deformed bone

No. 16 days after the serial killer "Red Deer" escaped from the hospital, in Fox River City, [-] kilometers away from Bradmore State Hospital, a man pushed the door and walked into the bar with turbid air.

It was evening, and the night had just fallen. There was still a little pink stained by the afterglow of the sun in the outdoor sky, and the bar hadn't yet ushered in its peak passenger flow. At least three-quarters of the seats here were empty, and the worn-out stereos piled up in the In the corner, dying, humming a so-called rock song from an underground band.The carpet has not been cleaned for a long time, and it feels greasy to step on. There is dried chewing gum in the cracks of the wall that is almost completely covered with graffiti. Get together to play a mobile game.And in some darker corners, there are also a few shadowy figures. Of course, no one wants to know what they are doing.

And the moment the man stepped into this bar, he attracted almost everyone's attention, just like that old-fashioned western movie, people stopped what they were doing and looked at the door-to be honest , this scene is kind of funny, but it happened.

Young street thugs pressed the pause button on their mobile phones, and they looked at the unexpected visitor with that strange look.

"Wow--"

Someone let out a long whistle, and then everyone laughed.

The man blinked and hugged the leather handbag in his arms, looking as if he wanted to rush out the door.In fact, if he was smart enough, he should do it, but after standing there for a moment, he took a deep breath and walked slowly towards the bar.

He sat in the faded round high chair.

He was a seat away from the two thugs who were playing with their phones before, and they were looking at him.

Here's a man who doesn't fit in this bar...a handsome man, or rather, a boy.

He feels very young, not to say that his appearance is so naive—at least the bartender can easily see that he is an adult, but the breath on him, only the kind that has never been exposed to any cruel things in the world, life People in a good environment can have this kind of careless and innocent atmosphere. He is like the kind of college student who has just graduated, with short fluffy hair as soft as wool, and a pair of beautiful lips on his smooth cheeks. Mint-colored eyes that could be described as innocent, he looked slightly expensive in his cream cashmere vest and dark gray silk shirt.

Behind the bar, the bartender frowned slightly as he looked at the expensive watch that the man inadvertently showed on his cuff.

This man is not someone who should be here - this Coyote Bar is right in the heart of Red Riley's turf, a filthy haven for junkies, gangsters and whores, where no decent person can go after dark Dare to pass through this area, unless he is carrying a gun.

However, the little boy sitting on the chair didn't look like the kind of person who would carry a gun on his body.

He looked like a red-eyed bunny who had strayed into a wolf's lair. For the people here, he was a delicious snack.

"What would you like to have."

the bartender asked him.

"Sparkling water with lemon, thank you."

Mr. Snacks replied politely, speaking with a distinctly Boston accent.

The bartender looked at him silently.

"..."

A few seconds later, Mr. "Little Snack" changed his sitting position awkwardly, and then said awkwardly: "...uh, then the Mojito is ready.

"puff--"

The two punks sneered visibly.

"Hey kid, did your grandma finally let you out today?"

One of them said to the man.

"Uh...sorry?"

At first, Mr. "Snack" looked like he didn't understand the provocation, and he winked at the two thugs who started to have fun because they were bored.The light from the bar only illuminated half of his face, and for a brief moment his pupils seemed to turn a very pale silver, like quarters.

Then he reacted slowly.

"I, I'm here for a reason."

He actually started to explain to the two gangsters.

"My name is Virgili, Virgili Astell...well, actually, I'm preparing for my graduation project. I want to make portraits of people from different walks of life in contemporary society and use them Computer technology is mixed together, and through technical means these portraits will eventually become a literal 'popular face' portrait...~"

"Social class?! Ha!"

A gangster abruptly and grimly interrupted Mr. Vigili's chatter.

He looked like he was irritated, but in fact, he was.

"What class do you think we are? What do you consider inferior? The bottom of society—you say that, don't you?"

Another gangster made a disgusted expression.

He smiled and waved at his angry companion: "Hit him, Billy, beat his shit out, and see if his shit smells better than people like us!"

"I didn't mean that, I meant..."

Vigily stood up in a panic, he was almost tripped by one and staggered.

Anyone who has experienced it knows that conflict is about to happen, and Mr. "Little Snack" will learn his lesson: first, don't go out wearing expensive watches and bags, and second, don't go to such The hell out of nowhere—whether he's doing it for his graduation project or for world peace.

However, the moment Billy squeezed his fist and rushed towards Virgil, his hand was grabbed.

"What are you doing, kid."

A tired and hoarse voice sounded from behind Billy.

Few noticed when the man appeared behind Billy, a black hoodie covering his emaciated figure, one hand clutching Billy, the other on his stomach. In the pocket, the hat kept covering the upper part of his face, and his breath was as ethereal as the shadow of an old cat.

But almost the moment he opened his mouth, Billy, who was aggressive before, froze in an instant.

"'Helen'?"

he asked dryly.

"Don't make trouble here, I remember I told you."

The man's tone sounded like "it's a nice day," and Billy was clearly uncomfortable and frightened.If he was a puppy, he would have started whimpering with his tail between his legs by this time.

"I, I didn't... I just didn't expect you to come back at this time... No, I actually..."

Billy spoke incoherently, and his companion leaned over timidly.

"Billy didn't mean to, it's this fag who's been harassing us—"

Virgilie Astor turned her head and looked at the rambunctious gangster in shock.

"Hey, I didn't—"

Then Virgil saw Billy fly out.

The man Billy dubbed "Helen" seemed to be throwing a bag of plastic garbage. He easily threw Billy, who weighed more than 190 pounds and was six feet tall, to the door of the bar. The latter let out a scream, Then rolled several times continuously on the carpet.

Then he turned his face to Billy's little henchman, who put his hand to his ear in a gesture of surrender and looked almost on the verge of tears.

"Hey, come on, I didn't do anything, I didn't break the rules—"

"I know."

The man whispered, grabbing the little footman by the collar and throwing it straight at Billy, who had just gotten up.

"...you should be at school now instead of fooling around in this ghost place."

The yelling punks pushed each other to stand up.

"Oh my God, school is on holiday today, okay?!"

Billy said with a sad face.

"I feel like my bones are breaking, my bones must be breaking."

His footman hugged his knees and wailed.

"Helen, you are becoming more and more vicious—"

"Helen" stood quietly in the shadows.

"Go back to school, kids, and don't make me mad."

he said indifferently.

Then he put his hands in his pockets and came in front of Virgil.

A strand of platinum-blond hair fell from the brim of his hat, and shone like silver threads in the light.

"What did you want just now?"

he asked impatiently.

Vigilie's eyes widened, and he stammered after a while: "Bubbles...no, I mean, Mojito."

"Helen" walked away straight after getting the answer, and it was almost difficult to judge whether he really heard Virgili's answer.However, a moment later, he appeared behind the bar.

He lowered the hood of his hoodie, and the spotlights above the bar cast soft light on his face.

With pale skin, long platinum hair, and perfect facial features, it was an absolutely beautiful face.

This man seemed to be shining from the inside, the purest and flawless starlight reflected by the dewdrops on the rose petals pierced through the turbid air and dim light and appeared in Virgil's vision.Just staring at him will make people feel dizzy for a while—even if his face is indifferent and tired, as if he will be so world-weary that he will end his life in the next second.

Virgil stared at "Helen" like a fool, and the pink color spread from his neck to his entire cheek at a speed visible to the naked eye.He opened his lips slightly, and let out a heavy gasp. His whole body seemed to have fallen into some kind of trance, and his mind and soul had been absorbed by the face of "Helen".

"Is it a Mojito?"

As if she didn't notice Virgil's fiery gaze, "Helen" confirmed with a blank expression.

"..."

Virgilis stared at him stupidly, like a deer caught in the headlights.

The corner of "Helen"'s mouth twitched slightly.

He tilted his head and used his fingers to smooth the platinum hair that fell down his cheeks behind his ears, then casually tossed the rum, cane juice and mint into the glass and filled it with the soda glass.

The bartender on the side looked at his random moves with a painful face, and his cheeks twitched.

"Lemons, lemons!"

He muttered to "Helen".

"Helen" picked up a whole lemon and threw it into the cup.

The mixed wine overflowed from the glass and flowed on the bar.

"Your Mojito."

"Helen" said to Virgili indifferently.

Vigily blinked his eyes slowly, and he said in an ethereal voice: "...Are you real?"

"..."

"Helen" raised an eyebrow, his current expression was like looking at a mentally retarded pig, he opened his mouth to say something... It took several seconds for Vigili to realize what he said.

He says--

"Finish your drink, leave your money, and fuck off."