[Bungo Stray Dogs] Snus

He has often come to this old tavern that he secretly compared to a badger's lair in his heart.

I can't tell the specific reason, but after the detective agency finishes its work, it will always come here unconsciously.

Order a simple whiskey on the rocks, and spread out the notebook you always keep in mind about the little things you see and hear on the way to work.

Under the dim yellow light, the nib of the pen filled with black ink slowly outlines the shape of the story and the feelings that flow into the heart like a stream.

And the phrase 'you already have a pen' always comes to mind.

It's just that after sorting out the messy essays for practice, I won the Newcomer Award unexpectedly, although I said 'I just want to write such a book'.

But in fact, the pen in his hand continued to write.

The figure of the mafia leader with a wonderful and contradictory atmosphere will always appear in my mind from time to time, especially the childish expression of the young man, and the appearance of crying at that moment.

The tip of the pen paused slightly, and the ink left deep black spots on the paper. Oda picked up the whiskey in the upper left corner of the notebook and drank half a glass.

The cold and spicy wine flowed down the throat from the mouth, like ignited gasoline, slowly burning into the internal organs.

jingle-

The door of the tavern was pushed open, and the copper bell hanging on the door was telling the bartender what was going on outside.

Oda put down the cup, and the ice cube that melted more than half of its volume vibrated due to the action of putting it down, making a sound like a clang.

The dim light shone on the whiskey, and the halo formed by the ice cubes, liquor, and glass hit the corner of his notes.

"blackRussian."

The new guest sat on the high stool beside him, and ordered a glass of wine with high alcohol content in a hoarse voice, which he didn't drink very often.

With his elbows on the bar, Oda saw the forest green sleeves, like a sports jacket, which inexplicably gave him a very childish feeling.

His eyes couldn't help moving up, and from the corner of his eye, he glanced over it. It was indeed a sports jacket, with a hat that couldn't be turned over at the back. The clothes were very casual, and the zipper was not pulled all the way, revealing the black shirt inside.

I couldn't help but move my gaze upwards, and met my gaze abruptly.

He quickly withdrew his sizing and observation, and being found out made him a little embarrassed. "Do you still have to work after get off work? After becoming an adult, it is really hard."

There was a bit of ridicule in that voice, and it sounded in my ears with an inexplicable meaning.

Oda couldn't help looking at his clothes, the long windbreaker was a little frizzy, and the shirt inside was a little sloppy. He reached out and touched his chin, pricking his hands.

I really looked like an office worker. The bartender put the prepared Black Russia on the bar and pushed it towards the guests.

When the black-gloved finger was about to take it, Oda reached out to stop it mysteriously. "Can you drink now?" He bit his tongue. "I mean, are you twenty yet?"

In this country, drinking and smoking have to be over a certain age, and of course there are some guys who are always ready to move.

Oda also felt that he was a little rude, but he is a person who likes to worry about such trivial matters.

The guests blocked by him, even the bartender were stunned, and the subtle expression that the bartender looked at made Oda feel as if his cheeks were burned.

Immediately, a series of hilarious "ha ha ha ha" rang out in this old tavern, and Oda also knew that he might have thought wrong, so he withdrew his hand in embarrassment. Fortunately, there was no one in the tavern now, otherwise he would probably have crawled into a crack in the ground up.

The glass of Black Russia with high alcohol content was poured into the mouth after the laughter stopped, drinking it very boldly and carelessly. "call--"

The guest next to him let out a long breath, it seemed that this glass of wine drove away all the tiredness, heaviness, and unhappiness in his body. If alcohol had such an effect, Oda felt that he wanted to order a glass very much.

"I'm really satisfied. I always feel that I have the strength to deal with the next thing. Sure enough, vodka is more exciting than red wine, but the softness of coffee syrup is just right. Let's have another glass."

The dullness in the voice seemed to disappear with the drinking of this glass of wine, replaced by a refreshing feeling.

The other party did not hesitate to describe the taste of Black Russia accurately. It seems that he might be an expert in drinking, and his misunderstanding just now was really a big oolong.

Oda lowered his head, he has been in the society for so long, although he is no longer a person who is easily shy when encountering anything, but this kind of time always makes him feel embarrassed.

"You are really an interesting person. This is the first time someone asked me that kind of thing. If you were in normal times, you would already be on the hospital bed in the inpatient department." The people around said so, with a smile in their voice, It can be heard that the other party doesn't care very much. "I can tell you're a nice guy."

Then the evaluation is also very direct.

From where did you see that I am a good guy, Oda was very puzzled, but it was inevitable that the other party was really a straightforward person.

It's an amazing feeling.

Except for the somewhat youthful face of the other party, he feels very comfortable, but he is really young, and maybe it has the added effect of the casual sportswear on his body.

Moreover, what he releases to the direction is the kindness that makes him feel comfortable, and there are also some good feelings.

Goodwill really exists, and it is also one of the reasons for getting along like this.

"Are you still working overtime?" The other party asked.

Working overtime is simply the norm in the current working party. Is there anyone who works in a company who has not experienced overtime culture? Oda has never worked overtime. The atmosphere of a detective agency is different from that of ordinary companies.

But he also knew why the other party asked such a question. "It's off work." He reached out and closed his notebook. "It's just recording footage."

"Material? Reporter?"

"……no."

"writer?"

"..."

The answer was silence. Oda didn't know if he could be called a writer now, but the book he read in his youth did leave a deep impression on him.

And I have been deeply affected until now, and even the reason why I picked up the pen began at that time.

But he didn't feel in his heart that after receiving the Newcomer Award, he could be called a writer.

'If you can't even write yours, no one in the world can write it. 'This sentence suddenly popped up in my mind, and I can even recall the determination on the young man's face when he said this sentence.

But the memories of not long ago are somewhat clear and terrifying at this moment.

Why did that person let himself remember so clearly?

Oda has not been able to figure it out until now.

"I can't be called a writer yet." He replied in a low voice.

It's just that the voice was too ethereal, whether it was speaking to this guest or answering someone, it was unclear.

However, the suddenly depressed young man aroused the interest of the people around him.

No matter what happened before, that good evaluation will not change anything in my heart, and that's all. "You are very interesting, let's get to know each other like this, my name is Nakahara Chuya."

The drinker with a youthful temperament introduced himself in a refreshing voice that seemed unable to stain him with any trace of worldly dust. The joy and sincerity in the words seemed that the other party really just wanted to make friends.

But is it really possible?

Oda asked himself in his heart, before, he was also the former leader of the port mafia that he met in this tavern.

And now, he met the current leader of the port mafia in this forbidding tavern.

Could it be that the chief of the port likes this kind of small place, no, no, no, in this case, a coincidence doesn't make sense at all.

It's just that compared to the wonderful young man before, he was still guarded and unfamiliar, but this time the sincerity and frankness of the leader directly erased his vigilance.

Oda couldn't help laughing wryly, could it be that the chiefs of the port are all such wonderful guys?

"Are you looking for me?" At the same place, the bartender didn't know when to back out from the bar.

It is just put in the wine glass, it is so spicy that people can't help but shed tears.

Nakahara Chuya's eyes fell on the wine rack inside the bar, relying on the memory in his mind to identify the name of each bottle of wine.

To be honest, he is very familiar with red wine, but it is really difficult for him to recognize the brands that will appear in taverns.

But the taste of vodka, is really fantastic.

A glass of wine after work is really better than a living god.

"It can be said that I have been investigating some things recently, but the clues to certain events were suddenly interrupted, so I wanted to talk to the person involved." He reached out and flicked the glass in front of him, and the ice cubes inside slid down. "I think you should know what I'm investigating, so can we talk about it?"

Oda looked at the leather side of his brown notebook, and the things that the present leader could investigate by himself must be related to the previous generation. Before the detective agency, he had been in that kind of world.

Even though the people around him feel very gentle to him, he doesn't think the guy who is feared by his colleagues in the agency is a gentle guy.

But it feels very strange. The nerves in his brain have never been tense from the time the other party appeared to when he revealed his identity. It was as if the other party praised him for being a good guy without hesitation, and he also felt that this sentence was also applicable to the other party. "Actually, I'm also curious about the matter you investigated."

"Is this a writer's interest?"

"You are really straightforward. I am not qualified to call myself a writer yet."

"But aren't you holding a pen?"

"Ugh?"

In fact, Oda was not holding a pen at this moment, the pen was caught in the notebook, but the other party said such words, he was stunned, and the words of the young man that night came back to his mind.

- you already have a pen

wonderful.

It's really amazing.

Oda couldn't help but lick the dryness on his lips with his tongue. "Why do you think that I am holding the pen when I am not holding the pen at this moment?" He asked this doubt impatiently.

Why do you leaders seem so wonderful to others? Could it be that this is the self-cultivation of the port chiefs?

Zhong also looked at this member of the detective agency who was a little impatient, but fell into a trance in the next second.

He frowned strangely. "Isn't that natural? Your ideal should be a writer. You should stay away from the life of a killer because you have something you want to do. Although the work that won the newcomer award is about trivial things that I don't understand, But isn’t it just another manifestation of life.”

"But I don't have a pen to reflect reality, and I don't have the corresponding ability to express..." At this point, Oda closed his mouth. He had also mentioned this sentence to that young man here.

Afterwards, the other party was determined and full of confidence that even he himself had never had before.

"Are you stupid!"

An unceremonious low reprimand shattered his memory.

"I..." I wanted to say something.

"What do you think is reality?" The glass of Black Russia was pushed over, and most of the ice cubes had already melted. "Drink it."

"But it's yours."

"Please, I can't go back to work if I drink too much. Although you don't need to work overtime, I've been very busy recently. This is all caused by your people. In short, go back and tell your legal affairs. The side will truthfully demand compensation."

I always feel that the topic is very jumpy, and suddenly it jumped to the thing they were worried about in the morning.

If that's the case, it's fine, but what exactly is the compensation? Is it money or something?

Oda couldn't help worrying about the management of the detective agency, but he still picked up his glass and drank it down.

Compared with my own whiskey, this glass of Black Russia is really mixed with a taste that can be called sweet. Although the top is the same, it is much softer.

"What do you think is reality? Isn't this glass of wine, the feeling brought by the liquid, and the feeling in your body just an experience of reality?"

"Isn't your life just a kind of reality? No matter how trivial a trivial matter is, it can touch people's hearts, isn't it a kind of power called realistic expression? Your ideal is something you want to write, right?" , but the excessive pursuit of writing and the art in it is putting the cart before the horse.”

Zhong also said and shook his head. "Really, I really can't understand you guys, you always like to think about so many things, think about so many so-called meanings, push yourself into a harsh and embarrassing place, and finally make trouble for others, I I have to work overtime recently, isn't it just because of you guys."

He sighed, stretched out his hand to rub his forehead, his tone was full of annoyance.

Oda didn't get angry when he heard that, but laughed instead. "Mr. Nakaya, has anyone ever said that they hate you?"

Chuya paused for a moment when he rubbed his head, and then a look of disgust appeared on his face, as if he remembered the worst thing, something he couldn't bear but had to bear. "Yeah, and I hate that guy too!" He squeezed the words through his teeth.

"Ha ha ha ha."

"What are you laughing at? Is this revenge?"

"No, uh, I was just thinking, maybe the other party likes you unexpectedly."

When Zhong also heard this sentence, he couldn't help being taken aback, and then made a motion of vomiting. "Forgive me." He stood up, looking like he was about to leave. "Tell me what happened here that night in your own way. This is a favor I owe you."

"I don't need favors. It's my duty to cooperate with your investigation."

"No." Zhong also shook his head. "This is my personal matter, not related to the port."

Oda pursed her lips. "Okay." He touched the empty wine glass, hesitated, and asked. "Mr. Nakaya, about Akutagawa-kun..."

The conversation was interrupted. "That's the matter of the port. If you are asking as a member of a detective agency, I won't answer you."

Oda didn't speak any more, just watched the figure gradually disappear, he looked away, opened the notebook again, took off the cap of the pen, and wrote this.

"Ah, Odasaku, long time no see." The young man in a black coat greeted me who was full of doubts so familiarly, as if he was an old friend he hadn't seen for a long time. "Come to drink so early."...'