Embers of Embers

Chapter 312 Rest
Lorenzo didn't think he would be involved with the gentle word "home", but every time he saw the old Dunling again after being born and died, Lorenzo would feel a sense of intimacy like returning to "home". .
The machinery works endlessly, the fire in the furnace burns and rises, the rain rushes in the channel, and finally returns to the Thames.
Even this damn rainy season cannot stop the rotation of this society. Umbrellas gather into rivers and run through the streets of the city. Iron snakes are like swimming fish, moving along with the sound of whistles, or opening up during the surge of steam. From the car door, countless mermaids jumped out.
Under the snake system in the atrium, the traffic in the entire city is still running in an orderly manner, but the carriage that symbolizes status and wealth becomes ridiculous. Compared with the advanced machinery, it becomes backward... In fact A few years ago, horse-drawn carriages could still be seen everywhere on the streets, but now with the development of machinery, they are becoming less and less common.
Sometimes people even feel that this city is alive, growing and changing, just like a big tree, with its own ecosystem, an ecosystem of steel and machinery.
Lorenzo stood on the corner of the street, his body wet and stained with dirty blood.
Because of the rainy season, war airships dived one after another, and the main force of urban security supervision became the mounted police. They braved the heavy rain and marched on the streets.
Judging from the current complicated situation, Lorenzo doesn't want to alarm anyone, and he just escaped from death. Lorenzo now only hopes to return to 121A Cork Street safe and sound, and sleep well in the big bed he is familiar with. Sleep.
His clothes were in tatters and he didn't have an umbrella. He might have been regarded as a stranger sneaking into the lower city.
Lorenzo thought this, and then approached the street. He was thinking about robbing a passerby's umbrella and clothes. Just as he was about to do it, he saw a familiar face.
……
The man walked slowly on the street with an umbrella. After getting over the grief of divorce, he slowly discovered the joy of life. He could sleep in the living room, sleep in the kitchen, and fool around outside all day long. You can also get yourself drunk in the toilet.
He was extremely free. For a moment, he felt that he had lived under constraints for the first half of his life. He had to look forward and backward in everything he did, and he had to take into account other people's thoughts.
He felt great now, with the wine in his bag, and even the wetness had become milder.
Life was really good, until he saw a tramp-like guy appearing in front of his eyes, he couldn't see him clearly, but as he got closer, his face gradually became frightened.
His eyes glanced back and forth around him, trying to find a place to hide, but he was still too slow. Just as he was about to take action, one hand grabbed the handle of his umbrella, and the two of them sat under the same umbrella. Like a pair of close friends.
"Long time no see! Director Buscaro!"
Looking at the bad expression and smelling the bloody smell that was close at hand, Buscaro's expression was as uncomfortable as eating a fly, but this is where life is difficult. Obviously this guy in front of him is extremely annoying, But Buscaro still had to look like an old friend.
"Okay... Long time no see, Mr. Holmes."
……
147 Hammeling Street.
Lorenzo took off his wet clothes and put on the clothes Buscaro handed him. Maybe because of the size difference, Lorenzo felt like he was wearing a nightgown in his clothes.
Buscalo’s home is very big. He lived here with his wife and a daughter before, but after the divorce, his wife took their daughter and left. Buscalo was the only one left in this empty room. .
Lorenzo still remembers his last "illegal invasion", the scene here, the house is very tidy, everything is in order, full of the breath of life, but now the wine bottles are rolling on the ground, clothes and sundries are piled up on the ground, some corners It still exudes a damn sour smell, as if some mountain savage lives here.
Buscalo sat on the messy sofa, took out the bought wine from the bag, and without any sense of ritual, bit the cork and blew on the bottle, Lorenzo couldn't help but look at him with admiration.
One of the reasons Lorenzo doesn't like to make friends is that he carries secret blood, and this forbidden secret blood will attract evil things.
This is also explained in Shermans's notes, who called this phenomenon "phototaxis."
In the endless darkness, Lorenzo, who carries secret blood, is like a point of light, attracting moths in the darkness. They move towards the fireworks and swarm them.
Due to this "phototaxis", all evil creatures will be close to Lorenzo, and Lorenzo will also be close to them involuntarily, and this will more or less affect the people around him. Lorenzo does not want innocent people to suffer from this. , so he will always be alone unless necessary.
However, something unexpected happened.
Sometimes Lorenzo can't help but wonder if there really is such a thing as "fate" in this world, and whether it was because of Lorenzo's initial intersection with Buscaro that he met again on the death train. to him, and this influence continues to this day.
But who can say clearly about this kind of thing?
"Want a drink?"
Buscaro suddenly shouted. He looked at Lorenzo who was leaning on the window sill and raised the bottle.
"Drink so much during the day?"
"One is to drink, and the other is to be brave."
As Buscaro spoke, he glanced at Lorenzo, and then at the weapon against the wall, which had a dangerous arc. Putting aside Lorenzo's nervousness, in Buscaro's eyes, Lorenzo Renzo is positioned as an urban murderer.
Now a defenseless doctor was alone in a room with a murderer, and Lorenzo understood a little bit that he drank to be emboldened.
Lorenzo just wanted to find a place to rest. He had just experienced such a fierce battle and the explosive knowledge.
Even now, that weird uneasy feeling is still so real, as if somewhere Lorenzo can't see, there is a hundred-eyed monster staring at him, and countless eyeballs are following Lorenzo's Moving and turning, grinding teeth and sucking blood, preparing for the opportunity to kill with one blow.
This is so tiring, so tiring.
Lorenzo thought that killing Lawrence would complete the revenge of the night of Advent, but as he unearthed the past, he found that all this was far from being as simple as he imagined.
No matter how much fuel he added to the fire, it was impossible to illuminate the unfathomable darkness.
"They won't come back?"
Lorenzo tried to relax and then said to Buscaro.
"Who?"
Buscarlo was a little drunk and obviously didn't understand what Lorenzo meant.
"Your wife and daughter," said Lorenzo.
"When I came last time, you were at least still cleaning the room. After all, they would be angry if they came back to see the mess in this place, but now you..."
Lorenzo did not continue to say that they would not come back, so Buscaro didn't care about these things anymore. The house was in a mess. He said he was free, but in fact he was indulgent.
"Mr. Holmes, this is marriage."
Buscaro didn't feel sad at all, he just looked at Lorenzo with wide eyes.
"Okay, actually I was quite sad at first. Even though I was tired of looking at my wife, I still love my daughter very much... But then I got used to it, and I regained the feeling of youth and happiness. no."
Lorenzo seemed to be worrying too much, as Buscaro spoke and started singing and dancing while holding the wine bottle.
No matter before or now, Buscaro is quite afraid of Lorenzo. After all, they have been in trouble since they met. But just like Lorenzo is used to monsters, Buscaro is also used to Lorenzo. Anyway, there is no way to resist, so it is better to enjoy it as soon as possible.
"Wait, are you unemployed?"
Lorenzo saw the bills on the floor, pile after pile.
"Oh... this! There's nothing you can do about it. Overindulgence can be harmful to some extent, such as forgetting to go to work."
Buscaro lost his voice as he spoke. He didn't know whether it was because he didn't want to face Lorenzo or for some other reason. He got himself drunk and lay on the ground and fell asleep.
This feeling is like "I am asleep, you can do whatever you like, as long as you are not around when I wake up".
Lorenzo's expression was complicated, and it seemed that everyone was somewhat neurotic, but people rarely showed this.
After carrying Buscaro back to his bedroom, Lorenzo sat alone on the sofa in the living room, facing the mess in the room. Of course, he had no idea of ​​helping Buscaro tidy up the room, but instead Shermans placed his notes on the table, his eyes serious.
Although there is no evidence to directly prove the "curse of knowledge", Lorenzo can clearly feel the uneasiness. If it weren't for these scruples, Lorenzo might rush to the pump of perpetual motion now and tell these things Merlin.
But he couldn't do it. Maybe he had something special that could avoid the "curse of knowledge", but he didn't dare whether Merlin would really be cursed.
Shermans died for this knowledge, and probably many more throughout history have died for it.
Lorenzo also vaguely understood why there was an obvious sense of chronology in the knowledge of the Evangelical Church. At some time in the past, some people also knew this, but they all died due to the curse. Maybe there were people like Lorenzo In this way, the coming of the curse can be avoided or delayed, but it will also become his exclusive knowledge.
This knowledge cannot be told to others, otherwise the strange curse will spread.
It is like an invisible high wall. Human beings are trapped in the high wall and remain ignorant forever.
……
The feeling of being drunk was really bad. My brain was dizzy and my whole body ached. It felt like I had been beaten up. I struggled to get up from the bed. Buscaro sat on the edge of the bed and looked out the window. .
It was getting dark, the streets were lit up, rumbling iron snakes shuttled tirelessly through the city, and people came and went.
This feeling is really bad, not only being drunk, but also being alone when I wake up.
The dim room was filled with the smell of alcohol and sourness, and he seemed to be living in a beast's lair. The wine bottle was rolling around on the ground, and Buscaro's somewhat embarrassed face was reflected on it.
Freedom is really happy, but excessive joy is followed by loneliness and emptiness. Although Buscaro himself does not want to see his wife, he really misses his daughter. Her mother took her back to her hometown. The town is shrouded in the glory of science and technology, and communication relies entirely on letters.
He couldn't hear her voice or see her face. Thinking of this, Buscaro wanted to pick up the bottle and drink, but then he realized that there was no more wine.
Maybe this is the life state of a middle-aged divorced old man. Buscaro was in a daze until some voices sounded in the living room.
Thief?
Buscaro doesn't care about these things now, anyway, there is nothing valuable at home, but then his eyes became frightened, and as he sobered up, he gradually remembered what happened before he was drunk.
Slowly opening the door, I saw that damn face looking at me kindly.
"Are you awake? Thank you for taking me in."
Lorenzo got dressed, neat and tidy, and dressed himself up in an ordinary way. No one would be able to tell that this seemingly ordinary guy was a murderer on the street.
Buscaro recognized that they were his clothes, because the size was wrong, and Lorenzo looked extremely bloated in his baggy clothes.
"you are leaving?"
Buscaro calmed down and asked.
Lorenzo nodded, and he didn't try to hide anything, hiding those deadly weapons under his coat in front of Buscalo.
"You... are really dedicated. You have to go out to work in the middle of the night."
"midnight?"
Lorenzo was stunned for a moment, then pointed to the clock.
"It's already the second day, and it's going to be dawn soon."
"This..." Buscaro covered his head. He never thought that he had slept for so long. He was a little panicked at first, but then he remembered that he had resigned, so why should he be panicking.
He collapsed on the sofa again, seemingly ready to take a nap.
"Mr. Lorenzo Holmes."
He suddenly stopped Lorenzo who was about to leave. Lorenzo turned around and saw Buscaro getting up from the sofa and saying to himself seriously.
"Don't get married."
"what?"
Lorenzo didn't know if Buscaro hadn't woken up or if he had drunk too much and was acting crazy. He didn't want to explain anything more. After saying this, he lay down holding the only photo at home. The snoring sounded again.
It was just a short rest here. If Lorenzo stayed for a long time, he might cause some trouble. Seeing that Buscaro had no problem, Lorenzo left directly.
The life of a demon hunter is always like this, constantly running around and facing one trouble after another.
It was not that Lorenzo had never rested. After the Night of Holy Advent, he came to Old Dunling and became a detective with a somewhat special style. He lived a fairly peaceful life, but the long period of peace made him forget sometimes. I lost what I was originally, and when all this sin found me again, it all seemed so strange again.
The sky was still gloomy, and cold raindrops fell from time to time, stopping briefly on the street, and then Lorenzo thought about his next destination.
(End of this chapter)