Wine and Gun

It's like a chess game, but the pieces they control are more realistic and cruel.

At this moment, Emma held the receiver tightly, and the heavy snow outside the window was like burnt dust. In the silence she heard her own heartbeat, the drum of war that never rested in the darkness.

"...Because I like my job at the A\u0026H law firm." Emma thought for a while and said hesitantly. She didn't know how to say it. It seemed that no matter how she answered this question, the information revealed in her words revealed too much of herself, "In Westland... it seems that there are more opportunities to engage in related work."

"So," said Dr. Bucks, smiling, but still terribly poignant, "do you like the work of defending criminals?"

"A lot of people think this kind of work is immoral or even illegal," Mr. Armalette said, almost as if the two of them could hear the other's thinking, a terrifying tacit understanding. of people who have escaped the law, so they are contributing to this evil."

Emma looked at each other - those fearsome blue eyes that had looked at so many criminals he had helped them escape to heaven and then killed them with his own hands, an act that sounded so contradictory. At this moment, he was talking about what he had done before, and what others had said about him, but he was too calm anyway, obviously he didn't care at all.

Then Emma hesitated to say her answer.

"That depends on how we define 'legal'," she whispered. "I certainly think that a lawyer can make a plan for a criminal to get out in court, but not give perjury -- no matter the client himself. Whether it is a violation of the law, the behavior of the lawyer itself must be within the legal framework... Many people think that defending these criminals is immoral, and people should feel ashamed for this... But I have no such concerns myself. ."

Having said that, according to Armalite's testimony at the trial, he made perjury in the Slade case, which is one of the reasons why the law firm closed so quickly and Emma could never find a job.

So Emma had to pause, and she swallowed hard, feeling the sand in her throat.

"Because it's just—" Emma explained, "work, and then win. Winning is immoral."

"So, you're okay with defending criminals, but only if your own defense strategies are within the legal limits, right?" Amarette concluded briefly.

Emma hesitated for a moment, wondering if her answer was what Amalette wanted to hear, but in the end, she still answered, "Yes."

"I think it's more than that—you look like you're having fun with it," Dr. Backus pointedly pointed out, his chin resting on the back of his hand looking like he was having fun, and his green eyes looking like Bright enough to feel creepy.

Amalette looked at her with interest, like some kind of huge carnivore watching the little rabbit that suddenly appeared on his territory. Maybe Emma's answer really made him feel to some extent. Interesting. Then he blinked and asked, almost briskly, "Do you think this is a game?"

Emma raised her head suddenly, her voice slightly sharp: "What?"

"A game," Dr. Bucks explained to Armalite so eloquently, as if he was born to make the right footnotes for the other side, "to win in complex and difficult situations, who do you serve? It doesn't matter, it matters that the whole process is risky enough - what you need is not grievances, but the joy of victory in extreme situations."

Emma stared at him, looking like a frying critter from every angle, she bit her lip for a long time, then asked, "If I answer 'yes', will I lose my job?"

She was not interviewed by Armalite when she joined the law firm, and Holmes took the last part of the interview with a smile. Emma knew very well that it was absolutely impossible for Holmes to pass the interview. A law firm does not need a lawyer who is too thrill-seeking, let alone a game of life. They should have realized long ago that it is dangerous to go to work with some strange and bizarre passion that sooner or later burns something, mostly themselves.

And Armalite just said: "I already understand your answer."

"So," Bacchus said in a very sympathetic tone, "you stayed in Westerland only because the city was good enough for you, and it had enough . . . evil."

Emma stared at Bacchus' smiling face. He looked like a demon in Goethe's poetic play, which made people unconsciously reveal the darkest desires in their hearts. Then she murmured, "Yes."

Bacchus made a soft whisper, then turned to look at Armalite, with enough ridicule in his voice: "You really picked a suitable assistant for yourself at that time."

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