Wine and Gun

Chapter 154

Herstal didn't answer, in fact he just stood up slowly and turned to face Albarino.

His pupils were dilated and his breathing was short, the result of the adrenaline surging in his blood. It took a moment for Herstal to speak, his voice deep and hoarse, and he asked, "Do you think I'll try to save him?"

"It depends on how empathic you are with this whole thing, but even aside from the facts that I can't speculate on, you're a fascinating mystery," Albarino said, carefully thinning his voice. The part where he couldn't help but smile, the last thing he wanted right now was that Herstal chose to rush over and stab him.

Herstal said, "My 'empathy' about this—"

"Because you and I both understand that morally speaking, we shouldn't accuse the victim of being weak. Although, in terms of what we're doing, talking about 'morality' seems like a joke." Albarino didn't care. He shrugged, still looking directly at Herstal, those green eyes were once again uncomfortable, "But look at yourself, Herstal: you are so angry, this anger is not Just because of what the tasteless guy did - and you're angry at Billy for choosing to run away from it, and you're angry at him for running away as you're angry at yourself; so although of course you can empathize with him, But you don't choose to save him, when you watch the soul leave his body, it's like seeing the same you many years ago."

"Criminal psychologists say you're the one who can't empathize with humans," Herstal sneered.

"That's because you're too close to me at every level. I understand that you don't mean to overturn Olga's research results." Albarino let himself smile, and at this moment The longest line of blood on Billy's body was already running over the soles of Herstal's shoes, and it looked like a bright red slender vine that could drag the man standing there into the abyss. .

Then he asked: "Although it doesn't make any sense to discuss time travel now, but, assuming you have such a chance to go back in time, would you really allow yourself to die in the moment of suicide?"

"This topic really doesn't make any sense," Herstal replied coldly.

"From the point of view of psychologists, this matter shows great significance." Albarino snorted, but apparently compromised, "If you insist, let's go back to reality: you intend to What to do with that guy?"

——The "that guy" in his mouth was desperately trying to crawl to the door to escape after no one stopped him at the door. One of his hands was dislocated, the other had a knife in his shoulder, and both legs were still bleeding. In this case, Sharp twisted his slightly movable arm and the other shoulder to crawl towards the door, and the wound under his body dragged a long bloodstain on the floor.

The scene looks like a classic scene from a horror movie, and as soon as he comes out, he will die and run back to the monster behind him desperately trying to escape, but the monster will soon grab his ankle and drag him back down. , knowing that the unfortunate protagonist found his extremely miserable body.

The reality was probably not far behind, and Albarino watched for a moment as Sharp tried to crawl toward the door, then looked back at Herstal again. Even if this person is no longer a threat to him, Herstal's body language is still tense, and his breathing is steady, but Albarino guesses that his heart is still beating like thunder.

They were immersed in a pan of murmured groans and the expected rustling of despair against the floor, and Herstal stared at the thrilling red bloodstain and the man's writhing body before he simply said, "Leave him alone. give me."

"Of course," Albarino gave him a wide smile, although he knew that Herstal was not in the mood to see this smile. "Happy to serve."

Albarino has never seen Herstal in "working condition" - either in court or on such a mysterious night. Of course that night at his house was not counted, because that incident was originally mixed with too many personal emotions. Since they all knew that the victim would survive in the end, then everything before, no matter how real or painful, would still be worth it. Pointless.

And now he watched as Herstal dragged Sharp back into the middle of the house, adding another bright stroke to the bloodstains on the floor. Sharp, still humming in desperation, let out a sudden cry as Herstal drew the knife from his shoulder.

But all this was of no use. He was turned over by Herstal, lying on the ground like a lamb to be slaughtered, flapping as wildly as he could. But apparently it all made no sense, and Herstal pinched his knee on his shoulder and pinched his chin with his hand.

—He wasn't wearing gloves, thought Albarino. He thought about his previous assertions, because rǔ glue and leather didn't feel intimate enough when they were attached to his fingers, and he was sure that if Herstal took the internal organs from the victim's open abdominal cavity, he would not wear it. Gloves. As for the time at his home in Albarino, he was wearing gloves absolutely only because he wanted to preserve the bloodstains on the ground intact, so he couldn't sweep the floor.

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