I am a writer in the world of sorcery

It's the season for eating cherries, and it's midsummer. It's raining outside now, and it's raining heavily. It must be a good day tomorrow.

When Osamu Dazai was smoking, he accidentally knocked over a pile of papers that had been randomly piled up by Nakahara Nakaya. He bent over to pick it up, and accidentally brought the pile over with his elbow. A book with a dark green cover fell out from under the mess of papers. The notebook, falling to the floor, the pages spread out.

He picked up the notebook, flipped through it casually, and put it on the table again. Since a certain day four years ago, he has been writing something in the notebook one after another. Four years have passed, and he barely wrote half of the book. It wasn't a conspiracy, nothing to do with his plans or confusion, just some gibberish, broken and out of order.

The first time he wrote something in the notebook was because he ate a huge spicy curry, with red chili peppers on the plate, it was surprisingly spicy, and every time he swallowed it, he felt his taste buds were burning, and his back was so hot. Cold sweat, red nose, he looked at the red pepper on the plate, thinking that the scarf he will buy later should be so red, just thinking about it, the curtain behind him was suddenly lifted, "Boss, the curry is very spicy, pack it Take it away," the man said in a flat tone, chatting with the curry shop owner about the child's daily life like a normal chat: "The salary has not increased recently, and work is busy, please take care of it."

"Where is it?" the chubby curry shop owner joked with a smile, "five children are troublesome."

"Trouble," the man replied calmly, "but it's not that much trouble."

He also just finished eating that plate of extra spicy curry, thinking that eating this food is purely for himself, so after the man left, he also paid the money, went out to the shopping street, and the other party went out to the right to return to the detective agency , a sand-colored windbreaker, red hair, his figure is getting smaller and smaller in the overcast sky.

"I thought you wouldn't live to be 22 years old." Nakahara Nakaya said, "But since you have already lived to this age, you should live well."

"Ah, Chuya, you are such a good person."

Osamu Dazai rolled his eyes silently, thinking that it wasn't true, today is his 25th birthday.

In the drawer was the small package that Mori Ogai had sent him a few days ago. Even if that person was thrown into the orphanage by him, he would have a way to send the birthday present to the heavily guarded chief's office without knowing it. He held it in his hand He weighed the box, didn’t disassemble it, but didn’t throw it away, so he kept it intact and put it in the drawer. After taking over, he didn’t change the layout of the office much. Even today, he can still dig out a few boxes from the drawer. Crayons for children's drawings.

"Hey Dazai, pack up these documents." Zhong Yuanzhong instructed him bluntly: "If you can't find them by then, don't ask me for them again."

Osamu Dazai didn't care that the confidential information that fell on the ground was mixed with messy trifles, he picked it up all at once, and piled it all on the table. The remaining half of the cream cake was put aside, he listened to the rain outside the window, imagined Yokohama shrouded in the light gray rain curtain, and suddenly wanted to make a piece of hard tofu.

Even though his request was unbelievable, his subordinates still delivered the raw materials as quickly as possible.

He also made hard tofu before, but at that time the use of tofu was for suicide, which sounded absurd. The tofu was not successful, and only a piece of skin was broken on his head, so he threw the tofu into the trash can, this kind of thing Only Oda Saku would ask if it was delicious, so let him taste it, that strange man in a certain sense, even if he received a package from a stranger, he would probably open it and take a look.

Osamu Dazai laughed after thinking about it, the smile was a bit pure, and a bit real, Nakahara also turned his face: "Before I go on a business trip tomorrow, don't play tricks on me."

How come, he replied sincerely, with a warm voice, like a wheat falling into the soil, I intend to be a good person.

Osamu Dazai lifted up the cuff of his shirt and reached out to touch the soybeans soaked in the water. They were plump and round, and he held a firm handful in the palm of his hand. He rubbed the beans with his fingers, picked up the beans and threw them into the mill. pulper, and then covered the water outlet with gauze to filter. For a while, the chief's office was filled with the fragrance of ground beans, and the rain outside was still pouring down. After filtering the soybean milk, he put his hand into the water again.

The accident also happened at this time, time was reversed, space was turbulent, he only had time to blink, and looked at Nakahara Chuya, whose complexion changed drastically, and the next second a bright red energy beam rushed towards him, the sky brightened suddenly, the wind was loud, bright Seeing the glare of sunlight piercing his eyes, Osamu Dazai thought to himself that such an attack on the office of the head of the port mafia would really disgrace his dignity, and he must ask Nakahara Chuya to take revenge...?

He was stunned.

In the end, he saw his old friend.

White hair and white eyelashes, blue eyes seem to extend the sky, and seem to melt into the endless sky, shining brightly, six eyes are clear and clear, and the right hand is still making a knot gesture, with a tense face, vigilant and probing, like A beautiful white cat whose tail was pulled, threw it at him, "What do you want to do again?"

Dazai was really helpless.

He didn't expect to experience such a thing until today. Looking around, looking at the person in front of him, and roughly estimating the time, he just wanted to sigh, but the slight sigh had dissipated from the base of his tongue before he could utter it. In the end, it turned into a little bit of joy, and now Osamu Dazai has accepted all the unexpected waves well. This time, the rare time disorder has turned into a bit of mischievous and malicious joke of fate.

He was still very helpless when Gojo Satoru accused me of being too unreliable. He slandered me in his heart for how unreliable I was. He just fooled you two or three times. No, Osamu Dazai never did anything to you at this point in time. , Why are you getting angry at me now?As a result, Gojo Satoru couldn't see him smiling, and always felt that he had malicious intentions, and felt that he was going to stab him in the back.

That's right, Dazai thought.

What is Gojo Satoru's six eyes? He still hasn't figured it out until now. This question will surely lie in the urn with him, but those eyes can be summed up by omniscience and all-seeing in the final analysis. All-knowing and all-seeing, he listened I just find it incredible, and thinking about his bad intentions before, this person may not be unaware, just like Wujo Satoru in front of him knew that he might stab himself, but he still leaned forward and waited for the knife to go in. his body.

I don't know if this cat is self-abuse, or arrogant, or if it has absolute confidence in itself, so confident that it is so proud, Osamu Dazai thinks about the little cube he carries with him, and suddenly feels very sorry, four and a half years The previous Dazai Osamu didn't know why he was going crazy, he was probably still immature and unsteady, the young man could do anything with his head, but he wanted others to pay for him.

He didn't quite know how to get along with this Gojo Satoru. Judging from his past experience, this accident would not last long. At most one day, he would be able to return to his chief's office. , the bone that was not healed a few months ago started to hurt again, and it was densely sour. Osamu Dazai hadn't come out of the office for a long time. .

"What do you want to do next." The man asked again: "I mean, what do you want to do, even if it's a vacation, you have to have a destination." Wujo Gojo wanted to ask why, and it stands to reason that Osamu Dazai should be angry. It should be displeased, after all these years no one has dared to challenge his authority, but it may be that the sky is too bright and the wind blows people really comfortably, making burnout and laziness erupt together.

Osamu Dazai didn't want to do anything, he just wanted to rest.

So he said, I want to sleep.

Osamu Dazai is actually not sleepy, nor is he very tired. The plan has come to an end, and the last step is about to be completed, but it would be too embarrassing for Dazai Osamu to take a one-day trip to Tokyo with great interest. He was in a dilemma when he saw the old man, he didn't know what attitude to take, and in the end he could only stick the almighty smile on his face, and the messy memory fragments kept going up, he didn't have much interest in the people and things in the past, After all, it is an established fact that has been experienced once, and this time returning to the past is a surprise, and it is only a surprise.

But he didn't expect a simple sentence of sleep, but he was stunned to be interpreted by this cat full of vulgar thoughts. What kind of sleep is sleep?The one that moves sleeps?Then the cat pointed downstairs again and asked him with wide blue eyes: "Are you going to join them?"

Do you want to join that group of pretty, pure, or glamorous young ladies, and then sleep with them, the white-haired man frowned and asked—Osamu Dazai was slightly dazed, with that wry smile still showing from his lips.

How is it possible, said Osamu Dazai.

He was suddenly a little curious about what kind of image he was in Gojo Satoru's heart. He first put the label of "Wanglang Xingkui" on himself, but when it comes to "Wanglang", he spends most of the time wandering with this cat, so Gojo Satoru can't blame him anyway. After all, they are not the same, but he found that the other party seems to think that he can set the bottom line infinitely low, there is no lower limit, but if it really wants to be infinitely low, I would have sold you to stand for a while, Dazai Osamu thought with a smile, and finally quite Wei was amused to find that the cat was so stimulated by him that it was about to explode.

Why is it always like this? While complaining secretly, he calmed down completely, and no longer caused the other party to think about it. He looked at the Wutiao Wu in front of him again, and counted on his fingers in his heart. If according to the normal timeline, this Wutiao Wu knew Dazai Osamu should only be 15 years old.

15 years old, what a good age, unscrupulous, young and energetic, thinking that everything is under control, and pouring malice on the whole world for himself.

And now Osamu Dazai is 25 years old. If he can live a few more years, he will be in his thirties. A person who is almost 30 years old, no matter how immature he is, it can't be justified.

Ten years have passed.

How long can ten years be?

Ten years is already one-tenth of the life of a long-lived person with a long life. For Dazai Osamu, it is a small part of his life. Now he can't empathize with the 15-year-old Dazai Osamu, and he gradually settles down. Those sensual and luxurious pastimes seem to have happened in his previous life. It's not that he has restrained himself, but he just feels bored—after all, he is such a grown-up man, it's almost enough, those bursting or concealed emotions are gradually becoming Peaceful, finally buried in an unknown corner.

Osamu Dazai looked at Gojo Satoru's pretty face, and thought that when the cat came out of the prison gate, he would probably be terribly angry. He wanted to seek revenge but couldn't find anyone. It stands to reason that he should write a long letter and say it seriously. Sorry, he couldn't write an article to praise this person's excellent naming taste, but it is also possible to write a letter of apology, and think about it again.

Forget it, hypocritical.

Osamu Dazai smiled slowly, put his hands in his pockets, and lay down on the roof without any image. The sky was blue and white, and the sky was bright. He thought that Gojo Satoru might really be a monster. Under the traces, after many years, he is still the same squeamish, and when he gets old, he will also be a squeamish old man who likes sweets. It is said that there are no regrettable deaths for conjurers, so I wish him a long life and die of old age naturally.

I wish you a long life, he said it several times calmly and silently, thinking that this is really a good wish.

Longevity.

Longevity.

Longevity.

The light on the rooftop is brighter than other places. You can’t see the darkness with your eyes closed. There is a bright orange in your sight. After closing your eyes and resting your mind, you hear someone talking, and then you hear someone talking again. After opening your eyes, you can see Seeing Xia Youjie's nagging face, the other party stared at him inexplicably.

It's not inexplicable, Xia Youjie is twisted and delicate, he guessed that Xia Youjie wanted to say something, and thought that if this person said it, he would definitely throw the word hypocritical in the other's face, okay The leader of the cult has always made money by observing words and expressions, so he pointed to the book in his hand and said that Qi Hai's book was out of order.

This was another surprise.

The book didn't weigh much in his hand. He lowered his eyes and looked at the cover of the book called Jianzi Ruwu, and stroked the apricot blossoms on the cover twice with his fingertips. The embossed treatment made it look bright, but it didn't touch it. The soft and delicate touch of the real flower petals, but this apricot flower still touched a part of the memory. Looking through the content again, he must have kept those letters that he gave to the little conjurer girl.

Jianren Nanami’s letter doesn’t have much literary talent, it’s plain and straight, and the words are straightforward. If it weren’t for Kosuge Yinkichi’s reputation, it would definitely not be published. He has never seen Oda’s work, but he still wishes his friends all wishes come true. , Nanami's letters are basically daily instructions and chants, the cold snap will cool down next week, there will be rain on Sunday, and the garbage collection day will be changed to Wednesday, if you miss it, you will have to wait another two weeks, don't play tricks on the editor, canned crab meat is not too bad Multi-nutrients...and that sort of thing.

Osamu Dazai couldn't help tilting his head and laughing dumbfounded when he saw the back. When such a letter was published, it was no wonder that the magic spirit formed in this book would be a female image. He turned another page of the book and couldn't help but mutter to himself that he was 15 years old. What a hassle.

It's good, it's really good, he lowered his eyes and smiled purely, but once the memory is touched, it's like a flash flood. At first, it's just a stone falling down. This stone has grass and roots attached to it. Then they pulled out some other things one after another. In an instant, the mountains collapsed, the mudslides covered everything, and a few immortal monuments stood in the overwhelming flood. Osamu Dazai has a good memory, so good that he can remember what those eyes are like Little by little light is lost, how the pupils slacken little by little, how the body loses temperature little by little, and becomes cooler than the floor.

"Want to meet Qihai?" Xia Youjie asked, "His home is not far from here."

Anything a dying man can wish for will be granted, he thought.

Osamu Dazai is dying.