The days of leading the winery to build infrastructure together

"Polly, are you more sober?" Garcia pinched his shoulders, and just accidentally hit a lot of places, and his whole body was aching.

But Bolivar didn't hear at all.

Garcia's expression faded little by little, he let go of Bolivar, let him sweep the things on the table to the ground, and then raised his hand and slapped the other party.

The blow was so heavy that Bolivar's head turned to the side.He could clearly feel the sharp pain from his mouth rubbing against his teeth, and the salty and bloody smell spread from his mouth.

The entire private room finally quieted down, only the fragments and residues all over the floor showed the chaos just now, and there were tiny flames beeping around.

The strong wind carried the burnt aroma floating down from upstairs.

The place where the bomb hit was very coincidental.

Bolivar stayed where he was, his mind was full of random thoughts. In this mess, he actually clearly remembered that the location was the warehouse for storing oil.

The good news is that there should be no direct casualties, the bad news is what it is.

With the help of a large amount of inflammable materials, the fire upstairs spread quickly, climbing from the fourth floor to the third floor, and to the room where I was. The flames spread from the vines on the wall and ignited the curtains along the windows.

The bright red flames carried thick smoke, and the temperature in the room suddenly rose. There were women's sharp cries, men's shouts, commotion, and crackling sounds when some places couldn't hold on.

It was just a few breaths, and with the cooperation of the hurricane outside, the whole house was surrounded by fire.

Garcia stood opposite him, looking at Bolivar expressionlessly.

It was only then that Bolivar noticed that the other party's face was covered with ashes, and there were still a lot of sauce rubbed on it and small wounds cut by debris, which were oozing blood.

"What are you angry about?" Garcia asked suddenly, "The money can be made again, the house can be rebuilt if it collapses, and you can kill anyone who doesn't like it."

"What about your sanity and composure?"

Yeah, why am I so cranky and flustered?

Why am I so irrational?

"You're right, isn't it just a restaurant? Isn't it just passing the explosion again?"

"Isn't it just that months of painstaking efforts have been wiped out..."

Curving the corner of his mouth, Bolivar showed a smile that was uglier than crying: "Didn't you come here like this before?"

Sleeping on bombs every day, didn't I say nothing?

When facing the members of the organization, didn't I also behave very well, and I haven't been noticed by anyone?

When I was in the flash mob sports center, didn't I also endured it smoothly and dealt with the bomb?

In less than five months, I have experienced more bloodshed and life-and-death crises than in the previous 25 years.

My life is like a thread, dangling leisurely, hanging on the edge of a cliff, precariously blown by the wind.

He thought of Thomson's livid face in Grid's bathroom; of Martin's crushed body outside the student bar; of Little Lele's bloody face in Curacao at night; , corpses of ordinary people that were stained red with blood.

He thought of Jenny's vicious and distorted face, of the flash mob staff's merciless murderous appearance, of Rachel's unrestrained and completely unobtrusive ease, of Hook's flattering and snobbish expression, and of the clichés and hypocrisy of those police officers.

All kinds of moments of collapse and despair, I gritted my teeth and persisted.Looking back now, I am so moved to tears, why I was so numb and strong back then.

A little bit of trivial matter is nothing, but those small things are piled up together and rushing towards you like a snowball, which is suffocating and depressing.

The fate of cannon fodder and supporting roles is even humbler than that of ants.

If you say you will die, you will die, if you say no, you will die, tomorrow or accident, you never know which will come first.

This world is rotten from the root.

Why are there so many people who despise life so indifferently, because a little thing can kill them?

Why do accidents seem to haunt you forever, like the god of death?

"Me too, I'm just an ordinary person." The corners of Bolivar's mouth flattened, and his tone trembled.

Bolivar felt his eyes a little sore.

Before he came here, his life was very quiet and peaceful. He had never even been robbed in the street. When it comes to bloody incidents, he had never even killed a pig. He was not a policeman or a forensic doctor. An honest little businessman.

God knows how flustered he was when he first confirmed that this was Ke Xue's world.He is just more tolerant, able to temporarily suppress his bad emotions, and try to find a way out.

He has been reassuring himself that it is okay, I am calm enough, smart enough, and have a little ability, no matter what kind of problem I encounter, I can solve it.

But tell him now, tell him!How to deal with the bomb from the sky?

He was sitting in the house, when suddenly a helicopter came and threw a guided missile, how would he defend against it?

This incident is as ridiculous as Su Moumou's combat plane forced to land in the wilderness, crushing the wooden house and killing the civilians sleeping inside.

Where is the way out?I am not Conan, I am not the protagonist, where is my way of life?

Bolivar burst into tears.

He was only astonished when he saw the other party flying a helicopter to bomb the TV tower and the Ferris wheel in the theater version before, but now he has brought in the victim, which is full of despair.

You don't even know if you are walking on the street one day in the future, will another missile fall from the sky and flatten you, will you be as lucky as this time, and pass by yourself at that moment?Or hit yourself directly?Turn yourself into mud like Martin?

What bodyguard?What body armor?It's no use at all, let's go on the road together.

This is the black power, this is the black power!

These are ordinary people in the world of famous detectives!

"I can't stand it! I'm quitting this shit!"

"Whoever likes to do it!"

"I want to go back!" Bolivar took two steps forward and opened the window. The flames hit him, but he didn't feel it, and he didn't even blink his eyes.

He really wanted to hear the fire brigade coming downstairs, and he seemed to hear the employees of Champs Elysees busy putting out the fire.

Garcia grabs Bolivar's wrist.

"What are you going to do?" Bolivar paused.

"Is this what you really think?" Garcia stepped forward, and he stepped on the fire, "I'm still the same question as before. What are you dissatisfied with?"

"..."

Garcia's tone was still so steady, as if he was not standing in the fire: "I don't know what happened, and I can't understand your thoughts."

"You left two sentences before."

"I hope I can tell you in due course."

"I never knew what the right time was. But now it seems that it should be."

"I just said the first sentence, do you really understand? What are you dissatisfied with? The second sentence is, are you really willing to go back?"

Bolivar froze for a moment, his shoulders gradually relaxed.

"I've always been very clear..." His voice was very small.

"I've always been very clear... the reason for my despair is that it's the world that I'm dissatisfied with."

"Yes, this whole twisted world." Bolivar's eyes drooped, "Twisted and cruel."

"I don't like this place. It's oppressive and disorderly. The righteous people are too sharp and reckless, while the evildoers are chaotic and disorderly."

"This is the main theme that I hate. The right light singles out the black forces anytime and anywhere, and shows a lonely courage anytime and anywhere. What death, blood, explosion? All are the background boards of the drama."

"I hate this, I hate doing a backdrop."

"But I'm not willing to go back here."

He thought of the anguish he felt when he was full of ambitions but could not be fulfilled, he remembered Hal's joyful smile when he snatched back the lost property, he remembered Keiko Asai's firmness when she stood up and told the truth, and he remembered the trusting eyes of the pop-up staff , Thinking of the red bean porridge that Li Kai handed him, thinking of the days when he and the staff in the office were busy rushing to report, thinking of the joy and excitement of the whole company when Kung Fu Rice was finally on the market, thinking of the candy battle at Christmas, thinking of the love of many people. Face, Zhu Fu Jingguang, Amuro Toru, Curacao, Ivy, Whitney, Hal, Brad...

Suddenly I feel a little bit sad.

Bolivar laughed suddenly, tears almost came out of laughter.

He jumped off the ledge and reached out to pull Garcia out of the fire.

"Have you changed your mind?"

"Yes, I regret it."

"If I don't even have the courage to try, I'm too cowardly."

"Chen Sheng was able to realize his consciousness thousands of years ago. If he dies today, he will die, and he will die even if he does great things. Waiting for death, is the country dead? I have so many things, so why should I shrink back?"

"What about the main theme of the world? What about the protagonist? I want to change it." Bolivar took two deep breaths.

He suddenly felt very ashamed, his ears turned red with shame, but he still said it out loud: "I want to make it the main theme of me, Mr. Li!"

"..." The room was silent for two seconds.

Garcia clapped pretendingly, and the corners of his mouth curled up in a polite arc, "You are really ambitious, boss. I don't know if we can start our first step now, have you escaped from the fire?"

Only then did Bolivar feel the burning pain in his lungs, and his throat seemed to be scratched by something: "cough, cough, cough."

"A lot of smoke, a lot...cough cough cough cough..."

"If you don't go out again, I will think that you think I know too many secrets and want to drag me to death in a sea of ​​flames." Garcia's tone was full of yin and yang, but he still took out two small fire masks from his arms , one on Bolivar's face and one on himself.

"Wait, where is Mrs. Sawada? And Hiroki??" Bolivar noticed something was wrong, and he coughed several times, "cough cough cough cough."

"You just noticed this. When you were fighting with me just now, that is, when the second bomb fell, Mrs. Zetian was completely awake from fright, and she ran out grabbing Hiroki. "

"So if you want to silence, you only need to clean me up, no one else will see your 'wise and mighty' appearance before." Garcia said full of resentment, "You really know how to pick the time, don't come early I don’t come late, but I want to lose my nerve in the fire scene, I really think I have a long life.”

"It was a short-lived job, and I didn't pay attention to it," Garcia said, reaching out and rolling up his sleeves, and hissed, "Look! Look! These are all blisters from the fire. By you Stupid X dragged down!"

"I should have left you in there alone and burned you into a roast turkey!"

"I'm sorry, it's all my fault." Bolivar was as well-behaved as a quail, and he didn't look like he had just finally figured it out and was in high spirits.

"But let's hurry up," Garcia said, clutching his chin. "It's still on fire downstairs, and I don't know if Mrs. Zetian has any accident."

"What? What fire?!"