The days of leading the winery to build infrastructure together

"I'll tell you the identities and personalities of all of them. Is that okay? Garcia?"

"Of course, I remember almost all of them."

The young man with honey-colored eyes had a cold expression, and he glanced at Ivy in the distance.Ai Wei glanced at the other party, obviously a little upset, but still dutifully closed the door to prevent others from eavesdropping.

Bolivar withdrew his gaze from observing the two, and added lightly: "The less people know about this matter, the better. Ivy's seat outside is too important, so I can't tell her."

"Of course, this has nothing to do with me. You can explain to her yourself." Garcia said.

"But these few, Mr. Undercover in the future." Garcia read out the last few words playfully.

"I don't think you need to take the risk and clear your memory with unreliable methods."

Bolivar took a deep breath: "No, they are born with good luck... When they really join the organization, you'd better not contact them."

Bolivar warned: "You should be very clear that we are as small as ants. At some point, we will become the so-called background board, the victim, confused, and lost his life because of an inexplicable accident."

Hearing this sentence, Garcia didn't say much, but his brows were a little more gloomy.

"Of course, I can't understand this feeling very well." He chuckled, "As a little ant, I have lived for so many years, and I am more skilled in dealing with this situation than you."

"Tsk." Bolivar didn't like to hear this sentence, and his brows were slightly wrinkled, but soon, his brows relaxed again.

"The token..." Bolivar hesitated.

"Just use that hairpin." Garcia said casually, with a half-smile, "I believe, you and I still remember that thing."

Bolivar glanced at the other party, but nodded, he did have a deep memory of that thing.After all, it was the first time he faced the murder scene directly.

"After the matter is successful..." Bolivar stopped suddenly, he didn't say the last part, and didn't promise anything.When Garcia heard this sentence, he also smiled and didn't ask a word.

Whatever reward you want, do it yourself.

They acquiesced to this.

……

All of this is erratic, like the sun covered by wind-blown clouds. Sometimes the wind blows the clouds up, revealing subtle light, and sometimes the clouds surge and the wind stops, covering everything finely and densely.

Bolivar closed the notebook in front of him, took another deep breath, and ended this memory.

He rubbed his sore forehead, feeling his scalp twitching and tingling slightly.

The aftermath of amnesia is very strong, even now, he hasn't fully remembered the blank decades before.

Since when did you know that this was probably a trap?

Bolivar lightly pressed the lighter, lit a cigarette, did not move, just put it there, watching it burn quietly.

Maybe when I grow up, I forget it.

When I was young, I once spent a week confirming my fingerprints one by one.

I memorized the shape of my fingerprints.

Can't say it's 100% correct, but when I was in my 20s, I still have some memories.

The human brain is truly an amazing thing.

When you deliberately forget something that should be remembered, other things that you thought you had forgotten will be remembered instead.

So on the first day he came here, he found his own fingerprints, which were vague and seemed to be very similar to the original fingerprints.

The ability has not changed, and the fingerprints are somewhat similar, but the face and identity have changed.

What this represented was self-evident, almost made his hair stand on end, and raised his vigilance to the highest level.

So what did he do, or what was done to him.

Bolivar couldn't help laughing bitterly.

He still hasn't recalled part of his memories after he was 30 years old.

After I left the university, after I left the ivory tower, what happened to him that made him choose to leave there desperately?

He vaguely realized that it was probably similar to the plot of Canglangzhishui.

It is a day when the world is doubted and ideals are shattered.There is nothing wrong with not thinking about it.

He reopened his diary box.

This was found from Garcia's home, the loose pages of his diary, the souvenirs Garcia sorted out, and some things left to him by the other party.

For example, this small and familiar notebook.

Bolivar turns it on.

Knowledge is poisonous honey.

Eat less and it will give you energy, but eat too much and it will—

"Knowledge will make me more clearly aware of the difference between me and others, and feel the inequality and gap more acutely. People with different identities doing the same thing will get completely different results."

Bolivar opened the manuscript after many years, his eyes drooping slightly.

He thought that he had forgotten this long ago, and handed the 'trash' to the other party, the manuscript of an unknown female philosopher who died of illness.

"People outside, when they see me, will only notice my face, who is my father, how much property I have, whether I am beautiful, and whether I have enough ornamental value. Everything about me is drowned beneath the surface."

"... more than ten years ago, women were not allowed to enter the university. But today, I can enter the university, but when I tried to enter the library, I was rejected. They claimed that it was not worthy of my status. place." The woman's handwriting is delicate and beautiful, and every word and every sentence reveals a clear question.

"They don't care about my knowledge, they don't care that I'm smarter than most of the idiots in the library, they don't care what works and thoughts I have, they only see my breasts and hair."

"So what's the use of my knowledge?"

"It changed me from an ordinary slave to a slave who can bring more benefits to my master! I can better provide spiritual value to my master. Even if the rules on the surface have been broken. All the internal rules, the unspoken rules that others silently admit, are like shadows that will always hold me."

"Me too." Beautiful pen writing marked the last line.

Bolivar could recognize the line as Garcia's handwriting.

There is a piece of paper at the back of the book, with familiar handwriting on it.

"I wish you well, my boss.

I've always wanted to write something without revealing too much, but I feel bad for not saying anything.

Therefore, I am nothing more than a capricious, hesitant and mean person.

All my life, I have been judged by appearances.It's been like this all our lives.

No matter what I do, the first thing people see is my face.Then there's my identity.

I also hated why I don't have fair skin, why I don't have a reliable family background, why my blood is not noble, and why other people are so indifferent.

Knowledge did not bring me upward power.Because in this world, the most precious thing is not knowledge, but information.

I am happy to see those big groups that have taken root for a hundred years completely discredited and collapsed.

I want to take advantage of the victory and pursue, and kill everyone who used their identity to squeeze my living space.

But I see it, the thriving Grid.

She is so powerful, majestic, and convincing.

Can easily influence the political arena, every politician wants to get her investment and support.

It squeezes the living space of those opponents, just like every big group I have seen in the past, those people squeezed me in the past.

Grid, now, was squeezing them.

Everything seems to have changed.

Only at this time did I realize that what I wanted was never equality, freedom and respect.

Being able to crush others at will and be a master - is more attractive to me.

When the power comes to me, I don't want to let it go either, even more of an asshole than those people.

Why should I give up, I finally got the right. "

There is a subtle difference in the handwriting on the next page, and it seems that there is another page in the middle that has been torn off.Bolivar turned it over.

"

I seem to have found what I really want.

I gave up.

Whether you succeed, or fail.

I have given up revenge.

If you read this letter, it also means that I have reconciled with this world.

Therefore, I also hope that you can truly reconcile with this world.

It's not what you think it is - it's too dangerous to believe.

Please believe it.

There is nothing beautiful in this world, it is wrong.

Even if there is beauty in this world, it has nothing to do with a bad star like me, it is wrong.

It also has something nice about you.

It's worth your while.

If there is no beauty in this world for you that belongs to you, then I would like to thank you, I am willing to be the beauty in your heart.

Please come on, take my share, and bring hope to the countless Browns in the future, or those who are anonymous. "

Bolivar gently placed the letter on the table.

The wind outside the window blew in, and the corners of the paper were lifted, and the tiny plush came in with the wind, and was dyed golden by the not-so-glare sunlight, filling the surroundings.

Bolivar felt the subtle itch of hair rubbing against the corners of his eyes.

"Tsk—"

"You kid can't do it. After working so hard for so long, why did you finally decide to let someone else take you to fly?"

Bolivar's tone was dissatisfied and frivolous, but his teeth could not help shaking slightly.

He opened his mouth and tried hard a few times, but he clearly felt the touch of his lips, but he couldn't speak.Finally, he patted the table suddenly, stretched out his hand, pulled out the pen, trembling for a while, and typed a good word on it.

After doing this, he seemed to lose his strength in an instant. He put his hands on the table, and he looked at his fingers, which were still trembling slightly.

After a while, he slowly came back to his senses and contacted his secretary through the inside line.

"Knock down."

"Please come in."

"Boss." Curacao with silver-gray hair pushed the door in. "You called me?"

Bolivar held his chin, pondered for a while, and then nodded slowly: "Well... Indeed, we are going to start, discuss how to disintegrate... No, we have cut Grid peacefully."

"Huh?" Curacao froze for a moment.

"Ah, what, Grid is now an absolute monopoly oligopoly, and it is also a multi-industry monopoly." Bolivar laughed, and said the first sentence, but the latter was easier to say.

"If you don't want it to become an evil group even worse than the Black Organization, then quickly find a way to remedy it." Bolivar said lightly, saying something that made the other party shudder.

"It is necessary to determine the suitable successor of the small division step by step, and then dismantle its entire business."

"But before that, we need to use this monopoly status to do other things, such as strengthening basic education and cleaning up the media industry..."

Bolivar's voice suddenly weakened. He looked at the other party's silver-white hair, his mild and unclouded eyes, and thought about the other party's previous performance and the performance in his own memory.

Bolivar raised his head slightly, looked at Curacao for a while, and said suddenly.

"Curacao... no, Olga, I put my conscience in yours, can you keep it safe for me?"

"Boss?" The woman who was memorizing something looked a little confused.

Bolivar's voice was very soft, as if he was drunk, his mind was dizzy, and he leaned back on the back of the chair.

"If Grid becomes, the second black organization... or something worse, you will kill me, and then completely break up Grid." His tone was very peaceful.

He may have been reluctant before, but now he is fearless.

Bolivar has got what he wants most.

"..."

"Some things need life to prove their existence, and they will regret and blame themselves afterwards, but when nothing happened, they cannot be sure of their existence." Bolivar's voice was very low, "After listening to this, I still can't believe it." What a bastard."

Bolivar recalled the day he had received those manuscripts.

On the surface, it seems to be the outline of Conan's plot recorded by Kuangcao, but some other ideas are drawn with thin wooden sticks inside.

He gently moved the pencil in his hand to make the line of writing visible.

This seems to be some of my own thoughts before implementing the plan.

"Garcia suddenly asked me today if I trusted my parents.

I replied, of course, I would give my life for them.

He didn't speak, not sure if he believed it or not.

……

I have worked hard for half of my life, but I have not been able to cross the boundaries of my shackles.

However, today, I saw a possibility and a hope.

From nothing, one person has made the class leap and reached the top, and as far as I know there is only one person.

I have nothing, but I can't be that person, and I don't have the luck, scheming and strength.

Moreover, after the emergence of guns, the road of achieving class leapfrogging by force has been judged by many people to be unworkable.

But now, in the era after guns were produced, I actually see a hope, a possibility. "

"I saw the ambition and the ability to realize it. He was only one luck away."

"So I wish him success."

"I hope, I will fail."

The lines on the diary paper trembled, showing the excitement of the person involved.

"If it succeeds...it means that this road is open, no matter how narrow it is, it still exists. My past efforts are not delusional. I don't need to follow my parents, ancestors, generations of flesh and blood and conscience. The road to success. You can succeed by stepping on the road paved with the flesh and blood of outsiders by yourself.”

"If this hope is possible to come true, I am willing to use my life as a firewood to ignite the road ahead for him."

Bolivar had already forgotten what kind of mood he was holding to write this line.

But he vaguely remembered his unwillingness and original wish at that time.

Curacao listened to the other party's words, the expression on his face slowly gathered, and returned to peace.

"……Can."

"Although I don't know what you are talking about, I believe in you." Curacao smiled gently, "I am also willing to be your guarantee."

"...Thank you."

--------------------

The author has something to say:

Well, it's over.

The idea of ​​this piece is very convoluted, and I don't know if I have explained it clearly.

上一章结尾有一些没有解释明白，还要再改改……感谢在2022-07-2923:34:43~2022-07-3023:48:55期间为我投出霸王票或灌溉营养液的小天使哦~

Thanks to the little angel of irrigation nutrient solution: 2 bottles of Jiu Lian;

Thank you very much for your support, I will continue to work hard!