[Zhongyingmei] Today I also survived

Hannibal's laughter was very clear in the quiet room, he straightened up and looked at the young man sitting in front of him.

"Relax, Ivan." Hannibal took two steps back, opening the distance between himself and Ivan.

"Don't be so nervous, you can let go of your crutch," Hannibal said, "I won't eat you again, at least not now."

Hannibal's words did not prevent Ivan from letting go of his grip on the crutches, but instead made Ivan subconsciously grasp the crutches again.

"So what are you here for today?" Hannibal looked at Ivan, "After all, judging from your words and deeds, you are full of aggressiveness today."

"What do you think? Mr. Lecter." Ivan looked at the watch on his wrist, and then stood up on crutches.

"Next, Agent Graham may hear a lot of unfriendly news for you," Ivan said, "I hope you can be prepared."

"That was really exciting," Hannibal looked at Ivan, "I began to consider the possibility of letting you stay, of course forever."

Hannibal's smile made Ivan's palm wet, and the young man twitched his mouth.

"He wanted to kill you." Ann said to Ivan.

"I'm sure I'm not that stupid in your eyes," Ivan said. "If I don't go back, I'm sure Agent Graham will hear something about Abigail."

Hannibal watched Ivan walk to the door: "Is this a declaration of war?"

"Maybe." Ivan opened the door, and he turned to look at Hannibal, "Mr. Lecter, the monster will be caught one day, it's just a matter of time."

"Really?" Hannibal's voice sounded just as Ivan was about to leave the room, "What about that monster from your childhood? Ivan, has he been caught?"

After a brief silence, Ivan's voice sounded.

"Have a great day and see you next time, Mr. Lecter."

Standing in front of the elevator door on the eleventh floor, Leinar kept looking at his watch. Seventeen minutes had passed, and the red-haired youth hadn't come down yet.

After the hands of the watch moved twice again, Leinard finally exhausted all his patience.

"Damn it," Lionel pressed the button outside the elevator, "I'm going up now and taking that guy named Hannibal Lecter to the police station."

The door of the elevator opened, and Lionel was impatiently planning to step into the elevator.When he looked up, Ivan was standing in the elevator on crutches and looking at him.

"Oh," Lionel blinked, "you came down, I almost thought something happened to you."

Ivan looked at the fat detective standing in front of the elevator door, and then said, "Aren't you going?"

Lionel reacted, and he hurried into the elevator: "Did no one say you were indifferent? I was worried about you just now."

"Thank you for your concern." The young man's answer was insincere and sounded extremely perfunctory.

"You know what," Leinal muttered dissatisfiedly, "You're just like that mean old lady in the fast food restaurant across from the police station."

The elevator soon reached the first floor. Ivan walked out of the elevator with a cane. He stood at the hotel entrance and took out his mobile phone to send a text message.

"What's the next plan?" Lenal came over and asked.

"If you're not in a hurry to get back to the police station," Ivan said, "can you take me to the FBI building?"

One o'clock in the afternoon, FBI building.

Will just returned to the FBI from the scene of the murder. The murderer of this case is quite obvious, the murderer who escaped from Washington.

The targets of that guy's attacks were all young men. He was happy to smash the skulls of those young men with a hammer, and then put them into exquisite suits. The whole murder scene was filled with a distorted sense of solemnity.

Will looked at the photo of the murder scene in his hand. There was a circle of white roses around the corpse, which made the head of the corpse, which looked like a rotten watermelon, particularly dazzling.

"Agent Graham," Will said as soon as he walked upstairs, a female detective came over, "There is a Mr. Ivan Bird waiting for you."

Will froze for a moment. He looked in the direction of the female agent's finger. Ivan was sitting on a chair not far from the corridor.

"Ivan," Will walked over, he looked at Ivan's injured hands and feet, and then led Ivan to his office, "What's wrong with you?"

"There was an accident." Ivan walked into the office after Will, and then sat on the chair opposite the desk. "I was injured a little, nothing serious."

"What do you want from me?" Will helped Ivan pour a cup of black tea.

Ivan looked at the black tea in front of him, then raised his head.

"You have encephalitis." The young man used an affirmative tone, not a question sentence at all.

Will's movements paused, he glanced at Ivan, and then sat on the chair.In an instant, he thought of the person who had stuffed a letter to himself in the hospital today, and his voice was exactly the same as Ivan's.

"You gave me that letter." Will looked at the young man opposite, "You were also the one who sent me text messages and flowers before?"

"I hope you understand that I have no malicious intent." Ivan said, "And I told you before that I am a mutant, and I can read other people's memories."

"Send an anonymous text message to an FBI agent, send an anonymous letter," Will said coldly, "Your behavior can completely make me arrest you."

"Agent Graham," Ivan looked at Will, "I know you have encephalitis because I read someone's memory, and I also learned some news about the Shrike in Minnesota."

Will heard Ivan on the opposite side ask himself: "Don't you want to know whose memory I read?"

The office fell into silence, and Will stared at Ivan, as if he was measuring the credibility of what the young man said.

"Who is it?" Will finally said.

"Hannibal Lecter," Ivan replied, "he already guessed that what you have is encephalitis, but he is deliberately leading you to believe that you have mental problems."

"Impossible," Will refuted Ivan's words almost instantly. "It's encephalitis. I haven't been to the hospital for an examination. Hannibal couldn't have known about it long ago."

"Ha," Ivan heard Ann say, "that guy's sense of smell is too sensitive, he can smell it, although it sounds really outrageous."

"One more thing," Evan said, "about the Minnesota Shrike killing his own family."

Ivan was silent for a while, and he looked at the FBI who had obviously changed his face because of the name Minnesota Shrike.

"He got a call before he killed his own family," Ivan stared into Will's eyes, "just after you and Hannibal Lecter found out the real identity of the Shrike, the man told him that you have His identity was found."

"What nonsense are you talking about?" Will shook his head. "When the Minnesota Shrike was identified, it was only me and Hannibal. It was impossible for anyone to tip him off."

Ivan looked at Will: "Indeed, only you and Hannibal Lecter know his identity. You can't be the one who tipped off the news."

Will understood Ivan's hint, but he didn't believe it at all.

"What are you implying? You mean the tipper was Hannibal?" Will stood up. "Ivan Bird, are you crazy? Why did Hannibal tell the Shrike we know about him?" identity of."

"What do you think? Detective," Ivan looked up at Will, "on the surface, he does have no reason to tip off the Shrike. However, I believe he is quite happy to see the Shrike kill his family. "

"Impossible, he has no reason to do this!"

"Actually, Agent, he has good reasons," Ivan said, "He's a psychopath, he kills, he eats, and he does all that to irritate you, and he wants you to be like him .”

"This is an unfounded guess!" Will raised his voice.

"Detective," Ivan stood up, "observe Hannibal Lecter carefully, you will find something is wrong. As for the evidence, I will find it."

"You have to be extremely careful, Agent Graham." Ivan walked to the door and said, "Hannibal Lecter is a complete devil, don't fall into his trap again."

The youth left, and Will took a step back, slumping down on his chair.He had to admit that he was shaken, and in fact everything Hannibal had done for a long time in the past seemed to be deliberately disturbing his mental state.

After sitting frozen in the chair for a long time, Will finally moved. He picked up his mobile phone and dialed a number.

"Help me check the phone calls Garrett Jacob Hobbs received on the day I shot him dead, whether it's his cell phone or his home phone."

Ivan was standing downstairs in the FBI building. The phone in his pocket rang. He took it out and took a look. It was a message from Finch.

It's not good news. There are few substantial clues and evidence in Baltimore.

Ivan stuffed his mobile phone back into his coat pocket, and leaned on crutches to go to the side of the road to hail a taxi.

"I told you," Ann said, "Hannibal Lecter won't leave any evidence. He seemed to have obsessive-compulsive disorder when he killed people. He made the scene clean."

"I guessed it," Ivan said, "but the original intention of people going to Baltimore to check him was not to find clues, but just to let him know that I was checking him. This is a step in the plan to anger him."

"Although I've said it before," Ann sighed, "it doesn't stop me from saying it again, I really think you're not far from death."

Ivan's cell phone rang again, and he took it out to have a look. He didn't recognize the number that sent the message.

The message was very short, only a few words, and these few words instantly made Ivan guess who sent the message.

"Ivan, remember to go to the hospital to change your dressing today." Ann read out the content of the text message, "Oh, Ivan, this is probably the first message you have received over the years to care about your health."