full of passion and desire, but a process of a lonely and tolerant heart getting close to another lonely heart.

"I see." He stood up and bowed to Natsume Soseki, "I will try to write the ending of this book and show it to the author."

"Maybe our thoughts are the same, maybe we are not the same, but I believe that the clumsy words I write can at least make me feel happy, and it can also bring him some fun."

He could even imagine that Mr. D was reading with a stack of papers, with a half-smile on the corner of his mouth.

7 month 29 day.

He drew a circle on the calendar of his mind with an oil-based pen.