Ember’s Gun

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Lorenzo doesn’t think he will have anything to do with the gentle word “home”, but every time he sees Old Turin again after he is born to death, Lorenzo will feel a so-called “home” kindness.

The machine never stops working, the fire in the furnace burns and rises, the heavy rain rushes in the channel, and finally returns to the River Thames.

Even this damn rainy season cannot stop the rotation of this society. Umbrellas converge into a river and run through the streets of the city. Iron Snake is like a fish swimming, moving forward with the sound of a steam whistle, or opening in a rush of steam. Countless mermaid jumped out of the car door.

Under the serpent system of the atrium, the traffic in the entire city is still running in an orderly manner, but the carriage that symbolizes identity and wealth inside here is ridiculous. Compared with the advanced machinery, it has become backward… A few years ago, horse-drawn carriages could be seen everywhere on the streets, but nowadays they are becoming fewer and fewer with the development of machinery.

Sometimes people even think that this city is alive, it is growing and changing, just like a big tree, with its own ecological system, steel and machinery.

Lorenzo was standing in a corner of the street, his body wet with dirty blood.

Because of the rainy season, war airships dived one after another, and the main force of urban security supervision became mounted police. They braved the heavy rain and marched on the streets.

Judging from the current complicated situation, Lorenzo didn’t want to disturb anyone, and he had just escaped from the dead. Lorenzo now only hopes to return to 121A Cork Street safely and sleep well on the big bed he is familiar with.

The clothes are in tatters, and without an umbrella, he may be regarded as a stranger who sneaked in from the lower city district.

Lorenzo thought so, and then approached the street. He was thinking about whether to rob a passerby’s umbrella and clothes. He was about to do it, and then he saw a familiar face.

……

The man walked slowly on the street under an umbrella. After coming out of the divorce grief, he slowly discovered the joy of life. He could sleep in the living room, in the kitchen, and fool around all day. You can also get yourself drunk in the toilet.

He was extremely free, and for a moment he felt that the first half of his life was simply living under bondage, and he had to look forward and backward in everything he did, and he had to take into account the thoughts of others.

Now he feels great, with the fine wine in his bag, even the soggy steam has become milder.

Life is really good, knowing that he saw a tramp-like guy appearing in front of him, he couldn’t see him a little bit, but as he approached, his face gradually became frightened.

Looking back and forth for 4 weeks, he tried to find a place to dodge, but he was still too slow and was about to move. One hand grabbed his umbrella handle, and the two people rode together under the same umbrella. , Like a pair of close friends.

“Long time no see! Director Boscaro!”

Looking at the nasty expression and sniffing the bloody smell close at hand, Boscaro’s expression was as uncomfortable as eating a fly, but the hard part of life is here. Obviously this guy in front of him is extremely annoying, but Boscaro still Must show an Old Friend expression.

“Okay…long time no see, Mr. Holmes.”

……

147 Hammoling Street.

Lorenzo took off his damp clothes and wore the clothes Boscaro handed him. It may be a difference in size. Lorenzo felt like he was wearing a nightgown in his clothes.

Boscaro’s home is very large. He and his wife and a daughter lived here before, but after the divorce his wife left with her daughter, and only Boscaro was left in this empty room.

Lorenzo still remembers the scene here when he “illegal invasion” last time. The house was very tidy, everything was in order, full of the sense of life, but now wine bottles are rolling on the ground, clothes and sundries are piled up on the ground, and there are still some corners. It exudes the sour smell of hell, as if there are some savages living here.

Sitting on the messy sofa, Boscaro took out the bought wine from the bag, without paying attention to any sense of ceremony, biting the stopper and blowing on the bottle, Lorenzo couldn’t help but admire his grandeur.

One of the reasons Lorenzo does not like to make friends is that he has secret blood on his body, and this taboo secret blood will attract evil things.

This is also explained in Shermans’ notes, which Shermans refers to as “phototaxis.”

In the endless darkness, Lorenzo, carrying secret blood, is like a spot of light, attracting the moths in the darkness. They moved towards the fireworks and swarmed.

Because of this “phototaxis”, all evil spirits will approach Lorenzo, and Lorenzo will also involuntarily approach them, and this will more or less affect people around them. Lorenzo does not want innocent people to suffer from this, so unless necessary, otherwise He will always be alone.

But something unexpected happened.

Sometimes Lorenzo can’t help but wondering whether there really is a “fate” this thing in this world, and whether Lorenzo’s initial intersection with Boscaro caused him to see him again on the train of death, and this effect is again Has continued to the present.

But who can tell this kind of thing clearly?

“Want to have a drink?”

Boscaro shouted suddenly. He looked at Lorenzo by the window sill and raised the bottle.

“Drink so much during the day?”

“One is to drink it, 2 is to be bold.”

Boscaro said and glanced at Lorenzo, then at the weapon against the wall, with dangerous arcs shining on it. After putting aside Lorenzo’s neuroticism, in Boscaro’s eyes, Lorenzo was positioned as an urban murderer.

Now that an unarmed doctor and a murderer are alone in the room, Lorenzo also understands a little bit that he has grown courageous by drinking.

Lorenzo just wanted to find a place to take a break, having just experienced such a fierce battle, and that explosive knowledge.

Even now, the strange feeling of anxiety is still so real, as if there are 100 eyes of a monster staring at him out of Lorenzo’s sight, and countless eyeballs are moving with Lorenzo’s movement. Grinding teeth and sucking blood, preparing for the opportunity of one strike certain kill.

This is really exhausting, exhausting.

Lorenzo thought that killing Lawrence would be able to complete Night of Advent’s revenge, but as he explored the past, he found that all this was far less simple than he thought.

No matter how much firewood he adds to the fire, it is difficult to illuminate this deep and unmeasurable darkness.

“Aren’t they coming back?”

Lorenzo tried to relax, then said to Boscaro.

“Who?”

Boscaro was a little drunk and obviously didn’t understand what Lorenzo meant.

“Your wife, and your daughter.” Lorenzo said.

“When I came last time, you were at least cleaning the room. After all, they would be angry if they came back to see this mess, but now you…”

Lorenzo didn’t go on talking, they won’t come back, so Boscaro didn’t care about these things anymore. The room was messy, saying it was free, but in fact it was indulgence.

“Mr. Holmes, this is marriage.”

Boscaro didn’t feel the slightest sadness, but looked at Lorenzo with wide eyes.

“Well, I was actually quite sad at the beginning. Even though I was tired of watching my wife, I still loved my daughter… But then I got used to it. I found the feeling of being young again, happy. No way.”

Lorenzo seemed to worry too much, Boscaro said and sang and danced with his wine bottle.

Both before and now, Boscaro is quite afraid of Lorenzo. After all, they were terrible from the beginning of their encounter, but just like Lorenzo is used to Demon, Boscaro is also used to Lorenzo, anyway, he can’t resist, it is better to have fun early.

“Wait, are you unemployed?”

Lorenzo saw the bills on the ground, pile after pile.

“Oh… this! There is no other way. Excessive indulgence will also be a bit bad, such as forgetting to go to work.”

As Boscaro said, he lost his voice. He didn’t know if he didn’t want to face Lorenzo or why, he got himself drunk and fell asleep on the ground.

This feeling is like “I’m asleep, what do you like to do, as long as I wake up and you are not there”.

Lorenzo has a complicated expression, and everyone seems to be a bit nervous, but everyone rarely reveals this.

Carrying Boscaro back to his bedroom, Lorenzo sat on the sofa in the living room alone, facing the mess in the room. Of course, he had no idea of ​​helping Boscaro clean up the room, but put Shermans’ notes on the table. His eyes were solemn.

Although there is no evidence to directly prove the “curse of knowledge”, Lorenzo can clearly feel the uneasiness. If it weren’t for this, Lorenzo might rush to the perpetual motion pump now and tell Merlin these things.

But he couldn’t do it. Perhaps he had some special features to avoid the “curse of knowledge”, but he didn’t dare whether Merlin would really be cursed.

Shermans died for this knowledge, and there may be more people in history who have died because of it.

Lorenzo also vaguely understood why the knowledge of Evangelion Church has an obvious sense of generation. At a certain time in the past, some people also knew about this, but they were all dead because of the curse. Maybe someone like Lorenzo could Avoid or delay the curse, but it will also become his exclusive knowledge.

This knowledge cannot be told to others, otherwise the weird curse will also spread.

Like an invisible high wall, human beings are besieged inside the high wall and remain ignorant forever.

……

The feeling of being drunk is really bad, the brain is dizzy, and the whole body hurts. It feels like I was beaten by someone, and I got up from the bed with great effort. Boscaro sat on the edge of the bed and looked out the window.

The sky is getting dark, the street lights up, the Iron Snake of hong long long shuttles tirelessly inside the city, people coming, people going.

This feeling is really bad, not only because of drunkenness, but also when I wake up alone.

The dim room was full of wine and sour smell, and I seemed to be living in a wild beast’s lair, with wine bottles rolling on the ground, reflecting Boscaro’s embarrassed face.

Freedom is real happiness, but after excessive joy, there is loneliness and emptiness. Although Boscaro himself does not want to see his wife, he does miss his daughter very much. Her mother took her back to her home town, where Shrouded by Glory, which is not in technology, communication depends entirely on letters.

He couldn’t hear her voice, nor could he see her face. Thinking about this, Boscaro wanted to pick up the bottle and swig again, but only then realized that there was no wine.

Maybe this was the life of a middle-aged divorced old man. Boscaro was in a daze until a little voice sounded in the living room.

Thief?

Boscaro didn’t care about this anymore. There was nothing valuable in the house anyway, but his gaze became horrified. As he sobered up, he gradually remembered what he had done before drunk.

Slowly pushing the door open, I saw that damn face, looking at me kindly.

“Are you awake? Thank you for taking in.”

Lorenzo was dressed, neat and tidy, and dressed himself very ordinary, and no one could tell that this seemingly ordinary guy was a murderer when he put it on the street.

Boscaro recognized that it was his clothes. Lorenzo looked bloated in his large clothes because of the wrong size.

“you are leaving?”

Boscaro calmed down and asked.

Lorenzo nodded, he didn’t do anything to cover up, hiding those deadly weapons under his coat in front of Boscaro.

“You…really dedicated to your work, you have to go out to work most of the night.”

“midnight?”

Lorenzo was taken aback, then pointed to the clock.

“It’s 2nd day, and it’s about to dawn.”

“This…” Boscaro covered his head. He didn’t expect that he had been asleep for so long, and he was a little flustered, but then he remembered that he had resigned.

The whole person slumped on the sofa again, seemingly ready to go back to sleep.

“Mr. Lorenzo Holmes.”

He suddenly stopped Lorenzo who was about to leave. Lorenzo turned his head and saw Boscaro got up from the sofa and said to himself with a serious face.

“Don’t get married.”

“what?”

Lorenzo didn’t know if Boscaro was awake, or he was drunk crazy again. He didn’t want to explain more. After saying this, he lay down holding the only picture taken at home, and snored again. Up.

It’s just a short break here. If Lorenzo stays for a long time, it might cause some trouble. Seeing that there is nothing wrong with Boscaro, Lorenzo just left.

Demon Hunter people’s life is always like this, constantly running around to meet one trouble after another.

Lorenzo is not without rest. After Night of Advent, he came to Old Turin and became a detective with a special style. He lived a fairly peaceful life, but the long-term peace made him sometimes forget that he was originally What, when all this sin finds itself again, all this looks so strange again.

The sky was still gloomy, and cold raindrops fell from time to time in the sky, stopping briefly on the street, and then Lorenzo thought about his next destination.