I am a writer in the world of sorcery

"Boss, I want a glass of whiskey and dish soap."

"Feel sorry."

Osamu Dazai lifted the hem of his coat and sat on the high chair. It was a surprise to come across a bar in such a simple alley. Have a glass of whiskey."

The shopkeeper in the vest responded. A shop in Yokohama, which is in the sphere of influence of the port mafia, would naturally not ask Dazai Osamu if he was an adult. He took the wine glass and poked the ice puck inside with his fingers. .

Although he was calling for whiskey on the sports car in Zhongye, but the whiskey was really in front of him, he lost interest. This person's interest always comes and goes quickly. At this time, the wooden door creaked, A red-haired man in a sand-colored trench coat entered.

It didn't know when it started to rain outside, and his clothes still had some moisture on them.

"Boss, a glass of whiskey with ice."

The store manager nodded familiarly, and put the wine glass on the table: "Have you finished your work today?"

"Ah, it's done."

"Are you still writing?" The store manager took out a bowl of chazuke from under the counter: "Take it back for supper."

"Thank you, I've been too busy with work recently, so I haven't had time to start writing." The man replied as if he was narrating something straight.

Osamu Dazai turned his face sideways, looked at the two people over there and blinked his eyes. This kind of ordinary conversation made him feel extremely novel. The reason is very simple. He recognized the red-haired man, who used to be in Mori Ou A powerful person with supernatural abilities that appeared in the folder on the outer table.

Oda Sakunosuke, the name of the ability is——

[Seamless. ]

"Hi?" Osamu Dazai put his face on the bar counter and waved at Sakunosuke Oda: "What's your name?"

"Oda Sakunosuke."

"It's Odasaku." Dazai Osamu said with a smile, "I'm Dazai, Dazai Osamu."

Hearing his name being called out in a strange way, Oda Saku answered honestly, then turned his head, and continued to drink very calmly.

[So this is Osamu Dazai. ] He simply sighed in his heart.

Osamu Dazai struck him as a grumpy cat, with a thin jaw and bony wrists, pale skin, and one eye was tightly bandaged.

[Are you hurt? ]

Members of the port mafia should not be ignorant of the name Dazai Osamu, but Odasaku just greeted him normally, as if the two had known each other.

Osamu Dazai's iris-colored eyes lit up a few more degrees.

He raised his glass with a smile on his face: "Odasaku, would you like a toast?"

The deadbolt flicked slightly.

Zhongyuan Zhong was also startled in the middle of the night, he sat up alertly, and stepped on the ground silently, the guy who could touch his apartment and barge in in the middle of the night must not be a good person, he turned the gun in his hand Dagger, the corner of his mouth raised a curve that could be called a sinister smile.

In the middle of the night, who will disturb my sleep?

"Ah, pain, pain, pain, pain!" Accompanied by the sound of something smashing into pieces, the intruder wailed loudly, and Zhong Yuanzhong also took a deep breath, so angry that his teeth were itchy, and he clicked on the light.

"Why don't you fucking go to your broken container and go to Lao Tzu's place?"

"Find a dog to listen to me." Osamu Dazai looked over as a matter of course, and kicked aside the ornaments he knocked over before: "Chuya, I met Odasaku at the bar just now, do you know? He used to A killer, but now he wants to be a..."

"What's none of my business?" Zhong Yuanzhong also interrupted him inexplicably: "If you were a second late, I would have smashed your head."

"Chuya!" Osamu Dazai raised his voice to the point where he could cover the opponent's voice.

"How much did you drink?" Zhong Yuanzhong also waved his hand, trying to disperse the smell of alcohol in the air.

Osamu Dazai didn't listen to his question at all, and continued talking on his own. Nakahara listened for a while, and couldn't help frowning. He walked up to Osamu Dazai, grabbed the man's fluffy and soft curly hair forcibly, and pulled him to the side. Pulled down a little: "Let me remind you again, the leader has warned you not to take medicine indiscriminately."

When they first met, Osamu Dazai was still keen on drug suicide. At that time, his drug abuse problem gave Mori Ogai a severe headache. Different from the neuroticism of a physiological reaction triggered by chemical components, Osamu Dazai looked bright at this time Yiyi's appearance, the iris-colored eyes are shining brightly.

In the Central Plains, it seems that this person is even crazier than those days, and his emotions are so excited that he also feels creepy.

And this sentiment is actually positive?

And when did Osamu Dazai develop the habit of asking people to listen to him?

He could see that Osamu Dazai didn't expect any response from him, but it made no difference to him whether it was Chuya Nakahara or the little trash raccoon in his container hut that this person needed at this moment.

Thinking of this, Zhongyuan Zhong became even more angry, suppressing his voice: "You want someone to listen to you, why did you come to my place?"

"Then who do you think I should go to?"

"Love so and so—" Nakahara Chuya flashed a string of names in his mind, and then found sadly that for Dazai Osamu, the entire port mafia is, maybe, really only he is suitable to be this unlucky guy, he It was impossible to knock on Mori Ogai's door in the middle of the night.

Osamu Dazai was amused to find that a moment of embarrassment flitted across Nakahara Chuya's face, and the blue eyes also flashed a little bit of guilt, so he pushed his nose to his face without hesitation for a second: "Chuya, I spent a month's worth of expenses on you tonight."

Zhongyuan Zhong also scratched his hair irritably, leaned against the wall, and asked again: "Since you were picked up by me, you have been ill, Dazai, what are you going crazy about?"

He and Osamu Dazai became partners purely because of external pressure from Mori Ogai. Nakahara Nakahara recognized Dazai Osamu’s nature as early as the cooperation at the age of 15. Even though he had planned to get along well at the beginning, the final choice was still Stay away.

Dazai Osamu is a person who usually pretends to be enthusiastic and indifferent. He is also very busy on weekdays. When we first met, he came here every now and then to find fault, and he got bored within a few days.

In addition, this person's feelings are pitifully stingy, cloudy and sunny, moody, and he refuses people thousands of miles away. This is also the reason why Nakahara Chu did not hesitate to define Osamu Dazai's behavior as a disease.

He seemed to be deliberately trying to reach people.

It’s not right to say that it’s contact, it’s more like he no longer resists, he doesn’t refuse everything that flocks to him, trying to let himself indulge in this world, drowning is the best, it doesn’t matter if he can’t die, seeing this crazy Dazai Zhi, Nakahara couldn't help but think of the moment when he opened his eyes from the supernatural device——

Like a new life.

But fucking Osamu Dazai lived to be 16 and still doing this, isn't something wrong and starting to go crazy, what else?

Osamu Dazai was silent for a while, his face became gloomy, and his pupils lost their brightness. He slowly raised the corners of his mouth: "How about this?"

"It's much better." Nakahara Zhongya replied.

Osamu Dazai opened his eyes slightly, and after a while, his shoulders shook, he bent over and began to laugh.

He gradually realized that another world had influenced him, from Fu Heihui to Qihai Jianren, from Xia Youjie to Wujo Wu, those conjurers did show him another possibility of life. A violent existence that is completely different from the port mafia.

He drank with Oda before, and the ice cubes soaked in blue sparkling water rolled up and down, with snowdrift-like foam piled up on it.

For no reason, he thought of those bright blue eyes.

[… something of value. ]

"Chuya." Osamu Dazai straightened his body, "I always thought that there is no such thing as something that one should pursue even at the expense of prolonging one's painful life."

"...that's exactly what you would say."

Dazai Osamu smiled: "But someone told me that there are always things to look forward to in this world, and there are always things that are worth prolonging life. If you don't want to go to Egypt to buy some beautiful blue spice bottles--and I actually It turns out he was right."

[The future me is indeed prolonging my life for something. ]

Nakahara Chuya's lips moved, his blue eyes widened, his drowsiness and drowsiness were swept away, Dazai Osamu looked at his expression with a growing smile on his face, Nakahara Chuya came back to his senses, and habitually said Being teased by the other party's gesture, his nerves were on fire: "So is it true that you said you don't want to die? From now on, I won't have to go to the river to fish you?"

But only he knew that at a certain moment he was so stunned that he couldn't even make a sound.

"You can go downstairs to pick me up. Not entering the water doesn't mean I won't jump off the building." Osamu Dazai raised an eyebrow and pointed out the window: "If you need to practice, I can jump once now."

Osamu Dazai stopped before he was about to receive the flying kick from the slug. He suppressed the deliberately exaggerated expressions and shrugged casually: "Everyone in the port mafia is facing the threat of death, maybe a stray bullet."

He put his index finger against his temple, made a motion of pulling the trigger, and smiled with his eyes bent: "Ding Dong?"

Nakahara was also standing there in a complicated manner. He could find someone like Osamu Dazai in the whole world, a suicidal madman who longed to be alive. After all, the two of them didn't know each other very well before, and now they are standing here in the middle of the night discussing what Life and death, all Dazai Osamu smoothed out the sense of distance between them.

—this irritating mannerism.

Nakahara Chuya's eyelids twitched, and he could vaguely see some signs of mackerel control madness. Even if Osamu Dazai gave up suicide, he would not change his jerk nature: "Okay, you're done talking? Let me find a subordinate for you to send you back container?"

"Why should I go back to the container?"

The veins on Nakahara Chuya's forehead popped, but Dazai Osamu's pocket beeped. They were all familiar with this frequency. There were only a handful of people who could contact Dazai Zhi at this time, and Nakahara Nakahara raised his head slightly. He raised his jaw and signaled: "Don't answer?"

The caller was the head of the port mafia, Mori Ogai.

"No."

Osamu Dazai frowned, put his hand into his pocket, directly pressed the stop button, and cut off the communication again: "It's nothing important anyway."

He didn't even have to think about it deliberately, and he knew what Mori Ogai wanted to explore—it was nothing more than the punch that Nakahara Chuya punched him before, and he asked him where Dazai was hiding. This kind of words reached Mori Ogai's ears .

Nakahara Chuya: ...

Within a few seconds, the landline in the living room suddenly rang continuously, Nakahara Nakaya walked over, just picked up the receiver, a few dexterous and long fingers snatched the phone.

Osamu Dazai pressed the receiver to his ear with a blank expression.

The person on the opposite side seemed to know that there was a new person on the other end of the phone line, with an unpredictable smile as always.

"Dazai-kun, please come to the chief's office."