rust and bone

A tumbled long-sleeved shirt.

He raised his eyes lazily, and saw someone coming out of the fierce god's door and leaving.

The top of the head said word by word: "Scumbag."

He raised his head, and the man was sitting on the steps with his coat on. He had been injured, the injury was not serious, and he even staggered slightly when he sat down.

Squearo stood up, throwing a deck of cards to his feet.

"Black Jack."

The man reached out and tapped on the poker cards, shuffled the cards, and motioned him to draw one.

Squearo drew back his cards, the man didn't move, his hands were crossed, and his eyes were closed.

"Pick again," he ordered curtly.

"……ah?!"

The ferocious god's eyes opened, his pupils were rare and extremely frightening.

"Tell you to smoke again."

Squearo drew a second card and placed it in front of the man. The man closed his eyes again, speechless.

After a while, he slowly uttered a word: "Read."

"What are you doing... are you fucking playing cards?!"

He suddenly realized something, and he choked on the second half of the sentence—this person is illiterate.

His heart beat wildly.

Squearo, fucking chance.

He drew three cards each for himself and the man, and placed them upside down on the stairs.

Seventeen to sixteen.The man didn't speak, and Squearo asked himself a fourth card.

Haven't done this move in almost ten years.He flipped over the East Coast biker card and held it up in front of his eyes in a Las Vegas-standard crossdraw.

Flower four.

Hey.

"How many?" The man turned to look at him, son of a bitch, his eyes looked really uncomfortable.

No, wait a minute.

--give me a chance.

He pretended to flip over the cards.

——An opportunity, right away.

"Grass Flower Five."

He pushed the flower five that had slipped out of his sleeve to the man, and confirmed that it turned over like a clown riding a bicycle.

Very lucky.

The man stared at him for a long moment, as if trying to see through a thin sheet of paper.

"Clover five?"

He smiled very ironically, and slowly picked up the deck of cards from the floor.

Suddenly, the stack of cards was violently thrown into the air.

Snowflakes of cards flew in all directions, and an extremely strong hand caught his jaw.The force was so strong that at the moment he was stuck, he took a sharp breath, the blood flow was blocked and filled the brain cavity, and it was almost about to explode.

"Ha... ha... don't... don't..." The mandible was almost crushed, and he even hallucinated the creaking sound, and a series of shameful weak sounds came out of his throat again and again.

The man lifted his jaw upwards vigorously, almost as powerful as an uppercut, and almost made a terrifying cracking sound from the back of his neck.

"Do you think you can deceive me like this, Zhaza?"

Those words made the heart stop for an instant.This is the second time he has been discovered in so many years.

"...your eyes are giving you away."

The man let go, took a few steps back, and resumed his dry and cold expression.He stood at the door for a while, and warned quietly: "Don't play tricks on me, count to three, get out. Scumbag."

#04

There are always some rare and wacky additional abilities.For example, you can't be interested in anything, and you can poke someone's pain no matter what you say.

The room was so shabby that even he couldn't stand it, with clear water walls, white porcelain floor tiles, a sofa bed, and a framed TV wall but no TV.

Afterwards, there was a mess of empty cans and bottles, and discarded paper cups.

Squearo turned his head, forcing his gaze back to the homeowner.He asked carelessly: "Hello, you are severely dyslexic, right?"

He didn't realize that he touched the tiger's butt until the other party raised his head. The man with red eyes had a nuclear-level displeasure on his face.

"Whether I'm illiterate or not is none of your business."

He spat and pointed under the blank TV wall frame: "Sleep over there, or get out."

Squearo sat down against the wall and stretched his legs.He hadn't been able to sleep with his legs straight for a long time, and the pleasure of stretching his muscles and bones even made him temporarily not feel the annoying shoulder injury.

"Hey, let me tell you."

The man sat on the sofa with a towel and wiped his hair.

"You are not fit to be a killer at all."

The man's movements stopped.

"I found a taxi driver on Elimay Boulevard—sorry for your poor driving skills, everyone was very impressed—and followed him all the way to your house."

The man tilted his head half-listening, and opened a can of Budweiser.

Squearo sat up: "Of course, the driver," he clasped his hands together and made a cross-twisting movement, "don't worry."

The man frowned, holding up a half-drunk Budweiser.

"No, I'm not saying your technique sucks."

"You," Squearo pointed out in the air, "is too strong. This kind of unforgettable impression is the worst fucking thing for a killer."

The pink-eyed patient lowered his head slightly, stepped on the edge of the coffee table and looked at Skearo who was sitting on the ground.

His eyes focused on the visitor for the first time.Then, an empty aluminum can angrily smashed against the wall directly behind the visitor.

"It's noisy, shut up."

Five in the morning.

Here it was again, the blunt feeling of being attacked by sea water and then suffocated, the bright sky light swaying ethereally above him.

The snoring grew louder.Sansas sat up restlessly, dizzy with a headache from the low blood sugar.

The visitor was lying on his side on the floor, his back turned to him, in a deep sleep.

Sansas stood up carefully with the gun on the side, twirling a strand of straw-colored blond hair behind his ear.He stepped barefoot over countless obstacles on the floor and crouched behind visitors.

Not very bright, but enough for his eyes to borrow light. On the right shoulder blade of the man's back, the fabric rolled from the outside to the inside to form a small scorched hole.

He held the gun in his backhand in killing intent.

The gun was aimed at the man's back.He hooked his fingers and put it down.

No, wait a minute.

The bullet was embedded there obliquely, and he felt it. It was a Russian small-caliber bullet, a very old model, but slightly smaller than normal bullets.

No, that's a mock bomb.

He had been on a gambling boat docked in Alaska. It was the imitation bomb used by Maozi for gambling, and it couldn't kill anyone at all.

No wonder he lived so long.

Sansas stared lowly at the shimmering metal shell case in the darkness, and stroked the barrel of the gun back and forth with his left hand.

...Who the hell are you?

#05

"Do you want to gamble?"

For the last question, Skelo opened his mouth, and Bai Lang lay quietly on the coffee table.He didn't dare to answer with words other than yes or no, he knew that this pink eye had let him go, and if he lied next time, this man would blow his head off without hesitation.

Two hours ago he had been awakened by the dull pain of the soda can hitting the back of his head, and his back was burning with pain.He twisted his neck with difficulty, and saw empty bullet casings, pliers, and hydrogen peroxide thrown around his head.

"Take care of yourself and be ready to answer questions."

He endured the pain and put gauze on it—he was grateful, anyway, that the bullet was out—and the hydrogen peroxide sizzled and smoked over the wound, so painful that he wanted to bite off his tongue.

Squearo obediently sat down against the wall, and the man was sitting on the sofa bed, changing magazines for Browning.

He tapped on the table with the plus pipe: "Answer yes or no, do you understand, scumbag."

Two hours later, he leaned against the hard wall, and his back hurt again.

"No."

The man squinted his eyes, leaned back into the soft mattress, stretched out his hand, and Browning made an extremely brisk pulling sound.

"Didn't I remind you to stop lying? Your acting skills are really clumsy."

"Okay, buddy, don't shoot." He coughed awkwardly, pulling his coat tighter, trying to look as presentable as possible.

"...I picked up a gambling boat from Samoa. I couldn't afford the tickets. I gambled and got into trouble. Do you understand now?!" He almost yelled out this embarrassing thing However, the pink-eyed patient on the opposite side closed his eyes and clasped his hands on the sofa, indifferent.

"Are you satisfied now?!"

The man suddenly opened his eyes, but instead of responding to his words, he pressed the bluetooth headset on his left ear.

He was silent for a while, stood up and put the gun back on the coffee table, and said in a low voice, "It's me."

The radio waves in the earphones are rustling, except for the two parties in the conversation, no one else can hear half a word.

He was half-bent in front of the coffee table, and Squearo could clearly see the black curls on top of his head.The man heard something, rolled his eyes upwards, and squeezed the wrinkles on his forehead.

He didn't say anything, just hung up the phone and left, not even forgetting to lock the door.

#06

The pleasure of suffocating in the water is like passing through a deep door.

He splashed out of the water and wiped his wet hair back with his hands. On the top floor of the skyscraper, in the standard luxury swimming pool, only the water marks he swiped were gradually fading away.

Sansas stood in front of the French windows looking out onto the helicopter pad.He had his hands in the side pockets of his dirty khaki trousers, looking at something.There are dark marks all over the trousers, and it has long been unclear whether it is red wine, engine oil, or blood.

The water and light streaked across, as if it could kill the whole boring afternoon.He lay prone on the edge of the pool, floating all over, and whispered in a bloodshot voice: "Santhas, come here."

Sansas withdrew his gaze from the window, obediently walked to the edge of the pool and squatted down.

In the next second, Dino's right arm jumped out of the water, hooked his neck, and dragged him into the water.

They hugged each other, spinning rapidly in the three-meter deep water, sinking to see the bright and piercing dark blue light on the water surface.

In the darkness of the deep water, there was a long moan like a beast whimpering.

……

Dino tore open the empty box of Marlboro, rolled it up, lit it with a lighter, and actually smoked an empty cigarette.

they lie side by side