I am a writer in the world of sorcery

--See you tomorrow.

They didn't see each other tomorrow or the day after tomorrow. For several days in a row, only Sakunosuke Oda was free to go to the bar, and Ango Sakaguchi went to Tokyo on a business trip. Osamu Dazai suddenly became busy. Unbearable, he ran to harass Zhongya in the Central Plains.

He took out a wire and pointed it at the keyhole, and with a click, the door lock, which had been changed countless times in Zhongyuan, suddenly became useless.

"Chuya, Mr. Mori asked you to come with me..."

As Osamu Dazai said, he looked around, and finally his eyes stopped on Nakahara Chuya, who was wearing an expensive suit, and the tail of orange hair was neatly attached to the side of his neck.

Black gloves, black hat, black shoes.

Osamu Dazai is the youngest cadre of the Port Mafia in history, and now it is a living legend in the organization. Rumors say that nothing can hide from his eyes-it is not groundless, but it is also too mythical.

It's just that Osamu Dazai's intelligence enables him to easily see through the lies, and then piece together the whole picture of the matter based on the clues. In addition, he doesn't care about anything, and he looks calm and relaxed at all times.

"Where are you going?"

Nakahara was also very speechless listening to Osamu Dazai's nonsense, if Ogai Mori had not approached him in advance, he would have been fooled by Osamu Dazai by now, and said angrily, "Business trip."

"Huh? Where are you going on a business trip?"

"—What does it have to do with you, Osamu Dazai?"

"Why doesn't it have anything to do with me?" Osamu Dazai argued forcefully from the side: "You went on a business trip, and the work is still thrown at me? Chuya, how do you want to compensate me? You have to buy me some luxurious souvenirs!"

Zhong Yuanzhong also sneered.

Unlike his business trips all over the world, Osamu Dazai stayed in Yokohama and never went anywhere. Nakahara is also a person who pays attention to etiquette. Every time he returns from a business trip, he will bring some souvenirs, but this is the first time he gave a gift to Osamu Dazai At that time, the disgust and disgust on this man's face made him feel that he had fed all his kindness to the dogs, and since then he directly threw Osamu Dazai into his blacklist.

"Don't even think about it." He refused straight away: "Go and buy what you want."

Hearing this, Osamu Dazai suddenly became quiet, the corners of his eyes drooped aggrievedly, and he retracted his jaw slightly. After a few seconds, he pursed his lips and raised his eyes to look at Nakahara Chuya. His eyes were wistful and pitiful. It looks like he has been wronged by the sky.

Nakahara Chu was also shocked by his whole body, wishing to kill Osamu Dazai first and then kill himself.

"Fuck me, be normal." Chuya Nakahara raised his leg and kicked him in obedience. Osamu Dazai jumped deftly. Frowning: "Why?"

Osamu Dazai didn't say a word, but his expression of intentionally disgusting person restrained before. Nakahara Chuya frowned more and more, and finally looked away, picked up the suitcase: "Okay, I know, I'll bring it for you."

Osamu Dazai watched the back of Nakahara Chuya leaving, and then watched him get into the black luxury car, the car drove all the way to the airport, he stood on the balcony and looked at the sea for a while, the blue sky, and the white ferry whining and smoking Sliding away, he encountered another ambush on the way back, and the attacker was shot into a sieve without him having to do it.

He lay on the carpet bored, waiting for the sun to set in the west, and the night was getting darker. At about eleven o'clock, he took off his coat and put it on his body. He didn't bother the driver, and drove to the bar by himself. When he arrived at the bar, there was only He was alone, and after a while, Oda Sakunosuke also opened the door.

"Has An Wu gone on a business trip? I haven't seen him for a long time."

Osamu Dazai opened a can of crab meat: "Yeah, but Odasaku, I have a hunch today—the three of us can have a drink together."

Osamu Dazai just said casually, he didn't know if he could see Ango Sakaguchi, he had made too many jokes in this bar, and it didn't matter if he made mistakes, but when he ate the third canned crab meat, he asked When the store manager asked for the fourth one, the wooden door of the bar creaked, and a person walked in slowly.

"Yeah, Ango."

The bar owner looked at them with a smile and served a glass of tomato juice. Odasaku turned his face to the side and watched Osamu Dazai inquiring about Ango Sakaguchi's recent work with great interest.

Except for low-level personnel like him, all the work of mafia members must be kept secret, let alone an intelligence officer like Ango Sakaguchi, but this rule seems to be completely invalid in bars. Ango Sakaguchi rarely refuses Osamu Dazai, but not because of him A cadre of the port mafia.

It's a more relaxed, more evasive, less burdensome reason.

"...I actually bought a nice antique watch."

Ango Sakaguchi opened the satchel.

Osamu Dazai's gaze flicked across the satchel for a short while, and then glanced lightly at Ango Sakaguchi.

The rain-drenched umbrella is on top.

He curled his lips into a smile, and the smile became more open, and then joked with Ango Sakaguchi as usual, and turned to harass the person on the right. Although Odasaku felt that his work was nothing special, he still pulled Counting them one by one with his fingers, Dazai Osamu's eyes brightened the more he listened, and asked the boss to give them an extra bottle of wine. It stands to reason that today should be the same as usual. The three of them sat at the bar until the early morning, and then separated.

Just like every ordinary night that I can't remember.

But the only special thing about that day was that Osamu Dazai asked the three of them to take a group photo together as a commemoration of the three of them getting together. It doesn't matter what the commemoration is, but it is the first time he said that he would preserve the fact that the three of them gathered here.

Oda Sakunosuke knew very well that Osamu Dazai never took pictures.

Everyone hopes to freeze a certain moment of themselves. In the era before the invention of the camera, portraits were used instead of photos. The photos Oda Saku took of his adopted children filled five albums. Dazai Zhi once went to Odasaku's house and happened to run into Odasaku playing with the camera.

"Want to take a picture, Dazai?"

"Ah, no." Osamu Dazai refused with a smile: "I will cause trouble if my photos are kept, and taking pictures is like desperately trying to keep something. I don't have anything I want to keep."

No point, no use.

Although Oda Sakunosuke felt that this was Osamu Dazai's unique fallacy, he still nodded lightly and put away the camera.

Don't pry into the hearts of others - this is an unwritten rule in the port mafia, even he and Osamu Dazai will take the initiative to bypass the place where the other's heart is covered with parcels.

Click.

Ango Sakaguchi's camera is an old-fashioned black-and-white camera, which requires long-time exposures, and people must remain motionless for more than ten seconds. The unique shortcomings of this old object unexpectedly made Osamu Dazai very fond of it.

With a flash of the lens, the color fades into black and white, and time freezes.

The three sat in front of the bar.

Ango Sakaguchi, Sakunosuke Oda, Osamu Dazai.

When Mori Ogai walked into the chief's office, his dark purple eyes widened slightly because of the unexpected guest.

The floor-to-ceiling windows are electrified, the blue sky and the sea seem to be within reach, and the European-style decorated room is brightly illuminated. Before leaving, these floor-to-ceiling windows are tightly closed.

And Osamu Dazai sat on the carpet with his back leaning on the large desk made of rosewood, his body weight pressed the fine wool carpet into a shallow pit, and there were a few heavy books scattered beside him. Taking a closer look, he found that these books were all the ones he had shown to Osamu Dazai before. The one on his lap was written by Schelling, and the other two were Nash and Kissinger.

Osamu Dazai turned his head in the direction of Mori Ogai.

There is no confrontation that has become more and more sharp in recent years, and there is no deliberate stubbornness. Osamu Dazai's fluffy and soft hair covered most of the white bandage on his forehead, and the thin outline of a boy in the growing period was softened by the sunlight projected in. Many, he lifted the oversized black coat a little bit, and quietly bent his eyes.

"...Mr. Mori, you are back."

The relationship between him and Mori Ogai is not always like walking on the tip of a knife. If he suddenly mentions Mori Ogai when Osamu Dazai is unconscious, what comes to his mind is not the man in a black coat and red The port mafia boss with the scarf, but the quack in the old white coat and the stethoscope around his neck.

Dim and messy little dilapidated clinic, locked medicine boxes, and occasionally flickering incandescent light bulbs, he used to treat patients in Mori Ogai's space, pulled the small round chair that was too high for children, and dangled He climbed up slowly, stretched his arms and tiptoed, to pick the lock of the safe.

Accidentally slipped, the chair flipped over, and then fell into the arms of the man behind him who had been watching him wrestling.

Staring at the childish round eyes, he waved his arms in protest.

At that time, Osamu Dazai didn't know anyone and had no place to go. The huge Yokohama and the Mafia were all strange and alienated to him. Only this black clinic located in a neutral area was a simple nest without brightly colored Toys, but there are delicate and transparent chemical vessels, there are no beautiful picture books, but there are thick books full of annotations.

Yokohama is close to the sea, it is rainy, and the night rain is especially abundant. Sometimes there will be strong winds, and the crackling raindrops will knock the glass loudly. The small clinic will hang a wooden sign that is temporarily closed, and Mori Ogai will sometimes take away his crabs. Canned meat, take out a dark red stone crab covered with hoarfrost from a refrigerator that is not well refrigerated.

The rain outside the clinic was densely covered with curtains, pouring like a sea, and the inside of the clinic was dry and warm, and the kotatsu was soft, and I didn’t want to get up again after lying down.

Then Mori Ogai grabbed him by the collar and brought him to the small square table to eat crabs.

Osamu Dazai never went to that clinic again, but he overheard his subordinates say that the place was completely torn down and rebuilt. Thinking about it, it was probably part of the ruins of the garbage dump, together with the utensils he had knocked countless times with glass rods .

After that, if he wanted to find Mori Ogai, he had to go through a long, long-term elevator, pass through the muzzle of a defensive gun, and pass through some guards in black suits.

Mori Ogai was stunned for a moment, telling the subordinates at the door not to panic. He closed the door, his brows and eyes gently stretched, and his voice was soft and helpless: "Dazai-kun, what do you want to see me for?"

Osamu Dazai was silent for a long time, pursed his lips, turned his face sideways, and stared at the sea outside the floor-to-ceiling windows.

"……fine."