Wine and Gun

Herstal shook his head: "Then I can only interpret what you just said as, you are justifying my behavior?"

"It's not very accurate, I'm just stating the fact that 'you are different'. Because we all know that excuses are meaningless - we are guilty in terms of universal values ​​and law, but we are not These beliefs are bound. Some people will say, 'The pianist is an overly bào vigilante, and everything he does is actually positive for society,' and we all know that's just a ridiculous lie."

Albarino explained, at the same time putting a piece of hamburger meat into his mouth with a fork: he chewed on the beef, but Herstal was always suspicious of this meat for him and the kind he had handled and had long ago It doesn't make any difference either; he doesn't eat his prey because it means nothing to him, just as a pianist kills a criminal because he follows in the footsteps of his own sinful desires, and those crimes mean nothing to him. Meaningless in general.

"The reason you're different from them is that you've never yielded to the most vulgar desires, and you've appeared to me in a form of beauty, and that's what it's all about - by the way, you and I both know that pianist The case is not a real 'qiángjian'."

"So it all revolves around your senses?" Herstal sneered.

"Why don't you think so? Didn't Protagoras say, 'Man is the measure of all things, the measure of the existence of things that exist, and the measure of the non-existence of things that do not exist'?" Albarino replied lightly and cheerfully.

"It's too arrogant to think so," Herstal replied in a low voice.

And Albarino just smiled: "It is true."

They were silent for a moment, but the silence was interrupted by the low vibrating buzz of Albarino's phone. Albarino pulled the phone out and unlocked it casually—Herstal thought, wondering if the code to unlock his phone was still '0725'—Albarino looked at some new message on the screen, then slowly Tun Tun smiled.

"I have some talking friends at WLPD," Albarino said lightly. Herstal has reason to believe that the "friend who can talk" actually refers to the "black policeman who can help people with money". With Albarino's degree of caution, the black policeman he contacted may not be at all. Don't know who he is. "He helped me see what happened to Billy - the life teacher who hurt him was Anthony Sharp, who lost his job after this incident and is still homeless."

Herstal looked at each other sharply: "What do you want to say?"

Albarino's fingertips tapped the table rhythmically, a swaying white in the sunlight. He continued without hesitation: "And the journalist named Leohard Schreiber is famous, and you can find a lot of information about him with a little Google—you know the international famous one last year. A case? In a small Nordic country called Hoxton?"

Hestal thought for a while, and pulled out some exaggerated reports from the world in the second half of last year: "In that country, there was a terrorist who devoted himself to extremist religion, bombed a lot of churches, and kidnapped a red The bishop?"

Albarino shrugged, clearly saying he was right: "Hoxton is a nice country, it's beautiful, I went there once on a trip around Europe. And the terrorist bombed the first time. A church - said to be an art treasure designed by Kyle Harriet - bang and nothing."

His voice sounded genuine regret, but there was always a strange smile on his face. Albarino paused and continued: "So you can imagine how much attention this case has received. After this case is over, the reporter who has the exclusive right to report the final conclusion of this event is that Riohard. Schubert."

"It sounds like he's capable, so why leave Europe?" Herstal asked.

"Who knows. Some people say that because he digs news unscrupulously, he has provoked some people who shouldn't be provoked." Albarino said slowly, smiling and shaking the little finger of his right hand, "Anyway, this reporter thinks to himself. There's a terrifying obsession with things he's chasing -- things he doesn't know how dangerous it is, and I think you know that enough."

Herstal looked at him warily: "What are you trying to say?"

"What I'm trying to say is, these two people: a former high school teacher with a bad moral character, and a well-known but seemingly unethical journalist...Which of these would you choose to hunt?" Albarino asked, using a He rested his chin in his hand, looking almost curious.

"Is that what you're after?" Herstal replied grimly, putting his fork back on his plate, completely losing his appetite. "Use me as a marionette, watch me kill, and get a cheap thrill out of it?"

"That's not what I meant," Albarino said solemnly, and he suppressed the shining smile in his eyes, but unfortunately it was just an illusion, "Herstal, we are not puppets and puppets. The relationship between ventriloquists, I will not speak for you - from this perspective, have you heard of that fairy tale?"

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