My brother is not a good person

Military artificial abilities.

Trial work A No. [-].

"Desolate bully spit".

The boy who suddenly appeared and disappeared reminded Nakahara of the starting point of his memory.

The explosion that created today's Surabachi Street.

And the only person who knows the truth - Rimbaud, has gone overseas with all the secrets and has not returned yet.

Although the other party often writes letters to themselves and treats themselves as close as juniors, both of them are very clear that this is far from enough.

People will always want to pursue their past.

It is like a root, something that can stop people from wandering around.

Ordinary human beings rely on history, on memory.

And there is no way to explore in the Central Plains.

The only clues were the original owner of the hat and everything he knew.

Now, however, new clues have emerged.

The appearance of that boy who is exactly the same as himself gave all this a new direction of exploration.

No matter who saw that teenager, it was impossible to deny their connection.

But how could he appear here?

Zhong Yuanzhong also carefully inspected the ground where the boy stood on just now.

Nothing at all.

Even footprints.

After confirming that he got nothing from this trip, Zhong Yuan also picked up his mobile phone.

The mobile phones distributed to the cadres by the port mafia are naturally not damaged, but the call just now has been interrupted.

He called the public relations officer again.

"I encountered some things just now, but I didn't encounter fog."

Zhong Yuanzhong also hammered the wall beside him a little angrily.

With the fist landing point as the center of the circle, circles of cracks cracked on the wall.

"Where are you now? The old world?"

"Still on the way." The PR officer slowed down, "See you in the old world."

Even if they are using mobile phones that are commonly used within the organization, they will not say the part that has a great connection with their peers during the call.

After all, this is entirely Zhongyuan Zhongye's personal information, and it can even be said to be of great importance.

When the leader was Mori Ogai, this point has become a consensus in the flag meeting, even if the leader is now replaced by Osamu Dazai.

For Central Plains Zhongye, this tacit understanding is naturally not lacking.

He kicked away the gravel falling from the wall irritably, and replied lightly, "See you in the old world."

Terminating the call, he walked out of the alley with one hand in his pocket.

The twilight is dark without a single star.

Thick clouds covered the entire sky.

Along the way, only street lamps are still struggling to support, trying to illuminate the road ahead.

The young Mr. Cadres is upset, but his destination is very clear.

He jumped onto the roof and headed straight for the old world in the night.

Pushing open the door of the old billiards bar, Zhongyuan Zhong also failed to see the public relations officer who originally said he wanted to meet him in the old world.

What greeted him was only a delicate letter on the pool table.

Maybe it hasn't arrived yet?Where did this letter come from?

Zhong Yuanzhong also picked up the letter and pulled out the letter paper.

[Breathing is a natural disaster, a god whose heart beats.

You are alone and no one can understand you.

Neither god nor man, you will die struggling between the two.

If you don't come to me. 】

The words written in beautiful italics made Nakahara Chuya's heart skip a beat.

He has always had excellent control over his body, otherwise he would not have become one of the best physical masters.

But at this moment, his fingers were trembling almost imperceptibly.

Is it because of the fear of death?of course not.

As early as when he swore allegiance to the port mafia to the former leader Mori Ogai, he was already prepared to die.

At this moment, he was just quite excited, excited that the whole picture of the puzzle could finally be revealed in front of him.

As for the other parts involved in this text...

Even though he has always known that he is just a safety device for Huangbatu, like a sticker pasted on the lid to seal it, he also firmly believes that he is a person, a person with personality.

If he had just joined the port mafia and touched the edge of the "Huangba spit" incident, he would still have doubts about this fact, but now, after three years of investigation, he has long been unshakable.

Central Plains is also a real human being.

This is an undoubted fact.

Apart from this nonsense, is there nothing left?

Checking the letter paper over and over again, Zhong Yuan finally found a candle, lit it and brought the letter paper close to the fire source.

As the temperature rises, so does the message hidden on the stationery.

[Soon, I will come to pick you up.

Before that, I will erase the existence that stands between us one by one.

Your brother - Paul Verlaine]

Seeing this, Zhong Yuan realized that the PR officer might not have arrived yet, but had encountered something more dangerous than the mist.

He hurriedly took out his mobile phone and called everyone in the banner meeting one by one.

However no one answered.

However, friends who are all as capable as cadres are in danger enough to make it impossible for me to contact them...

What about Laisha who is far away in Saitama?

With trembling hands, Mr. Cadre pressed down the series of numbers he had memorized by heart one by one.

The long "toot—" sound is particularly obvious in the quiet night.

And the trivial thing of waiting for the other party to answer the phone seems to be a kind of torture.

It's like Schrödinger's cat.

He will continue to endure this torture until the other party connects.

After No.11 beeped, the call was finally connected.

"Who is it, please? Is there anything wrong with calling so late?" The girl's familiar voice was full of sleepiness.

She sounded so weak that she didn't throw a tantrum about being woken up in the middle of the night.

It wasn't until Laisha got through to her phone that Nakahara Zhongya breathed a sigh of relief.

He relaxed and slumped on the sofa, "Sorry for disturbing your sleep."

"Ah...it's Chuya."

It sounded like Raisha was happy, but the happiness always seemed so weak compared to her usual speech.

"If it's Chuya... do you want to find me?"

Her voice on the other end of the phone suddenly became muffled, as if she was wrapped in a quilt.

"Don't say there's nothing wrong. If there's really nothing wrong, Chuya wouldn't call me."

Zhong Yuanzhong also gave a wry smile, pursed his lips, "There are indeed some things..."

He paused for a moment, completely at a loss as to how to explain the ins and outs to her.

Even after he finished speaking, the other party might be frightened.

Even if she can accept that she is a port mafia, it doesn't mean that she can also accept that she came from a laboratory.

But is it really okay not to say it?

"Or do you want me to pay more attention to my own safety?"

The voice on the phone complained.

"That's too much, Chuya, you drove me to Saitama, aren't you relieved?"

She seemed cold and her voice was trembling.

"Is there nothing else you want to tell me?"

But what should I say?

Whether the current situation in Yokohama allows him to spare time to come to Qihui and everyone will talk about it, let alone go to Saitama to meet her and explain these things clearly.

It is better to solve these troubles together in Yokohama.

Zhong Yuan also lay on his back on the sofa, putting the back of his hand on his forehead.

"Are you hurt?" He didn't say anything about the letter after all, "Your voice doesn't sound right."

The dumpling named Raisha huddled on the bed, wrapping herself tightly with two quilts.

She rubbed the quilt next to her ears to wipe off the sweat from her temples.

"...not injured, and nothing special."

The girl pulled the quilt to cover her head, hesitated and said: "It's just a menstrual period. It doesn't hurt, but it's cold."

It was a cold that could spread from the inside of the body to the extremities.

Even so, she still sweats.

Cold sweat, like freshly melted snow, protruded densely from the back of the forehead.

Very annoying.

Miss Champion pursed her mouth, suddenly feeling aggrieved.

There are many things she hates, but nothing is more annoying than being alone.

But now she has only herself.

The younger brother ran faster than anyone else, and the boyfriend was far away in Yokohama, so he didn't even want to tell her what happened.

What a nuisance.

"Chuya?" Laisha pulled the quilt tighter, "Is there anything else?"

The boy replied dryly: "No, no."

"Then... good night, Chuya."

"Good night."

Although it was uncomfortable, it was a pleasant surprise to receive a "good night".

Miss Champion decided not to hold the other party responsible for waking her up, and continued to huddle under the quilt.

It wasn't until daylight that Laisha got out of the quilt, took a hot shower, and went to see Saitama's ice rink as planned.

Wearing a long-sleeved coat and not forgetting to put on her brother's fur-collar cape, she picked up the fedora hanging on the coat rack and put it on her head.

There are not many ice rinks in Saitama, and it is easy to find them according to the map.

Raisha just stepped into the door of the first ice rink, and the owner of the ice rink was notified by the front desk and rushed to her.

The middle-aged man boasted about the advantages of his ice rink, trying to win Raisha's favor, and even said "we will never charge you any fees".

"But aren't you just planning to attract guests under the banner of an Olympic champion trained in this ice rink?"

Laisha, who was expressionless, glanced at him extremely coldly without even lifting her eyelids.

"Since this is the case, you shouldn't be taking my money. Instead, you should sign a contract with me and give me enough advertising fees."

The boss was dumbfounded, and at the same time was frozen in place by her gaze.

Seeing her walking towards the ice rink without looking back, he hurriedly followed, overthrowing all his previous thoughts, and actually came up with some serious conditions.

After finalizing the details of the contract with the owner of the ice rink, Laisha sat in the office as usual, huddled into a ball, waiting for the owner to bring the contract.

The office door opened and closed.

A little black ball with white hair around its neck raised its head blankly.

The visitor is not just middle-aged and has become the owner of the ice rink in the Mediterranean Sea.

It was a tall and handsome young man who looked like a Nordic god.

He is blond and blue-eyed and is wearing a crisp white suit.

The young man kept approaching, "Are you 'Laisha Mikhailovna Dostoyevskaya'?"

"If there is no second Laisha, I should be right."

Miss Champion stretched out her hand and rested her chin.

"It's really hard to be tall... Is it convenient for you to squat and talk with me? Also, what's your name?"

"Paul Verlaine."

The young man curled his lips without emotion.