I am a writer in the world of sorcery

In the darkness, Gojo Satoru threw out the 2617th skull out of boredom. There were such things everywhere in the prison gate. Revenge comes back - it's just too boring.

Osamu Dazai blinked at him before, smiled jokingly, then unscrewed the safe, and threw the prison gate into it mercilessly.

He was still counting the time at the beginning, and the more he counted, the more irritable he became. The feeling of being locked up alone is simply terrible. He thinks that if the prison gate is really fully activated, he must throw Osamu Dazai in and close it after he goes out. Only a few years.

If Osamu Dazai knew what Gojo Satoru was thinking, he would probably be stunned for a few seconds, and then he would laugh like crazy, but at this moment he would rather be imprisoned in prison.

Seeing Mori Ogai is absolutely exhausting, the brain is running at high speed is a test, it is a test to have reservations, and it is also a test to restrain the idea of ​​blowing up the chief's office.

However, I couldn't finish reporting these shitty things for a while, and when Osamu Dazai stood beside the rosewood table, he made a concluding remark with a blank expression: "...that's all."

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the moon had turned to the west of the sky, the surroundings were quiet, and there were few pedestrians on the road. Osamu Dazai felt uncomfortable and straightened his collar: "Mr. Mori, I'm going back first."

Without waiting for Mori Ogai's persuasion to speak, he walked out of the chief's office without taking the elevator, with his hands in his pockets, the sound of footsteps echoing in the stairwell, and then turned to open the door ——As soon as Gojo Satoru saw the light of day again, he realized that the tiredness of the man in front of him could hardly be concealed.

He thought about it for a long time and suddenly forgot all about it.

Osamu Dazai took the prison door out of the safe, opened the mechanism again, and restored the room. Taking advantage of this opportunity, Gojo Satoru finally caught a glimpse of the vertical bronze bell on the wall.

Four in the morning.

What is this, Gojo Wujo thought, even if he is a Mafia cadre, he can't sleep at four o'clock in the morning. What's so good about being such a cadre?

Obviously when he saw this person for the first time, he was still alive and kicking, and it was written all over his body that he was bored and wanted to have some fun, why did he become like this?Gojo Satoru thought again, since it is the same to you wherever you stay, why bother yourself?I am a lazy guy myself, why do I have to stay in this kind of place?

But Osamu Dazai couldn't give him the answer, and Gojo Satoru himself knew the answer.

It's nothing more than his willingness.

He just wanted to toss himself half to death and die young, which was Osamu Dazai's long-cherished wish in his life.

Osamu Dazai stuffed the prison gate back into his pocket. To his surprise, the prison gate was too quiet, but he just locked it in the safe for a few hours. Dazai pointed it with his fingertips with interest Knocking on the forehead, I feel like I have a weird pet.

On the way back, he drove by himself. The prison gate was wet and greasy to the touch, wriggling very slightly, and icy and cold to the touch. With tiny tentacles, it was like a strange existence in the deep sea. He felt his scalp go numb, and he even felt a little inexplicably worried.

He shouldn't have thought Gojo Satoru was a monster before, but he looked so normal in comparison, he thought.

Osamu Dazai placed the prison gate in front of the windshield again. Gojo Satoru changed his perspective and finally had the opportunity to observe the city. It was indeed completely different from the Yokohama he had been to. The rain did not stop at night, and the raindrops fell It didn't take long for the glass of the car to fade away, and the yellow lights of the street lights passed by one by one. Osamu Dazai held the steering wheel with one hand, and his iris-colored pupils were bright and dark.

He watched for a while, but the man suddenly stepped on the brakes, and the prison gate rolled down, was caught by a hand, and swung back again.

Osamu Dazai turned around and drove back.

Gojo Satoru frowned, staring at Dazai Osamu's calm face, thinking what are you driving around in the middle of the night?It's quite leisurely, the good work and rest that you have developed before are all over?

Soon he realized that Dazai Osamu did not go for a drive on a whim, but changed the direction at all, which was exactly the opposite of the previous direction. The further the car drove, the more dilapidated the surrounding area, the houses became shorter and shorter, and sheds gradually appeared. , and then drive forward even the cement road is gone.

Seeing the prison gate being tossed back and forth and almost falling again, Osamu Dazai finally stopped the car, picked up the small square frame, stretched the tentacles around his wrist, circled around, and suddenly did not move. up.

Gojo Satoru suddenly opened his eyes wide, speechless.

--Landfill.

In front of him was a huge garbage dump, with messy shipping containers piled up like corpses, the bare soil was abnormally gray and black, and it was barren. Even though he knew that this person couldn't hear him, he still couldn't help but say: " What are you doing in a place like this?"

Osamu Dazai casually jumped over a tattered refrigerator, wearing a black coat, the hem of which was rattling by the wind. Gojo Satoru didn't know why, but he was just angry—especially angry. An arm and foot were pulled out from the collar.

"What the hell are you?" He asked inexplicably.

"I would like to know what you are going to do." Gojo Gojo raised his voice a little more angrily.

"Okay, stop making trouble." Osamu Dazai said to himself, "I'm already very tired."

So if you are tired and don't go home to rest, do you want to go to the garbage dump to pick up garbage?What kind of organization are you staying in? It's really like what you said, no money was collected by the bank?But during the day, you don’t look like you’re poor when you shoot guns——

Gojo Satoru's mental activity came to an abrupt halt.

He was stunned for a moment.

Osamu Dazai stopped in front of a large container used for transporting cars. He flicked the latch with his fingers. With a click, the door of the box opened. He reached out and pressed the light bulb. This container contains refrigerators, ventilation fans, tables and chairs, and bedding.

He watched the man close the box door calmly, opened the swivel chair and sat on it, resting his elbows on the tabletop, and there was no movement. After a while, he opened the drawer again, and took out a cigarette from the cigarette box. Holding the cigarette filter between his fingers, the smoke diffused in the space bit by bit, so he turned on the ventilator again.

Gojo Satoru was so angry and hurt that he didn't even think about scolding Osamu Dazai for being sick. He stepped on the skulls all over the ground, walked back and forth in the dark, and threw a few spells into the void from time to time. .

For the last time, he threw a shovel directly in front of him, if it wasn't for Prison Gate, it would have hit Osamu Dazai directly.

Are you sick?

Live well, what's wrong?

He knew that this place was probably not where Osamu Dazai usually lived, maybe it was just a safe house, but a normal person shouldn't live in a container at all, even a small basement is better than a container in a garbage dump.

But all of this is Dazai Osamu's own decision, he can't live in a high-end apartment, but he wants to come here, just like a stray cat who can't keep a high-end cat nest, but wants to sleep in a cardboard box.

Even though Gojo Satoru was confined to the prison gate, he knew that this person didn't need to live like this. Before he went to Osamu Dazai's apartment near Tokyo Station, he threw things in a mess, and this person just didn't bother to clean up. But the scene inside the container was very different from that apartment, there was nothing.

He almost hated Osamu Dazai for making himself live like this.

Repressed.

Overwhelming and overwhelmingly oppressive.

One cannot save a person who refuses to be saved, not to mention that this person is Dazai Osamu, no one can force his will on him, Gojo Satoru didn't know before-although Dazai Osamu was very wrong at that time, he was not the same as the current situation. Lifeless was completely different, it was the first time he really saw this person's self-destructive desire, it was not because of boredom that he decided to give up life at all.

—he just didn't want to live.

— That's all.

Gojo Satoru felt quite uncomfortable inside the prison gate where only he was alone, but the man outside acted indifferent. He sat on this chair for a while, and felt uncomfortable, so he simply lay down on the bed, holding a book in a red cover Gojo Satoru took a look at the book, and his breath suddenly suffocated, like a cat with fur.

There are several large characters written on the red cover.

"completely**"

He tried to manipulate the prison gate, and climbed up the bedposts. Osamu Dazai was watching with relish, with his long legs crossed and swaying from time to time.

[What a masterpiece...]

A sticky tentacle suddenly stretched out, smacked onto his face, and two more tentacles slapped the pages of the book, and the mucus immediately wrinkled the paper.

Osamu Dazai frowned, picked up the tentacles, and threw them away casually.

Gojo Satoru: ...

Osamu Dazai moved like a trash panda rubbing carrots in water. He carefully wiped the book with his shirt sleeve. When he was interrupted by this, the thought of continuing to read disappeared—the main thing was a headache, and the pain spread like a bone. Seams are hurting, it should be lack of sleep.

Annoyed, bored, unreal.

Osamu Dazai's eyelids kept twitching, and he had a splitting headache. In fact, he has always been in good physical condition, with a lot of wounds, but he seldom gets sick. It can be seen from the fact that he is still alive and kicking after so many suicides. He knows very well that he needs sleep at this moment. Every nerve was throbbing.

But even so, he was terribly tired and terribly awake.

[Ah, what a mess. ] He complained internally.

Gojo Satoru watched contentedly as Osamu Dazai turned off the light, lay down on the bed and closed his eyes, folded his hands into his sleeves, and stared at Osamu Dazai's face. He felt that he should wait for this man to fall asleep, and take a good rest. Sort out the thoughts in your head, at least don't make yourself so uncomfortable.

... Waiting for another hour.

Osamu Dazai lay motionless, with a calm expression, breathing lightly and slowly. If the person observing him was not Gojo Satoru, he would probably have thought that this person had fallen into a deep sleep, but everything that Six Eyes saw told him that Osamu Dazai was always awake. too much.

Gojo Satoru was restless waiting, but he saw this man sitting up quietly, his eyelids half-closed, and his kite-colored pupils were out of focus, deep and empty.

He opened the small drawer under the table, took out a white medicine bottle without looking at it, poured some round pills into his palm, and swallowed them all, without drinking water, just looked up indifferently. I fell down on the bed, still feeling no mood swings.

The label attached to the medicine bottle was very small, and it was full of densely packed words. Gojo Satoru was struggling to read the ingredient list under the light.

[… Zaleplon? ]