Port Mafia executives have something to say

The author has something to say:

...Little cuties, did you see the title?

Hey, since you are all mentally prepared, what else can I say [Top the pot cover]

[IF line extra]

【Parallel World Space Theory】

【All pots belong to Bailan】

[Tian Tian Xing is so sweet, why would she shoot a knife?]

[Yes, I've been stabbed] "I'm so tired——"

On the third floor of the inpatient department of the Affiliated Hospital of Yokohama City University, a white-clothed nurse with two braids stretched limply. She had been working overtime for a week and beat her sore shoulders. There is a familiar figure in the garden below.

"That is……?"

The name of the homeless orphan who was sent here before seems to be... Shen Haijing?

Why is that child sitting there alone, what if the wound is infected... Really, children nowadays are really worrying.

In the future, when she and Mr. Gao Jing have a child...

Thinking of this, she involuntarily stroked her lower abdomen, turned around and walked towards the elevator after a while without hesitation.

However, he opened his eyes wide the moment the elevator door opened, and took half a step back in horror.

"Suzuki Shizuko, right?"

The strange man in a black suit asked without emotion, but he didn't really intend to get an answer, but raised the gun that was still warm in his hand.

The bloody afterglow of the sunset in Yokohama finally lost the last glimmer of hope.

……

In the depths of the alley, the ragged child clutched the festering wound on his chest, and he tried his best to leave the hiding place on crutches.

There had just been a fierce shootout over something, with two Yokohama-based groups: the Port Mafia, and the Takase Society as both sides of the war.

However, less than 5 minutes after the start of the war, the population of both sides was deprived of flesh and internal organs from the waist down, and lost their lives before they could even scream. The bloody color, can not see the original dirty appearance.

"..."

"This is really unexpected."

The sound of slow footsteps gradually approached, and a foreign boy with exquisite appearance walked in slowly from the alley.He admired the hell-like scene in front of him with great interest, closed his eyes and wrinkled his nose like an innocent child, and sniffed. It doesn't make a difference.

As the saying goes, flowers and blood are treated equally.

As the saying goes, crime and punishment lead to the same goal.

"Hiding behind the trash can is not good for wound recovery, can you please come out?"

Of course, no one answered.

The boy sighed in disappointment.He seemed to be polite when he sighed, and the restrained sense of loss followed his breathing, which could arouse pity, that kind of mood that couldn't bear to reject him.

"Well, since I don't have the honor, see you next time, dear little sir."

The sound of footsteps gradually faded away, faint, until they could no longer be heard.

About half a minute later, a dirty child poked his head out from behind the trash can to look around, but happened to meet a pair of deep and disorderly dark purple eyes.

He shrank back in fright, stopped for some reason, and stared blankly at the face of the boy who thought he had already left, puzzled and disappointed.

"Oh," the boy tilted his head and looked at him, then took out his phone and clicked a few times, the cold light of the white screen made his eyes even more empty.

Then he showed a gentle, sweet but captivating smile like a cannibal flower to the wary child.

"Beijing?"

He stretched out his hand to Shen Haijing who was standing there dumbfounded, as if the gods were finally willing to take pity on the world again and accept his long-lost lamb again.

"Poor kid. I'm sorry I only came to pick you up now."

"It must have been a long wait?"

Shen Haijing showed a visibly shaken expression, but at least he still had a hint of vigilance towards strangers, or this was the last warning issued by his brain when he was faced with a life-and-death decision.

The voice that has not eaten and drank well for many days has become hoarse and ugly: "I... don't remember you."

"I'm Fedya."

Dostoevsky withdrew the smile on his face, "Do you still remember how you called me, Shen Haijing?"

Shen Haijing, whose name was called out, felt a severe headache for a moment, but the cold expression of the person in front of him made him even more panicked, the old wound on his chest was still tormenting him, all kinds of oppression mixed together made him cry out subconsciously Out of the original most rely on the most familiar name.

"Master Bailan...?"

wrong!He is not...!

But... no, this is not right!but his eyes...

"wrong."

"If you make a wrong call again, I will throw you away," Dostoevsky put away his smile and warned coldly with his purple eyes, "Who is the 'I' now, repeat it again."

"..."

The discussion about the truth in my mind continued to talk and entangle, but it was finally suppressed by the screams of fear of "I will be abandoned" and "I don't want to be alone anymore".

Shen Haijing blankly recalled the name the boy in front of him had said to him.

Beautiful purple eyes.

however--

This person...is definitely not...Master Bai Lan.

...But this person said that he came to pick me up, to pick up "Shen Hai Jing" to leave here, to leave this gloomy, cruel, and painful place.

He staggered out holding on to the trash can, clutching his almost rotten wound, and hastily covered the yellowish-white pus with his hands, as if trying to preserve a bit of dignity for himself.

But Shen Haijing's description at this time is beyond the mere words "wretched". The wound on his chest can be called fatal, hovering over his body like a crow on the left shoulder of the god of death, not to mention he hasn't bathed for several days. Still mingling in the alleys of such a dirty place, the smell on his body makes even stray cats unwilling to approach him.

However, Dostoevsky did not show the slightest disgust. He just smiled calmly and looked at the child who stretched out his hand with a smile.

"I can... kill you in an instant," the other party said.

"..."

Indeed.

thought Dostoevsky.

There were a total of 37 corpses in the audience, and they were still the action troops organized by the gang with live ammunition. If these people were not wiped out in an instant, how could the other party continue to walk around like this?

He observed the messy muddy footprints on the ground and the direction in which the body fell, only to judge that this was a seriously injured person.

From the shape and height of the cut wounds of those people, it can be deduced that this is a child.

Although he has no prejudice against gender, if such a cruel act was done by a lovely lady, it would be too feminine and gentle.

As for the rest of the information...

Don't underestimate the hacking skills of the leader of the thieves group [Rats of the Dead House], find out the relevant time and place from the dirty hospital gown and the degree of ulceration of the wound on the opponent's body, and then find "Shen Hai Jing" The identity of this person is really a piece of cake.

Coupled with having such ability but being reduced to such a bleak end, this child's character can also be speculated from this.

This is Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky, before him the human heart is as fragile and fragile as a transparent glass.Even more frightening is that he has no empathy for those broken and defective products.

This is how this young man is called, and in Siberia, people are chilling like walking on thin ice——

【Magic】

……

"You are not... Lord Bai Lan."

However, Shen Haijing commented on him like this, "It's just, weak and pitiful... a flower... not worth mentioning..."

Obviously the other party was neatly dressed and calm, which was in stark contrast to his own feelings, but what Shen Haijing said was not guilty at all.

He has never seen anyone who can survive under [V].

"Flowers...?"

Dostoevsky withdrew his hand that extended the invitation, and finally showed a flustered expression when he looked at the child in front of him.

"Unfortunately, you guessed wrong, I'm not such a wonderful thing. It's just a mere..."

"It's just a mouse."

The young man who came from the cold winter smiled softly like spring, and approached without caring about the other party's resistance.

His tone was so soft that he seemed afraid of scaring the other party, and it seemed that he was pouring out his heart to an unknown existence, or he was describing a painting made of butterfly wings. Be careful and careful, and blowing more breaths may make the wonderful Shengjing fell away.

"I like you very much."

Dostoevsky said.

"You, this powerful and loving force, are so cruel when you treat human beings who offend you. When you punish this crime, you are all equal and ruthless. Such behavior..."

He deliberately used words like "human beings", and as expected, he saw the pupils of the other party shrinking for a moment.

"Like, god."

"!!!"

The other party took a few steps back in panic, and the scrutiny, longing, and deepest fear could not be seen on his face.But just when Shen Haijing was about to retreat into the shadow of the corner, someone grabbed his wrist, which was so thin that only a handful of bones remained.

"open……!"

"What if I refuse? Are you going to send down the punishment of killing me, just like those people?"

Dostoevsky tilted his head, gesturing to what could only be called fragmentary corpses on the ground.

"Did they offend you? Let me guess, were they trying to kill you who were just passing by innocently?"

Dostoevsky showed a little innocent look on his face, and it must be said that his dahlia-like appearance in full bloom gave him a lot of credibility.

"I just want to take you home."

Shen Haijing struggled silently a few more times, but the weakening strength almost showed his attitude.

After all, no matter how powerful you are, resisting on the verge of dying from a serious injury is just a dying struggle.

No matter how bad the situation is, how bad can it go?

It wasn't until the child stopped moving and nestled in his arms obediently like a kitten, that Dostoevsky let go of the other's hand, and said softly:

"Remember my name?"

"... Fedya."

He laughed again.

"You have suffered enough in this world, Jing. Now, it's time to pick you up."

……

Six years later—

"careful!"

Atsushi Nakajima reached out and grabbed the young man who seemed to be teetering on the zebra crossing. Between the gaps in the long dark blue hair that was left almost to the waist, he stared numbly at the boy who was supporting him with dull eyes.

He was almost hit by a car, but his expression didn't fluctuate at all. Could it be someone like Mr. Dazai who wanted to commit suicide?

Nakajima Atsushi helped him to sit on a bench by the street with some worry.

By the way, is the other party a mixed race?

Both temperament and appearance are very outstanding and unique, those thin gray eyes looked towards him, like a lifeless doll with a beautiful appearance... No, no, how can you be so disgusted with strangers? What a faux pas!

Atsushi Nakajima shook his head desperately, and he didn't stop until he felt that those "disrespectful thoughts" had been shaken out of his mind. He looked at the young man opposite who still had no expression fluctuations, and asked tentatively:

"Are you all right?"

The young man was silent, and after a while, he seemed to realize that the other party was talking to him, shook his head at Atsushi Nakajima, and spoke with some difficulty.

"I'm... fine... don't worry."

I don't know if it's been a long time since he spoke, but his voice was very weak, with a cautiousness like walking on a high-altitude steel wire.

Don't say it's "very good", this obviously looks like a very bad look.

Atsushi Nakajima thought subconsciously.

But he is also a shy person who is not good at words. Although he is very worried about the other party's health, he can't say more words of advice. After all, the two parties are just strangers who just met by chance.

"Thank you."

The beautiful puppet whispered.Perhaps because he opened his mouth, his way of speaking gradually became more proficient.

He took out something from the shopping bag in his hand, and held it in front of Atsushi Nakajima with both hands, "I don't have anything else on me, this is for you."

"It's the fruit I bought when I was running errands for my family. Please try it too."

Ah, when it comes to family members, I have somewhat more reactions than before.He must have loved his family very much.In this case, the possibility of taking the initiative to commit suicide has also decreased a lot. After all, not everyone is like that gentleman...

While thinking about it, Atsushi Nakajima accepted the thank you gift forced by the other party.

It is a bright red apple.

He couldn't help picking it up and took a bite, his eyes lit up: "It's so sweet!"

"I picked it myself." The puppet youth smiled at Atsushi Nakajima, "Then I will take my leave first, I wish you..."

"Longevity."

……

Atsushi Nakajima gnawed on an apple and walked on the road, still thinking about the strange Mr. Doll he saw just now.

I went out to buy fruit for my family, but I was almost hit by a car on the street. I won’t mention you. When I said goodbye at the end, I used a strange congratulatory speech...

Well, it can't be said to be strange.But in daily life, it is indeed very rare to meet occasions where the adjective "longevity" is needed... Ah, but it can be used for this person!

Dun trotted all the way, walked down the stone steps, and stepped into a secluded place facing the sea.

The cold stone tablet, pale in death and emerald green in life, faces the amazing sea shining in the sun.

This is a cemetery.

"There's another place like this in Yokohama—"

The young man who didn't know what he was about to face was sighing softly against the sea breeze.

·

·

"Have you come back yet?"

The silky and smooth tone sounded just before knocking on the door. The Russian who had grown from a boy to a handsome man opened the door. Seeing the blue-haired young man silently holding up an apple for himself to see, he laughed happily. .

"Thank you for your hard work."

"In this way, your last work will be completed."

Without hesitation, he said cruel and ruthless words to the person involved, and Dostoevsky smiled and invited him into the room.

"It's a little crude, but it's also my farewell banquet for you."

The house is snow white.

Light and floating like clouds.

Because it exudes an overly sweet smell, it is so sweet that it even makes people feel a little nauseated.

Cotton candy scattered all over the place.

"Just enjoy this banquet here, and don't leave even one step until the end."

What was Dostoyevsky thinking in his heart when he gently stroked the cool blue hair?

Is it the perfect ending after looking forward to it?

How many times would you feel unbearable and regretful about the young man who was coaxed by you to go to the realm of death, the so-called "family" who has been with you for so many years?

Or are you happy that Shen Haijing has finally embarked on his due return journey?

Or, think nothing at all.

Just purely looking forward to the coming, sweet and delicious——

【Dead Apple】