Zhou Lin

2218, autumn, Naples.

In the hinterland of the city, there is such a remote place. It is called "White Pigeon" and it is a bar that not many people know about.

Even the residents who live nearby don't know exactly how many years this place has been open. They only know that... whenever night falls, "White Dove" will open on time.

Of course, if you know it, they won't come to visit.

The storefront is less than 100 square meters, the dull music has not changed forever, the waitress is now an aunt, the bartender with a serious face... are not attractive factors.

But here, it is still open every day, rain or shine, and never stops.

Just like tonight, just after eight o'clock, a bartender wearing a suit and vest with gray temples opened the door of the "White Pigeon" facing the street and leading to the basement, and moved a folded billboard out of the store and placed it there. Got up and placed it in front of the store.

After putting up the billboard, he turned around and returned to the store and behind the bar; then, he stood upright and silently, waiting for customers to come.

There are not many guests here, but people come every day.

Usually, before midnight, there would be a dozen or so people sitting in the store, and today was no exception.

These guests were either sitting and drinking alone, or talking in pairs; although their glasses were filled with genuine spirits, each of them seemed very quiet and sober...

Danglanglang...

At midnight, the small bell above the store door rang. When the door was closed again, another customer walked into the store along the steps.

It was a man in a black suit, his appearance looked ordinary, just like the countless men in suits you see and ignore on the street every day.

But at this moment, everyone in the bar turned their attention to him and stared at him the moment he entered...

Surprise, doubt, curiosity, excitement, fear... just because of his appearance, various emotions have spread in this not-so-large space.

In the corner, the old record player was still playing classic jazz, but apart from the music, the other sounds in the room... seemed to have disappeared.

The man in the suit didn't react to the weird atmosphere. He walked to the bar and sat down as if nothing had happened. He took out a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket and took one out and put it in his mouth.

"I thought you had quit smoking." The bartender came up to him. As he said this, he took out a lighter and reached over to help him light a cigarette.

"I quit smoking," the man in the suit said after puffing on the cigarette, "but he started smoking again."

"When did you smoke it?" The bartender helped the other party light the fire and took back the lighter.

"Now." The man in the suit replied calmly.

"Are you going to stop thinking about it? Jack." The bartender looked at him and continued seriously, "After all...it's not easy to quit."

"I know." Jack nodded, looking at the bartender with a grateful look, "Thank you, Charles, but I...have decided."

Upon hearing this, the bartender looked at Jack quietly for a few seconds, and then said, "Okay." He took out a bottle of wine from under the table, and quickly and skillfully placed a cup and coaster on the bar. "I'll buy this cup."

As he spoke, he poured Jack a glass of wine.

"Hmph...hehehe..." At this moment, another young customer sitting at the bar suddenly laughed.

His position was very close to Jack, with only one seat between them; from the moment Jack entered the door to this second, the guest had always looked at Jack, but for some reason, he laughed inexplicably at this moment The sound comes.

"Charles, are you kidding?" The guest looked at the bartender and said with a smile, "You don't want to tell me..." He said, glancing at Jack again, "This man... is Jack Anderson ?”

"Bing Zhi, if you want to shut up, now is definitely a good time." Before the bartender could reply, the bald guest sitting at a small table two meters away responded first.

The "ice finger" in his mouth obviously refers to the guy who is laughing.

"Did I talk to you?" When Bingzhi heard this, he immediately put away his smile, turned to look at the bald head and said coldly, "What if I end up needing a second-rate guy to teach me how to do things? , I’ll be the first to let you know, but for now, can you please stay out of my fucking way?”

The bald man did not respond to his words, but shook his head helplessly, raised the wine on his table and took a sip.

Seeing his reaction, Bingzhi seemed quite satisfied. A trace of pride flashed in his eyes, and he looked at Jack again: "Hey, man, are you really Jack Anderson? That 'Jack Anderson' '?"

He repeated the same question twice, and the second time he deliberately used a tone similar to "I don't believe it."

But Jack ignored him and just continued to look at the bartender and said, "Do you still serve free almonds here, Charles?"

The bartender looked at him deeply, hesitated for two seconds, then turned around, took a few seconds, took a small plate of almonds, and placed it on the counter in front of Jack.

"Thank you." Jack thanked him immediately.

"Hey! Hey! I'm talking to you, man." Bingzhi raised his voice and shouted to Jack, "Are you deaf?"

Of course, Jack was not deaf. He waited for two seconds, turned his head expressionlessly, and looked at Bingzhi: "Do you like almonds, kid?"

"Child?" Bingzhi sneered when he heard the title, "Ha... you want to show off as a senior in front of me? Listen up, 'old guy', I don't care if you are really Jack Anderson, even if you Yes, I don’t think there’s anything great about you. Most of the outdated so-called ‘legends’ like you are just in name, relying on mutual praise among peers..."

"So..." Jack interrupted before he could finish, "What do you rely on?"

"Huh?" Bingzhi didn't understand.

"Since you look down on the old guys who are in vain, then... you must have some kind of capital that makes you feel superior." Jack took a sip of wine and asked, "What is that?"

"Hmph...ha." Bingzhi smiled dryly and glanced at the other guests in the bar.

At this moment, those people were undoubtedly looking at him.

"Okay~ okay, I don't blame you." After a few seconds, Bingzhi shrugged, "I heard that you have been retired for several years, so I can forgive you for not knowing..." He paused for half a second and said proudly, "Listen up... I am the European branch of Qian Ming... uh... uh... cough... ah cough... ah cough cough cough..."

In the middle of saying this, he suddenly turned pale and fell from the high chair, clutching his chest.

No one knows what happened...

From the perspective of an onlooker, Jack was just sitting there drinking and eating snacks without even touching the ice.

But under this situation, Bingzhi inexplicably developed severe coughing and difficulty breathing. After coughing a few times, he even coughed up a large mouthful of blood and vomited it on the ground.

"I'll come again tomorrow, Charles." On the other hand, Jack still greeted the bartender calmly and nonchalantly as when he came. After drinking the wine in the glass, he turned and left the bar. Walked out of the bar.

After his back disappeared from the door, the bartender shifted his gaze and glanced at Bingzhi who was still coughing up blood on the ground with his cold eyes. Then he raised his eyes to look at another customer in the store and said in a very ordinary tone: " If you are calling an ambulance for your friend, ask them to park at the end of the alley, not in front of the store."