How to put on the character of Wen Haozai in front of Buteizai

This is how the same thing?

If that's not my mother, and this isn't my home, then who am I?

Where is the missing child?

After reading the diary, Osamu Dazai thought this way, he has confirmed that he cannot be a child of this family.Since this is not my home, there is no way I can find evidence related to my identity in this place.

Dazai Osamu who thought this way walked to the bathroom, first patted his cheek with his hand, and then began to rummage through the pockets of his clothes.

The home is not my own, nor is my mother...but the model of the clothes I wear is my own, not that of a little girl.In other words, if you want to find your own identity, you can only rummage through these clothes that belong to you.

Osamu Dazai kept rummaging through the box and cabinet, and then found a mobile phone in the pocket of the fourth piece of clothing on the right side of the closet.

After seeing that mobile phone, she was covered up under those exaggerated memories; indeed, her own memories began to emerge.

He, Osamu Dazai, is a child of the Tsushima family and one of the famous writers.

His father is proud and ferocious, like a terrifying beast that devours everything; his mother is cold and distant, always looking at his brothers; his brothers and sisters are reserved and complicated, like an incomprehensible twist monster.

In order to overcome the unconcealable fear when facing them, I had to put on one blank mask after another on my face early on, so how could this kind of warm and ordinary mother and family affection be my own? Can have it?

Osamu Dazai laughed at himself, then entered the phone's frequency lock code, and then forwarded the email message to other people who came to the apartment with him.

[I have recovered, how about you? 】

"Mom, I'm going out!" After clarifying the matter, he walked out of his room, said goodbye to the middle-aged woman, took the key next to the shoe cabinet, pushed open the door of the living room, and went to the end of the corridor Go in the direction of the stairs.

He saw his house number marked [-] and the large number six marked on the stairs, and immediately sent this part of the information through his mobile phone.

[My house is on the sixth floor, and I'm going out for a while. 】

On the other side, Kawabata Yasunari and Dazai Osamu woke up at about the same time, and he looked up at his bedroom.

The brown wallpaper was clean, without any trace of stains, it was very obvious that it was often cleaned by others.

An old-fashioned air conditioner is installed on the upper right wall. Below the air conditioner is a wooden chair with a pair of jeans and a black men's shirt stacked on top of it.

This is supposed to be my replacement clothes?He thought a little dullly, then turned his head and looked at the desk on the left.

It was a desk separated by black and white. The desk was made of black wood texture. The drawers below and the compartment for the keyboard were all painted white. The whole style looked very simple and elegant.

On the desk is a laptop computer, and on the right is a bookcase that separates files. On the side of the bookcase is a room card with [-] written on it. gray drinking glass.

This overall sexual and cold style, as well as the file record information he saw after he got up from the bed and turned on the computer, all showed that the owner of this house was a typical IT elite man with a cleanliness obsession.

But......

Kawabata Yasunari pushed his glasses with some doubts, feeling that the memories related to IT. work that emerged in his mind were very unreal.

Are you really an IT office worker in a so-called big company?

At this moment, the voice of "Didi...Didi..." came from the direction of the chair that gave up the black shirt. Kawabata Yasunari walked over, opened the clothes and then It was found that at the bottom; there was a cell phone that was ringing.

This is......? !

A whole three sets of constantly impacting memories are fighting in my mind - the shallowest memory of the so-called IT elite man, hypnotized in order to cover up his purpose and approach the target person to be assassinated logically Memories, and finally the memories of the members of the Secret Service who really belonged to them...

These memories were kneaded together, which made him feel a little headache.

Kawabata Yasunari leaned his whole body against the wall, put his left hand on the old-fashioned TV to support himself, then picked up the phone tremblingly, and typed word by word on it with some effort.

[Sorry, I have a headache, maybe I have a fever. 】

【Excuse me, do you have antipyretics over there?Please send me to the third floor if you have one. 】

Next was Kajii Keijiro, who had just woken up and looked at his chaotic room, a deep sense of disgust welled up in his heart from nowhere.

It's been less than three months since I moved here, how did the apartment look like this?

For the first time in my memory, I took the initiative to walk to the right corner of the living room, and took out the broom and dustpan that were placed there.Just as he was about to sweep the floor, he saw a mass of jet-black silk thread tangled together around the edge of the broom.

"This is how the same thing?"

He took out the silk thread, looked at it and muttered to himself: "It looks a bit similar to human hair, but only girls have this length, right?"

But for a great magician like myself, where did the woman's hair come from at home?

In order to verify his conjecture, Kajii Jijiro walked to the kitchen with the hair, and then found the lighter placed there.

The moment it came into contact with the flame, the long black thread shrank like a natural enemy, and at the same time emitted a stench of burnt protein.

It really is human hair!

Kajii Jijiro intends to find the source of this hair. He rented this apartment with a gray-haired elderly man three months ago.

Because I came here temporarily for work and vacation, I signed a contract for almost half a year at that time, but now there are young women's hair in this apartment.

You must know that this great magician of mine has never had a girlfriend, let alone invited female friends to his home... As for the landlord, where is the young woman from the home of a single old man in his 80s? ? !

If he doesn't clarify this matter, his natural stubbornness will make him helpless.

While cleaning the room, Kajii Keijiro explored the entire apartment inside and out, and finally found a small wooden box under the bed in the side sleeper that had been sealed for a long time.

And this side sleeper was also covered with dust because it had been sealed for too long.

He reached for the box with his hands, trying to pull it out.

But the box was unexpectedly heavy, and he couldn't move it for a long time.

In the end, Kejiro Kajii, who had no strength, sat down on the ground, watching the mattress and sheets being lifted off by himself, leaving only a small bed with a wooden frame...

Maybe the bed is lighter than the box?

On a whim, he put his feet on the bookshelf not far away and supported the edge of the bed with both hands, trying to push the bed shelf away.

Crack...Crack...Crack...

The bed was pushed away a little bit, but maybe it was because of excessive force, he didn't stand still and knocked directly to the ground.

The high bridge of the nose made intimate contact with the ground, and a severe pain swept through the whole body at once.

Well--

It hurts! ! !

Kejiro Kajii covered the bridge of his nose with his hands, and physiological tears dripped from his eye sockets because of the pain.He smashed the table angrily, then jumped up because of the pain from his hand, screaming and shaking his left hand continuously.

It hurts... hurts, hurts?Pain ~ pain!

He hopped while shaking his hands, maybe the push bed had already been pushed almost, when he hopped, he accidentally bumped into the edge of the bed, so the whole wooden frame bed was lifted from left to right.

Boom-!

When Kajii Keijiro was hugging his calf and screaming in pain, he was startled by a loud noise, so he stared blankly at the bed board on his left that had been unable to solve it before, and led him to the current situation. Turned over.

Could it be that this is the so-called kick at the door...?

Seeing the wooden box revealed, Kajii Keijiro jumped on it excitedly.

This is a plain wooden box, and it weighs at least one hundred and eighty catties, which can be said to be very heavy.The whole box looks very quiet, except for an iron lock with a diamond-shaped hole in the very center.

But Kajii Keijiro has neither a key nor a lock, and this question looks very strong, and it cannot be opened with a lockpicking tool or other things.

How to do this?

Kejiro Kajii was very annoyed that he could not solve the final mystery when he got the things, and he was so annoyed that he almost scratched his head.

Thinking that it’s impossible, let’s try to see a blind cat meet a dead mouse. Maybe Kejiro Kajii, who can find the key, opened all the cabinets and drawers in the house, and checked them all carefully...

The keys were not found, but a cell phone was found.

When touching the mobile phone, a memory swirls out of his mind like a wild horse that has run free, and the problem that troubled him before has a solution in an instant.

Kajii Keijiro didn't even have time to send text messages to other people, so he rushed to his side with the aqua regia he carried with him.

stab... stab...

The moment the aqua regia and the iron lock came into contact, they transformed into a dark, viscous substance, and a pungent and unpleasant smell came out.

The author has something to say: Regarding the situation after amnesia, it seems that Kajii is the most unlucky~

One of the other two was taken care of, so it could be said that they had enough to eat and drink. Although the other one didn't get much treatment, at least they recovered their memory safely.

Only him, only Kajii, who worked so hard to do housework, found something and threw himself like that, his calf was injured, the bridge of his nose was injured, and his face was almost disfigured...

Miserable is really miserable, let us mourn for him.

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