musicians of old

Chapter 58
The carriage returning home gallops through the night.

Joan reclined on the soft sofa in the carriage, propping herself up on huge velvet pillows.

Hands on the railing, little feet off the ground, swinging and yawning.

After a while, she opened the curtain and looked at the strange outlines drawn by the low houses on the street. She exhaled white mist, which was quickly blown away by the cold wind.

The temperature dropped again before the arrival of early winter in Uvransal.

"Well, I should be home soon." Joan closed the curtain, took out the vial of [-]% pure brilliant psychic liquid that Mr. "Mendeleev" gave her, smiled at the corner of her mouth, and put it back.

He took out Fanning's "Death and the Maiden" string quartet score from the storage compartment under the sofa, stared at the dedication content under the title, and looked at Fanning's signature for a while.

Then spread the score on his lap and read the second violin part carefully.

It's really nice to listen to, don't let yourself fall behind.

She hummed happily as she read, tapping the fingers of her left hand on her right arm, imitating the fingerings on the fretboard of a violin.

"Why does it feel like it took me a little longer to go home today than usual?"

Suddenly Joan frowned.

My own home is also in the Nelenia district, just on the opposite side from Saint Lenia University.

Counting from Cedar Plaza where several people left, it should be less than ten minutes' drive away.

She put the score down, opened and closed the curtain again.

The dots of gas lamps glow weakly in the night, and passers-by walk in twos and threes with their necks tucked into their coats.

The low-slung houses are juxtaposed together like crooked hornet's nests. Each small room of the hive is brightly lit, and a family of seven, eight or even ten people are crowded, and they retreat quickly in their field of vision.

There seems to be no problem.

"How long is it, Uncle Gordon?" Joan crisply said.

No one answered.

After a pause for a few seconds, Joan shouted again in a high volume that she didn't usually use: "Uncle Gordon?"

"Da da da da da."

The only answer to her was the same hoofbeats.

"Crack——" Joan jumped off the sofa and pushed the glass window bracket in front of the car.

There is no one on the horseback outside!
Can this car still drive steadily and fast?
Joan's whole body was suddenly chilled, she closed the glass window with a "bang", and sat back on the sofa.

The surrounding air was filled with a sense of coldness, as if someone was peeping at him from the dark.

There is a problem in this car!

A look of fear appeared on her delicate and flawless face, she bit her lip, urged her own inspiration, the back of her head led her body, and leaned against the carriage wall behind the sofa.

The lavender fluorescent lights flickered, and the walls of the carriage rippled like water. Joan's petite body became blurred and fell straight through the wall!
She was already ready to fall off the carriage and roll on the ground, but she sat down on the sofa again.

It was still the fast-moving carriage, but my position changed from the sofa on the left to the sofa on the right.

"Miss Purple Bean Cake, I didn't expect you to be so young." A polite old voice sounded.

On the sofa opposite Joan, sat a man in an old-fashioned dress with gray hair and a black mask.

Although the tone on the other side seemed to be harmless, Joan couldn't help but want to escape due to the weird environment at night. She inspired her inspiration again and tried to escape through the wall behind her.

Under the purple light curtain, Joan's body protruded from the water-rippled carriage wall again.

But she found that she still fell on the sofa, and the man was still opposite, but the left and right positions of the two sides were switched again.

"It's just an illusion, don't be nervous." The man spoke again.

"Mr. Translator, you are looking for me, yes, what can I do?" Joan clenched her fists and stared at the other party vigilantly.

"I'm in some trouble and need your help."

"You mean my secret formula for stabilizing the mind?"

"Yes."

"I... I said before that I will keep it for you. When you meet next time, you can pay me a part of the brilliant psychic liquid first. I don't need all of it. I can give it to you first." Joan's expression relaxed a little.

The man in the old-fashioned dress sighed.

He didn't expect Zidou Cake at the party to be such an immature little girl, and he didn't expect that at this juncture, she was still foolishly agreeing with him on the next transaction.

How did she become wise?

Although he claims that he is not a bad person, but if the unknown thing that has troubled him for many days has become more and more concrete, he is really unwilling to use force on this innocent little girl at this moment.

It's not that I can't afford the price, but that I don't have enough time.

Sylvia, that shrewd and cold-blooded hateful woman, reduced the supply of "Black Skeleton Oil" because of a delay in her translation work.

But my own demand for this kind of raw material is getting bigger and bigger, and the cycle that can be suppressed every time is getting shorter and shorter.

If I hadn't studied the hidden knowledge of the Lord of Witnesses back then, and arranged the damn "cocoon" secret ritual of continuous life...

But, who doesn't want to live a few more years.

I am over sixty years old?I am only in my sixties!

Why is life so short, why!This garbage world! !
The "translator" lost control of his heart for a moment and screamed again, and then suppressed it, slowly took out the revolver, and pressed the brass bullets in front of Joan without any haste.

"Miss Purple Bean Cake, I don't want to do anything, but you can't escape the illusion." He casually pointed the pistol into the air, "I said it's hitting your head now, do you believe it?"

Joan covered her gaping mouth.

Only then did she realize that this Mr. "Translator" was not here to negotiate a deal with her.

As soon as he finished speaking, the "translator" suddenly twitched a few times, his ankle twisted and rubbed back and forth on the ground, and then, like a marionette, he abruptly moved to one side for a few short moments, and then returned to normal .

Looking at this weird scene and the threatening words before, Joan shrank into a ball in fear, her eyes full of grievances, she reached into her pocket and fumbled, and said, "I'll give you the formula."

"I will pay you according to its value, Miss Purple Bean Cake." The "translator" seemed not aware of his abnormal behavior just now, but was momentarily stunned.

"However, I don't have time to refine it myself, please come with me, it will be fine in a day."

"No, no, no!" Joan was so frightened that she almost cried, "I have to go to school tomorrow, and I can't stay out at night..."

"Shut up!" The translator suddenly yelled hoarsely, the dense scenes in front of him that seemed to be pierced by pinholes and the squirming ghosts made the fear in his heart turn into mania, "Why the hell am I talking nonsense with you? There are so many, stand up quickly!"

Big tears began to trickle down from Joan's eyes, and she stood up slowly, with a sob or two at first, then faster and faster.

"Calm down, Mr. Translator, you're scaring people."

Fanning's deep voice suddenly appeared in the carriage.

The cold gun barrel pressed against the side of the "translator"'s head.

　Thanks to Vvvvviktor for the monthly pass ~ I have been working overtime recently, and I have finished saving the manuscript.For the second update in the evening, I need the cash code. I can’t send it at 20:23, and the code will come out before [-]:[-].Feel sorry.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)