After the performance at the Red Maple Grand Theater, a figure walked quickly down the street. The lights on the nearby gas street are shining, reflecting his youthful face.

   This young man is wearing glasses, his flaxen hair is lying softly on his forehead, he has a slightly bookish face, and there is still a bit of childishness between his brows that has not completely faded away.

   His formal wear looks cheap, but he ironed out the stiff lines, which is obviously well taken care of.

   Suddenly, the young man seemed to feel something and looked back.

   Around him, behind him, there are passers-by coming and going. At this moment, a carriage passed by. The young man suddenly shook his spirits, and looked at the other side of the street after the carriage passed by.

There.

   Also under the street lamp, a man pressed his abdomen with his hand and bowed slightly to him.

   The blood on the young man's face faded immediately, and he turned into a small alley next to him in a panic. In the alley, a stray cat was frightened, yelled and jumped onto a dusty window, with two secluded eyes, watching the dashing figure in front of him vigilantly.

   pedal! Pedal! Pedal!

   The young man rushed across the alley, seeing the exit approaching, suddenly, filthy, depraved words rang in his ears.

  As if, the devil whispered in his ear.

   The young man's movements suddenly became stiff, and his legs stopped unwillingly. Before he could figure out what was going on, he suddenly felt a violent collision. When he recovered, he was hit against the wall.

   Then.

   The young man saw a pair of **** eyes, and as the assailant smiled and backed away, he could clearly see what the attacker looked like.

   Twenty-five years old, with long gray hair draped over his shoulders and back, and his handsome face was sickly pale, as if he had not been bathed in sunlight for many years. (Note 1)

   is wearing a pure black dress, trousers are straight, and the shoes are shiny.

   Finally, the young man saw that the assailant’s hands were stained with blood.

   At this moment, he felt a tingling pain in his abdomen. When he lowered his head, he realized that there was a dagger stuck in it, and it pierced deeply into his body.

The clothes around    have been stained red by the bleeding blood.

   The young man lost all his strength at once, slowly slid down against the wall, and asked with difficulty: "Why do you want to do this?"

  The long-gray-haired assailant beamed a weird smile, leaned slightly, and made an aristocratic meeting ceremony: "Because I hate the audience, Mr. Novelist."

   The young man trembled slightly: "You, are you a lawyer?"

   "Yes and no."

   The attacker straightened his body, swept the long hair that fell to the front of his forehead with his hand, and moved them behind him: "This city is very good. I plan to stay here for a while, so I can't be seen through."

   "However, your audience can always find something that shouldn't be noticed. For example, at a party just now, you have already noticed that I am not a lawyer, am I?"

   He squatted down in front of the novelist and said with a smile: "So whenever I go to a place, the first thing I send is the nearby ‘audience’ so that I can have a good time playing."

  The attacker took out a wallet from the novelist and shook it: "I will take this away. In this way, when your body is discovered by the police, it should be treated as an ordinary robbery, right?"

   "I know them too well. Those guys are like curly baboons. As long as they find a reasonable answer, they won't go deeper, and they won't submit the case to an offending official."

   "Of course, I will wait for your characteristics to separate before leaving. You see, this is called professionalism."

   The novelist's consciousness has begun to blur, and he even saw some fragments of his life. Vaguely, he seemed to hear a shout from the alley.

   "Mr. Fulies, is that you?"

   "Please wait, I have something to say to you."

   The sound of footsteps came from the entrance of the alley, and there was more than one person. There was even the sound of birds.

   The attacker frowned: "Damn it, it's just this time."

   He glanced at the novelist and kicked the dagger to make it pierce deeper. Then quickly retreated into the darkness, and was gone in a blink of an eye.

   The sound of footsteps finally came nearby, and someone said ‘huh’: "It’s not Mr. Fulais, did I miss you?"

   "Sir, he seems to have been attacked."

   "呱呱."

   There was a sound in the alley, and someone lit a match, so the fire illuminates Sifa’s face.

   When he left the scene just now, he caught the smell of'lawyer' and found a suspicious figure. He immediately followed, but he didn't expect to encounter such a scene.

   Sifah stepped forward, squatted down in front of the young man whose face was no longer bloody, and reached out his hand to his nose.

   Suddenly, the young man raised his head and grabbed Sifa's hand abruptly.

Xifa was about to jump up to help. Gelu had already set aside his revolver, but saw the young man take out a coin from his pocket and put it in Xifa’s hand. He opened his mouth vigorously and said two words: "Help I......."

   The voice stopped abruptly, his head tilted, his hands dropped weakly, and he was dead.

  Sifah looked at the coin in his palm and found that there was some rust on it. When he held the coin, he was slightly touched spiritually, which seemed to be a magical item.

   He suddenly remembered the coins used by novelists for divination at the party, which made Sifa couldn't help but look at Qianggen, the dead young man, and a thought came to his mind.

   Is he a novelist?

  A lawyer who attacked him?

   Why did the lawyer attack the party members? No, that is probably not a lawyer. His smell has changed.

  Is someone imposting and attending the party as a lawyer? In this case, why lawyers can have the arsonist formula, it makes sense.

   "Sir, get out of here~www.readwn.com~I'll take care of it next." Glu reminded from behind that the bodyguard could see that the novelist was dead.

   Xifa nodded, glanced at the novelist's body, turned around and left the manservant.

   Violet Hotel.

   After returning to the room, Sifa took Gregor the parrot into the bedroom. The latter flew into the birdcage and said, "It was a terrible thing that killed that little guy."

   Xifa looked at it: "What do you perceive?"

   Gregor spread his wings: "No, I just feel that way."

feel?

   Speaking of it, the inspiration of ‘monster’ seems to be quite high. Before this stupid bird also felt the speciality of the bronze mirror.

   "By the way, why do you always think of yourself as a dragon? You don't have a problem here, right?" Sifa nodded his head with a finger.

 Gregor looked at him. At this moment, the parrot's eyes had a few deep rays of light: "Because the dragon is the most powerful non-human species I know."

   "Because I hate being weak, stupid, cowardly, and ignorant."

   Xifa looked at the macaw in the cage in surprise. He didn't expect a bird to say such a thing.

   It seems that you are a bird with only stories.

   Note 1: This is the role provided by the old wine in Longtaolou.

   PS: Thank you Jiu Xuan Zun, for coming to hit me ha ha ha la, I won’t take the name, success depends on people and wealth in heaven, waiting for rewards from those who watched~

  ()

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