[Zhongyingmei] Hear the sound

"Isn't this just what you hoped for?" After tidying up the slightly messy flowers, Hannibal sat down in front of the girl's bed. In his hand was a book with an elegant cover. Arnott looked at it intently, only See the heartwarming scene on the cover where the kind-hearted gypsy girl Esmeralda feeds water to the ugly bell ringer Quasimodo.

"Notre Dame de Paris".

The overly kind girl and the overly ugly and obedient Quasimodo, the overdone things, are always doomed to be a BE.

"Doctor Hannibal, don't slander me. When do I want Lorelai to die?" The girl on the hospital bed showed a weak smile. Her smile was innocent. With her pale face, she looked like a handsome doctor. A villain who slanders an innocent girl.

Hannibal also laughed, "Arnault, have you faced your heart calmly? When Lorelei's blood fell on your hands, was it happiness or pain that entangled your heart?" It should be an exclamation sentence, but his tone is flat, but it seems to be talking about today's weather, "Look, the shackles and shackles you gave yourself have disappeared, so next, are you going to find new shackles, or To release the dust of death that has been accumulating for so many years?"

Responding to him was the slightly nervous look of the girl holding the sheet tightly.

"But the dust will be washed away by the morning rain, won't it?" She blinked, her slender eyelashes fluttering, as if expressing her master's unsettled mood.

"But you can't deny that wherever your eyes can touch, they are all dust, and nothing can escape dust." The doctor closed the book and stretched out his hand, his slender and beautiful hand, almost looking at this For the first second with her hands, Arnott was thinking how restless she would be if she could hold such a hand, "Even if you can't touch it, you can't deny that there are dust in all directions, the palms and the backs of the hands. "

Dust is everywhere.

Death is everywhere.

"But they don't represent death," the girl retorted.

"Has Miss Arnott ever drank sugar water?"

"of course."

"When you are extremely thirsty, if you drink a glass of sugar water, you will feel that it tastes like nectar and jade dew, so sweet that you will be drunk, but if you drink it in the best dessert shop in the bustling market now Tea, but there is a cup of sugar water in front of you, and you will only feel that it is no better than plain water." The doctor explained slowly, "What does dust represent? Human eyes can never see through it, the only The way is to see who it falls on, and whose glory it will take with it."

After the words fell, Arnott couldn't help but burst out laughing, "Then, Mr. Hannibal has a lot of dust on his body."

She didn't shy away from knowing that she knew so many murder cases in his hands, and she just hinted at it with words.

"Miss Arnott, don't worry, the dust on my body never came from you, and it will never come from you." The man gave her a deep look, and then said warmly.

Perhaps the most beautiful words are when a murderer says to you, "I will never kill you", which violates his love. When you are deeply in love, a man will be willing to restrain you.

【Actually, I didn't get the sweet point myself【Serious face(_)】】

"Dong dong..."

At that moment, Arnott heard her own heartbeat speed up countless times, and it exploded in her chest like thunder.

This man has the ability to seduce anyone, as long as he is willing to seduce someone, no one can escape his palm.

She was unwilling to escape, but even more unwilling to be a caged bird in the opponent's hands.

"Speaking of which, how should our bet be calculated? I didn't kill Lorelei myself." Not wanting to continue this sweet trap-like topic, Arnott turned away, "You are here, and you know that she was killed by Killed 'by mistake' by that reckless cop."

The accent was placed on the word miss.

She couldn't believe that there was such a coincidence that the bullet would have survived and just killed Lorelai.

Luck or something is just an excuse for the weak.

"But she did die in your 'hands'." The man reminded, "When you look at the blood on your hands, don't you feel the slightest pleasure? You don't have the slightest illusion, as if You strangled that innocent girl's life with your own hands, and you are like the Almighty God of Death, controlling their life and death, harvesting the lives of these weak, useless weaklings?"

It's really a clumsy word game, but it's unexpectedly hard to refute.

She couldn't object to what the other said.

Even though she knew intellectually that she should be sad to the point of crying, which was in line with her personality, and Hannibal was there at that time, with him, she did feel the sadness of losing someone very important.

But none of these feelings can compare to the turbulent joy that came from her mind when she had the illusion of "I killed someone".

Arnott twitched the corners of her lips, "Then it's a tie, right? I accept your painting. Similarly, you can also make a reasonable request to me."

After thinking about it, she added, "As long as it is within my ability, I will try my best."

"A request?" The man chuckled, "Miss Arnott was joking, the request at this moment is unavoidably taking advantage of others."

"Is this mercy?"

"Of course not. This is just... a small indulgence after the goal has been achieved."

Arnott had this same nightmare again.

She has been haunted by this dream for many days. Every night when she closes her eyes and falls into a dream, she sees the same scene in front of her eyes.

It was still a dark basement, a girl who was suppressed and could not move, her white body was under the dim light, she was struggling violently to break free, but in the next second a thunderous gunshot sent her to her death. Heaven.

The bullet blasted off her forehead, leaving her face covered in blood. She stared at the scene in front of her with wide eyes, as if she was dying.

Then Arnott woke up.

She subconsciously looked at the time on the watch. It was only early in the morning. She stretched out her hand and gently pressed her forehead. She obviously had a splitting headache and sleepiness every night, but every night she would be awakened by dreams, and then she Will never sleep again until dawn.

The dead are not scary.

Arnott is not afraid of the dead, she has seen many dead people, in the movies, around her, she was even taken by the head of the family to watch them punish the betrayers.

That was true cruelty. Severing hands, feet, and piercing hearts with sharp knives seemed to be the greatest forgiveness for them.

But in those cruel punishments, the executor was not her.

But in her dream, the person who held the gun and fired the bullet that night was herself with a smile on her face.

Although the new detective has been emphasizing that his gun went off rather than that he shot and killed Lorelai on purpose, the cause and effect of this incident are really coincidental, and they cannot be blamed because of the detective's one-sided words. I feel that he is innocent, but I will not forget that he is the real murderer of Lorelai's death because of his cowardly and timid reaction.

The little detective had already been locked up, but Flory came to look for her several times, but was dismissed with various excuses.

In a sense, this is also for the safety of the agents.

Because she was not at home all the year round, and Lorelai lived alone, after discussing with the two of them, almost the entire villa was installed with secret surveillance, and the basement was naturally one of the destinations of being shot.

Flory did not expect that their whims at the time would become ironclad evidence of the detective's murder.

In the viewing room, she watched the scene of Lorelai's unrepentant death in the surveillance. Flory did have a grudge against Arnott's kidnapping, but the resentment dissipated the moment she saw her die. many.

The way dies and the body disappears, and the hatred is exhausted.

In any case, Flory is her most proud student. No matter how many wrong things the other party has done in life, they will be subconsciously ignored in their minds after death.

She went to the FBI like a lunatic and wanted the little agent to pay for his life, but the truth of the matter was so clear that it was impossible for the bureau to send the agent's life to vent her anger.

After tossing and tossing like this for a few days, this morning, the gate guard who had already known the lady did not see Flory who came to the door.

give up?

But looking at the other party's posture these days, it doesn't seem like they can stop in two or three days?

If he couldn't figure it out, he stopped thinking about it, just guarded the door carefully, and started his day's work.

Flory's absence made sense, of course—Lorelai's funeral had already begun.

Arnott attended Lorelei's funeral almost numbly.

The person who put makeup on the corpse was very skilled. In the photos of Lorelai before she died, her distorted expression could hardly be seen after being shot in the head. When it was broken, there were only a few white bones left that shattered when it was knocked.

The staff who led their cremation smashed the bones into ashes and put them in a box. The urn was made of wood, with smooth and beautiful lines, and it was very expensive at first glance.

But what does it matter if things for the dead are expensive or not?

After leaving the cremation room to bury the urn, Arnotte held an umbrella and stood in front of the tombstone with the black-and-white photo of Lorelai, behind her was Flori crying softly, and a deep sadness hovered over the cemetery, The elegy of death was played amidst the cries, mixed with the patter of light rain falling on the umbrella, making a crisp sound.