My Bungo system is a little different

The windows were closed tightly, keeping out the wind and sound.

A beautiful desk lamp is half covered with a gauze, which blocks the light dimly. If it weren't for the stove next to it, the brightness in the room would not be enough.

Next to the window are bookshelves full of books and a small writing desk, and there are sofas and small tables inside.

"This is really authentic..." The man leaning against the window looked at the small table and said.

Sliced ​​white bread, a plate of caviar, sliced ​​sausages and other appetizers.Of course, the most important thing is the chilled vodka set aside.

"Would you like me to pour you a glass of wine? Nikolai," said the red-haired woman sitting on the sofa.

"Just eat and drink in the study?" Gogol asked.

"Yes."

In the study room where the stove is very hot and the room is so warm that you can only wear one or two coats, drink vodka with Russian-style appetizers.

"You're not surprised to see it's me." Gogol looked at Bradbury who was drinking alone, but couldn't help but say a few more words.

He'd entered the room almost for fun an hour earlier, only to find that Bradbury was really where she said it was.

"If Fyodor came here, of course I would find it strange, but if it's you, then there's nothing to be surprised about." After taking a sip of vodka, Bradbury frowned slightly—she's not Russian after all , I am not used to drinking such a strong wine.

Hearing her words, Gogol actually laughed.

"Of course I'm going to read the story you wrote here. Fedya may be angry that you asked Sigma to take the page away but you wrote it first." He said.

Bradbury didn't bother to laugh.She just raised her eyelids to glance at the visitor, and then cast her eyes on the book on her lap.

"I didn't take the pages. I didn't write on them." She said flatly, turning a page.

If you ask this person why she drinks in the study, she might say that vodka is required to read Russian literature, which is the so-called 'appetizer'.

Nothing Bradbury said seemed like a lie.

"That doesn't stop me from watching 'Ghost Resurrection.' What do you end up with for the two of them? Never see each other? Die together? Or does the latter sound better."

Those who were drinking and reading still responded to his words.

"I haven't figured out the ending yet." She rarely showed hesitation on her face. "Of course Rilke has to die. But emotion and death are considered separately."

While saying he didn't write on the pages, Bradbury candidly admitted that he was the manipulator behind the Rilke and Tsvetaeva story.

Gogol's smile seemed to be constant with a ruler, and he finally sat down, but he didn't intend to touch alcohol or side dishes at all.

"It's better to die together." He repeated his opinion. "It's no fun to have so many ghosts trapped in a small town."

If you look closely at his pupils at this time, you might be able to see the flickering broken light.

Bradbury suddenly closed the book on his lap and looked up.

"A grave is a bird's nest from which the soul soars. How?" She said something really inexplicable.

But the listener seemed to understand what she meant.

"Is this your inspiration?" Gogol asked.

Bradbury's expression remained unchanged, and she looked towards the open window.

Dark snowy night.The falling snowflakes were hardly visible either.

"I choose to stay—" She turned her head back, "It's okay to stop for a while. But, you are right, too many ghosts are not interesting. The living will determine the fate of ghosts."

"This is really..."

"After all, I don't care about the feelings of the dead." Bradbury smiled coldly.

This is an attitude Gogol is familiar with.

In fact, after meeting Bradbury in Tokyo that year, and the other party quickly reached an agreement with Fyodor, Gogol met her not many times.

After all, he has the ability of space system to come and go freely.

Bradbury has always been a cold fire.Her crystallized rationality wraps so little of the 'human' part that only obsessions remain, which occasionally makes Gogol feel subtle sympathy for her.

— not free at all.

But Bradbury's move is clearly in the direction of liberating himself.And she only cares about herself.

This is why, as a manipulator, Bradbury will always cut all the threads after the story is over, but Fedya will not.

It's just that what she wants to cut off this time may be something else.

"Aren't you worried about what Fedya is doing?" Gogol asked.

He sorted out the information on the other side in his mind, while watching every change in Bradbury's expression.

The person being watched responded with a calm chuckle.

"Nikolai, I haven't decided on the ending yet," Bradbury said. "Even if Fyodor gives me a few more actors, it's just a few more scenes."

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Yokohama at the same time.

Two o'clock in the morning is not too late for Yokohama.

Maybe it's too early to get the real night owls out and about.

As Yokohama's 'dark night', the Port Mafia is naturally used to working in the dark.

But in the basement isolation room of the headquarters office building, theoretically speaking, there should be no 'night affairs' to be dealt with at this time.

It should have been so quiet—

Consider who the people living inside are.

Is there really a fool who wants to play tricks here?

however.

On such a quiet and ordinary night, an alarm from the port mafia suddenly sounded.

Not the kind of alarm that would be played loudly throughout the building, but just flashing on the desks of a few people, but it was no less urgent than the former.

About five minutes after the alarm was sounded, Ogai Mori, the current head of the port mafia, arrived at the isolation room in the basement of the building with a serious expression on his face.

After seeing the current situation inside, he could only remain silent for a while.

In one corner of the isolation chamber, the unoxidized scarlet mixture was evenly coated on the three sides connected by one corner, and the two vertical sides were dripping the mixed liquid.

"Ogaiden, did you expect this?"

Koyo Ozaki, who also came over, sighed at the bloody scene.

"There are not many options." Sen smiled wryly.

It can be seen from the monitoring that a member of the Port Mafia who was indeed allowed to contact Verlaine according to the regulations walked into the isolation room, and then said something to Verlaine. After about 3 minutes, he was directly " Stall' on the wall.

Then, Verlaine left the isolation room directly, and his actions could not be recorded by the surveillance.

There is no sound.But in the current period of time, a guy who doesn't know whether he was instigated by rebellion or controlled by a different ability can say quite limited to Verlaine.

Most likely it was a mutation of Yelabuga.

It's just that to make Verlaine react this way, he probably said something provocative.

"If Chuya and Verlaine are not in the headquarters, should we shrink temporarily, Ogaiden?" Ozaki Koyo asked.

She is the one who cares more about events in Yokohama than in a foreign country.

Sen rubbed the center of his eyebrows with the heels of his palms, showing a little fatigue.

"There is no need to shrink, and all members of the headquarters in Yokohama are notified to be alert. It is strictly forbidden to cause conflicts at this time." He said, "Since the stage is not in Yokohama, we only need to remain vigilant."

Ever since Dazai left the Port Mafia to go to the Supernatural Secret Service, there has been a strange tacit understanding between the former master and apprentice.

In addition, Mori already had ears within the government, so he knew about this incident.

"Let Akutagawa go to Yelabuga immediately." He issued an order, "All matters must be obeyed by Dazai."

Thinking of the 'greeting' Dazai gave him in advance before he left Yokohama, Mori couldn't help but sigh in his heart, since you found the student yourself——

Even if he can't get a glimpse of the full inside story, he knows which side he should stand in and what role he should play in this unfinished contest.

The enemy made a move, which is inevitable.

Then you have to pay back.

But how many people are there on the chessboard?

There are hidden worries in the heart of the old and cunning Sen.Has my trust in Dazai exceeded the limit?

This is something Mori naturally thinks about while staying in Yokohama.

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"Ah, sorry."

Running carefree on the snow, Rika jumped and bumped into the man who was standing still.

Out of a kind of Japanese politeness, Otoko Yuta apologized to the other party.

As if being knocked back to reality by Lixiang's bump, the eyes of the man with black hair and gray purple eyes regained focus.

He silently watched Lixiang running back to Otoko Yuta's side.

"Are you two lovers?" He suddenly asked.

Yi Gu was a little surprised.

Because Satoka is wearing a thin dress, her identity as a 'ghost' is very clear.

But when I saw myself, who was almost 20 years old, and Li Xiang, who looked only 11 years old, my first reaction was to be a 'lover', which I had never had before.

"Is it obvious?" Bone asked.

The man who was questioned showed an expression that looked like he was about to cry for a moment.

"Yes, this kind of thing can be seen at a glance." The answering voice seemed infinitely lonely on the snow.