The Red Side is Always Blocking My Dog ​​leash

Hannibal Lecter.

The name evoked a certain memory of Mr. A.

-"The Silence of the Lambs"

Marianne…

The big sister who gave him the first slap.

Is she still alive now? Or is it already dead somewhere?

There is no clue except for the name, and there is no way to do anything with the power of Mr. A. But whether to do it or not and whether it can be done is obviously not a concept.

The fact is that Mr. A did not take any action, and even forgot about it.

Lecter... Maybe it would be better to call him Hannibal. Hannibal sat up straight and put a stack of A4 papers in his hand on the table next to him. Those were the test results that Mr. A had done before - he answered by himself of.

The blond gentleman leaned slightly in the direction of Mr. A, a gesture of listening.

He showed a gentle smile: "well, it seems that I'm still too serious. Don't be so restrained, you can choose to sit in your own comfortable position - would you like a glass of water?"

"Thank you, but no." A Jun leaned on the back of the chair, raised one leg, and crossed his hands in front of his chest and abdomen.

Now that you know that the person in front of you is not a good person, just order it casually.

"So, talk about anything, like in a movie—how are you feeling lately?" Hannibal joked.

"It's not very good..." said Mr. A, "I'm exhausted every day, but if you protest, you'll only get another set of answers since that person still has the strength to speak. It's a complete devil."

"Physical Exercise?"

"Yes…"

"Is that person a friend? Or family?"

"It's senior..."

This conversation continued for a while, and Hannibal said, "With all due respect, looking at it now, you don't have any psychological problems that need to be seen by a doctor. Why does Mr. Taylor think you need treatment?"

"Ah..." Because I want to recruit you, this reason obviously can't be stated directly, Mr. A thought for a while, "because I do have psychological problems."

"Appreciate further details."

"I've lost sleep, mentally."

Hannibal was silent for a while: "Because I was so tired, I fell asleep every night when I hit the bed, and sometimes I didn't even bother to eat dinner. You said that a minute ago."

"It's not wise to lie to a psychiatrist."

"Okay..." Mr. A said, "Actually, I killed people. I have to do a lot of exercise every day to make my body tired, otherwise I will dream of those people's faces."

Hannibal: …

"It's not a wise choice to lie," he repeated.

"I did kill people, thirteen. Oh, maybe thirteen and a half."

"But you didn't dream about the people you killed, on the contrary, you slept very well."

Mr. A changed his words eloquently: "That's because I didn't kill them with my own hands."

Hannibal wasn't annoyed, he maintained a decent smile: "Maybe you'd like to talk more about it?"

"I hired a man for a huge sum of money and asked him to kill the Bronk family who were celebrating their birthday for me, thirteen people."

"You remember their faces?"

"No, I just remember running out of bullets."

"The half?"

Mr. A paused for a while, the face of the girl who made him trigger the branch line was already blurred in his memory.

It's not that he can't save her, there are many tools that he can use to find someone. But he couldn't find a reason to explain it all to Bourbon.

"I knew someone was dying, but I didn't save her."

"Do you remember her name?"

"Just remembered, actually, if I remember correctly, her name was Marianne."

Hannibal narrowed his eyes.

"You didn't kill the thirteen of your own accord. You were resistant to killing. But not afraid."

Jun A nodded: "That's right."

"You think that not saving someone's life counts as murder in a way."

"Maybe..." He was noncommittal.

Hannibal smiled and suddenly changed the subject: "Maybe you have heard of a famous scholar who is keen to study the structure of the human brain."

"I don't think I've heard of it."

""On the Relationship between Sociopathic Personality and the Brain", he once did such a study."

"Oh?" Mr. A raised his interest a little.

"He examined the brains of several antisocial offenders and found that they had a consistent defect in one area of ​​the brain. Other offenders did not have this feature."

"So what? Does this mean that sociopaths have problems with their brains?"

"No..." Hannibal said, "later, out of curiosity, the scholar checked his own brain and found that he had the same defect."

Mr. A: …

"The biggest determinant of whether people with antisocial potential will go to crime is their childhood. This is the final conclusion of the scholar."

A-jun snorted indifferently.

Of course he had a happy childhood, needless to say.

Don't care about other people's lives, but never kill others. They even think they have a responsibility to save others.

He likes the righteous side, likes gentle people, likes a career like a policeman, these are the influences his family brings to him.

Mr. A has people who love him and are loved by him deeply. Perhaps one of them is a police-like occupation, so he can use a gun to explain it.

Morality, responsibility, universal values.

He was willing to be bound by everything.

The sun shines into the room through the window, and the square spot of light falls in the center of the room. The boy and the man are sitting in the shadows on both sides, and the light is in the middle.

The gray eyes were infinitely close to black in the shadows. He looked at the man across from the Guanghe River, as if he was indifferent, and at the same time, he seemed to be pity for something.

Hannibal caught a glimpse of the young man's heart, and he judged that the other party had a beautiful past.

But it doesn't exist anymore, or it can't go back. But that past still affects the current Mr. A.

Deep and fragile.

Like a spider silk that will break at some point.

Hannibal cares more about Mr. A's past happiness than Bourbon, who also glimpses part of the real boy.

The young man is standing on the cliff, the step forward is an abyss, and the step back is not smooth.

Even for him, it was far easier to let himself fall than to stay on it.

The spider silk was pulling him, making him unable to let himself fall, but unable to return to happiness, he could only hold the bottom line in the cracks.

Hannibal spread his hands: "You don't think I will tell the police all this, trust my professional ethics? Or do you think the police know and have no evidence to arrest you?"

"No..." A denied all, his eyes fixed on Hannibal, "because I know your essence."

Hannibal: "My... essence?"

"Marian, don't you think this name sounds familiar? Or, you don't care what the name of the person you eat is?"

Hannibal's pupils dilated for a moment, then laughed, "Do people care about the names of animals?"

"Well, now we have each other's secrets."

"Ah..." Mr. A was noncommittal, he originally came here because of Scotland's orders, and he said this just to kill the time for consultation.

After all, he only had less than ten days of memory in his poor brain. Apart from these, he can only chat with Hannibal about anime. This is obviously not a good idea.

"Want to try my cooking?" Hannibal asked. "Normal ingredients."

"Come on, I'm going back to find my brother."

"You don't seem to have a good relationship with your brother."

"Yes, but I like him quite a bit." Mr. A rarely said the truth, "The kind that can give his life."

"What about that person?"

"Also okay."

"I thought that your deepest love would only be left to your family."

"That's right, but that person is different."

"Lovers?"

The corner of A Jun's mouth twitched in his heart, but he still maintained the expression on his face: "As you think."

Although, that person's lover is not a person.

It is this (Japan) country (this)!

Mr. A even remembers the surging desire to complain when he saw it in the theater.

This is what a single dog speaks!

You will definitely be alone forever!

The door of the consultation room was knocked at this moment.

"Jack?" Hannibal opened the door and saw the man outside.

"I'm sorry to bother you during business hours, but I'm afraid your guests will have to come back tomorrow, maybe the day after, or some other time," said Jack Crawford, head of the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Division.

"What happened?"

"The FBI didn't catch that man, he knew that his exposure was due to you and Will, and revenge could come at any time, you know, he's very revengeful," Jack said, "so we want to make sure your Safety."

"By the way, you can use me to catch him." Hannibal replied.

"Oh my friend, your safety comes first."

Hannibal smiled helplessly and looked at the black-haired boy in the room: "Unfortunately, I can only invite you to **** craft next time, Arnold."

"It's okay, I'm looking forward to it, Dr. Hannibal." Jun A showed his first smile after entering the room, "Then I'll take my leave."

The two simply shook hands, and Hannibal handed over a card: "It's better to put a little ointment on your face. Then, look forward to seeing you next time."

Mr. A: "Thank you."

When I left, there seemed to be more people around than when I came. Mr. A observed for a while with his peripheral vision, and judged the fact that those people were armed with guns from the folds of the clothes.

That's what Bourbon taught him.

The FBI has surrounded this place.

Hopefully Hannibal does have trouble.

A Jun thought indifferently. By the way, he threw the business card in his hand into the trash can.

If the person in Jack's mouth is not a member of the organization. If that counterterrorism department wasn't Shuichi Akai's department, then it's really just a coincidence.

Hope this is a coincidence.

—

"That boy," Jack said after the boy walked away. "He looks like he's going to step over to the other side of the law at any time, or he's already."

"Are you going to spy on him? As a criminal reserve?"

"Perhaps? If necessary, but he doesn't look lethal."

"As a doctor with professional ethics, it is a basic virtue not to disclose patient information. I can only remind you not to judge people by their appearance." Hannibal said, "Arnold, he is a child who is slightly contradictory to his appearance."

Morality, indifference, kindness, cruelty. Contradictory factors blended in him to form this complex personality.

There is no doubt that he should be a good boy.

But now have to do bad things.

So why?

Will the factors that led to all this push him completely into the chaotic end?

If Hannibal before was just waiting for the result with interest, then at this moment, he decided to push him.

Smash what he loves and love him, watch him despair, fall into the abyss, and reveal the deepest essence.

Let those gray eyes no longer be able to show pity from above.

And after that—

There will be a chance to taste it carefully.