Cos Verlaine's I crossed

Sicily, city of Palermo.

At an Italian restaurant near the square, musicians in black tuxedos played "Core Ngrato" engrossed in front of a grand piano in the lobby.

The soothing piano music flutters in the restaurant, and the tune is permeated with a touch of sadness, which is one of the famous Italian songs.

What I told... I heard it was a story about a heartbreaker.

Paul Verlaine rested his cheeks, listening to the music and other people's soft conversations, and looked at the square outside with his eyes, as if the lively crowd attracted him even more.He sat alone in the dining area, in his own world, refusing everyone to talk to him.

He neither ordered dinner nor tasted snacks, but just ordered a cup of local-style hot coffee and put it in front of him to spread the aroma.

His poison resistance is not high.

The disadvantage of not liking to disguise his appearance is that he seldom eats outside normally to prevent someone from poisoning the food.

However, he is not a person who is greedy for food, and he is willing to pay a negligible price for this enjoyment.

Paul Verlaine’s eyes were half closed, his fingers in white gloves moved slightly, matching the melody, and his fingertips seemed to touch the emotions of the musician. A skilled musician can always play a piece of music full of emotion , touched his hollow heart.

Suddenly, the atmosphere of the restaurant changed.

"This gentleman... please wear formal clothes..."

In the direction of the gate, the welcoming waiter looked confused and was pushed away by the uninvited guest before he could speak a complete sentence.Immediately, the guests in the restaurant heard two footsteps, and the one walking in the front was the sound of rushing and thumping high-heeled shoes!

The musician was involuntarily distracted, first glanced at the direction of the beautiful young man in a white suit, and then looked at the door. He was instantly frightened by the aura of the visitor, and the rhythm of his subordinates became chaotic.

"Boom!"

The sound of the wrong piano overlapped with the sound of high-heeled shoes.

The ear-piercing changes made the guests raise their heads one after another, and those who wanted to condemn those who ruined the atmosphere immediately became amazed.

"who is this?"

"I don't know him, but with his followers, he looks like a big shot."

"He's walking towards the table number seven."

"It's so fashionable. It's the latest pattern and leopard print colors that were introduced in this year's magazine... Are the two handsome guys acquaintances?"

The focus of men and women has always been different, but when it comes to Paul Verlaine, they can't help but reach the same goal, curious about the relationship between the visitor and the guest in the white suit.

"I found you!"

A pair of big hands clapped on the table of table seven.

Paul Verlaine's eyes turned cold when he was in a relaxed state, he slowly raised his eyelids, and gave the dead man a look of charity.

Immediately, Paul Verlaine caught sight of the leopard-print jacket and bright-colored attire. His eyelids twitched slightly, and he could see clearly this extravagant man who looked like a playboy.

The man with blond hair and brown eyes has thick, soft, shoulder-length hair and a masculine face. He suppresses the arrogance of a leopard print and high-heeled shoes. He is handsome and sexy. , as if wearing any clothes can carry.

The attention of the entire Italian restaurant was changed by two people.

From the moment Paul Verlaine entered the restaurant, many people wanted to make friends, but they were all ignored. As a result, the Italians who were interested in Paul Verlaine were not even asked for their names.

Now that people come, they can know more.

"Wilde?"

Paul Verlaine recognized the face.

During the war, Oscar Wilde rose up suddenly, participated in the forefront of the battlefield, and did not serve as a supernatural spy, so the information about this British transcendent was clearer.

Arthur Rimbaud doesn't know Oscar Wilde of Wenye World, which doesn't mean that the assassin king Paul Verlaine doesn't know him.

"Honey, don't you call me Fingal?"

Oscar Wilde's high-spirited fighting spirit faded away, his expression collapsed, and the aura no longer enveloped the restaurant.

"?"

Paul Verlaine propped his chin, feeling slightly puzzled.

No matter how nervous the British are, Paul Verlaine intends to stay the same, and he is not going to take the initiative in public, so as not to be blacklisted by the Italian authorities.

Oh, the killing before was nothing.

Assassinations on the back of society are generally not put on the bright side.

Behind Oscar Wilde, the female employee sent by the British government wiped off her sweat, calmed her breath, and tried to remember the conversation between the two.She hasn't taken a break since getting off the plane, and she is in charge of Oscar Wilde's trip in Italy.

"Rimbaud, you call me Fingal, don't call me Wilde! There is no identity barrier between us!" Oscar Wilde was extremely distressed, feeling that the relationship between them was estranged.

From the first moment he saw Paul Verlaine, he felt that his lost heart had returned to Cupid's hands.

"..." When Paul Verlaine heard the name of "Rimbaud", he had the feeling of being awakened from a long memory.

[Rimbaud? 】

[What are you calling that name for? 】

【Are the British going to pursue Rimbaud's death for the French? 】

Paul Verlaine asked three times in his heart.

His former French partner, the Frenchman who had been dead for eight years with no bones left, was Arthur Rimbaud.He thought that eight years later, no one mentioned this name again.

Observing carefully, Paul Verlaine recognized that Oscar Wilde was calling him, not someone else.

That's interesting.

He never called himself "Rimbaud" to anyone.

This French surname has hidden different meanings for him.

Oscar Wilde, the top dog in the UK, has long been famous, and his hobbies are teased by surpassers from many countries.Paul Verlaine thought that the other party was coming to touch him, but in fact—Oscar Wilde did touch the Assassin King by mistake.

"Rimbaud, I know that what happened last time made you uncomfortable. It was my fault. I swear that I have solved those problems." Oscar Wilde got the acquiescence of the British government and said helplessly, "Will you give me more money?" A chance?"

Paul Verlaine couldn't understand what he was saying the whole time, which didn't prevent him from thinking about the email from the last German.

[Is it possible that someone is pretending to be himself? 】

【Are these people stupid?How could you mistake my identity. 】

Oscar Wilde was working hard to get back together, but the piano music in the restaurant made his scalp tingle. The famous Italian song "Core Ngrato" translates to "The Heartbreaker".

The person he loves is listening to this song?

It was clearly digging a grave for him, and was going to kick him into it!

Oscar Wilde yelled, "Stop it, please! Don't you see the courtship here?!"

The movements of the musicians stagnate, and the music stops abruptly.

After finishing speaking, Oscar Wilde knelt down on one knee, stretched out his hand, and took a bouquet of flowers hurriedly handed over by the female attendant.The big white lily was stained with dew, fresh and fragrant, and the British transcendent presented it to Paul Verlaine, "My dear, I came in a hurry, and I prepared a bouquet of flowers for you on the way."

"Today, you are graceful in my heart."

The exquisite braided hair, the noble white suit, and the detached temperament all touched Oscar Wilde's excitement.

"I love you."

"Please let me be a haven for you to stay. I can't reach your dream land, but I can be your dream listener. I won't bind you, I just want to get your kiss."

Oscar Wilde's affectionate confession.

Paul Verlaine smiled with unprecedented danger behind it, but Oscar Wilde was fascinated.

Exactly the same appearance, the body that was engraved in the dream, even though the temperament of my dear has changed, not as down-to-earth as the first meeting, but still the person he likes the most!

"Mr. Wilde, why should I kiss you?" Paul Verlaine ignored his request and continued to use this indifferent address, "Just because of your insincere confession? Just because of your fascination that resounds through the European supernatural world and promiscuity?"

Oscar Wilde has been burdened by fame for a long time, and he wanted to cry without tears: "I drove away little Douglas!"

Paul Verlaine followed the lead: "I don't care about insignificant people, can't you come up with more evidence?"

Oscar Wilde blurted out: "Let's go directly to get the certificate!" He turned to the female attendant, "Is same-sex marriage allowed in Italy? I urgently need a wedding to prove myself!"

The female entourage said with difficulty: "Mr. Wilde, this needs to be approved by the superior. You promised us that we will not go too far, and this gentleman's identity cannot be approved by the government."

Paul Verlaine's smile deepened, with disgust in his eyes.

[I will marry you?Think too much. 】

Paul Verlaine, who didn't want to wrong himself any more, threw the lily aside and said bluntly, "You can go."

He would rather investigate the cause and effect alone.

Just as Paul Verlaine said that, Oscar Wilde brazenly hugged one of Paul Verlaine's legs in spite of the threat of gravity. Under the wide-open eyes of the blond beautiful young man, the majestic British transcendent cried loudly: "Lan Bo, give Fingal a chance! Fingal can't forget you and fell in love with you!"

Paul Verlaine was startled by the other party's humility, do you have to die for love like this?

Paul Verlaine, who could not understand love, broke free from the strange relationship and said to Oscar Wilde: "I am not the 'Rimbaud' you said, you have misunderstood the person."

"You are!" Oscar Wilde said sadly, "Do you want to completely sever our love past in order to get rid of me?"

Paul Verlaine's half smile is not a smile, and the British Yangou lives up to its reputation.

"When did I fall in love with you?"

"Rimbaud!"

"Your words are baseless, you can't provide any evidence, even if you spread rumors with great fanfare, it's useless."

Paul Verlaine ridiculed the folly of the opponent.

Wilde, the "Rimbaud" you know is a fake.

Oscar Wilde straightened his body and got close to Paul Verlaine. There was always a few millimeters of distance between his arm and the opponent's left thigh. He tried his best to hug but failed to break through the barrier of gravity.

Oscar Wilde said, "I have proof!"

As soon as Paul Verlaine stopped gesticulating to leave, Oscar Wilde lowered his voice, "Don't forget, I slept with you before, the color below you is lighter than your hair, light blonde."

Paul Verlaine: "..."

Oscar Wilde stepped aside hastily, thinking that he would be beaten.

The female entourage dared not go forward, seeing that Mr. Wilde was afraid, and looked at the unfavorable development in front of him with trepidation.

Paul Verlaine stood where he was, staring at Oscar Wilde, his blue eyes burst out with a sharp murderous look.

He didn't hit anyone.

Because of the crisis of privacy leakage, it is better than verbal molestation.

Paul Verlaine originally thought that the person who pretended to be a fake identity was at most "copying" his appearance, but now it seems that his body information has also been "copying" in the past.After reaching this level of falsehood, all his secrets will be exposed.

Who is that person?

What is the purpose?

Why impersonate him to contact Oscar Wilde?What kind of conspiracy is waiting for him behind this?

Paul Verlaine smiled brightly: "What are you afraid of? Am I not your favorite person?"

Oscar Wilde swallowed: "You are so scary now..."

It hadn't been a day or two since he and Rimbaud joked with each other. Rimbaud could catch all kinds of dirty jokes, switching between dirty and dirty words naturally, and he had never been so angry.

Paul Verlaine grabs Oscar Wilde's tie.

He dragged people away, leaving behind words.

"Borrow it for a while."

The female attendant was at a loss and said awkwardly: "Please remember to return..." to the British government.

……

It's not that Paul Verlaine doesn't know how to pretend.

Having been an intelligence agent for four years, he is as proficient in disguise skills as other intelligence agents in other countries. However, there is a kind of stubborn arrogance in his bones, which makes him not want to say things against his will and pretend to be someone else!

Pushing Oscar Wilde against the wall, Paul Verlaine suppressed his limbs and said softly, "I really want to kill you right now, but I will give you five minutes to beg for mercy."

Oscar Wilde said aggrievedly: "You promised me, you will give me a kiss next time you see me."

Paul Verlaine said cruelly: "Impossible."

Oscar Wilde was heartbroken, and combined the sadness and black belly after losing love: "If you forget, I will forget the ring you left." He showed Paul Verlaine his finger, and there was a brass on his thumb Ring, said expectantly, "If you kiss me, I will return the ring to you."

Paul Verlaine took a closer look, ring?

Oscar Wilde noticed his hesitation, and suddenly remembered that the other party said that he was not "Rimbaud", his face changed slightly.

Paul Verlaine said indifferently, "You found out?"

Paul Verlaine held Wilde's thumb with his hand, and peeled off the ring bit by bit, while the other party clasped his thumb in turn, refusing to give the ring to Paul Verlaine.

Oscar Wilde stared at Verlaine: "Who are you?"

A gravitational red light emerged from Paul Verlaine's body, and he said sarcastically, "I am Paul Verlaine. I have never met you, but I have become the lover you are looking for in name."

After Oscar Wilde saw gravity, he relaxed and laughed loudly: "Are you kidding me?"

Oscar Wilde carefully perceived Paul Verlaine's supernatural power, which was still the familiar gravity power.Seeing that the ring could not be kept, he said to Verlaine: "There will not be two people with the same appearance and the same ability in this world."

At the cost of giving up the ring, Oscar Wilde quickly stroked Paul Verlaine's face. The old British pervert could swear by his own hand—the delicate touch is undoubtedly true.

"Rimbaud, no one can do such a thing."

"..."

Paul Verlaine took half a step back, checked the ring, and was stirred up by Wilde's words.

[Who said it couldn't be done? 】

[I am a clone, a man-made transcendent, you have underestimated the lunatics in this world. 】

In an instant, Paul Verlaine used gravity to cut open the ring that Wilde was reluctant to destroy, and found the note inside.

Paul Verlaine's heart constricted and his whole body trembled.

[Black NO.12, I am waiting for you on the standard island. 】

[——Artille Rimbaud. 】

……

He remembered.

After killing the "Fun God", he searched through the entire laboratory's written records in order to find his own origin.

Finally, on a thin piece of paper, he found the truth with the person who has not yet become a partner: he is a clone, and his power comes from an extremely rare "paradoxical" superhuman. "The Mu Shen" used the genetic remnants of this supernatural person to create a clone, and then created the "singularity" to form the core strength of the "Dragon" in his heart. He is the only one who survived these inhumane experiments The finished product, or a replica.

This person with supernatural powers is his prototype, the one that the "Punisher" went crazy and wanted to copy!

The real, unheard-of "Artille Rimbaud"!

— my brother.