Wine and Gun

This is how you should get along with Albarino Bacchus: you have to give him a clear answer, "yes" or "no", ambiguity or ignoring the result is often that you will run away with him, this person is after all. Stalker is extremely talented.

"I just want to make you happy" - how humane it is to say this, a child would say it when he came home with a report card and tremblingly see his parents, and a man would also say it when he gave his girlfriend an undesired gift With that said, flattering words are one of the least effortless sentences to spit out fluently.

——And at this moment, Herstal Armalite is silently reviewing the many mistakes in his strategy towards Albarino.

It was March 11, Saturday night, it was not yet eight o'clock, and it was already dark. Herstal was in the passenger seat of Albariño's red Chevrolet, which was speeding down a road outside the city—a road Herstal did not travel, and Albariño did. Look at the navigation; the headlights illuminate the limited road ahead, and when you look up, you can see the black woods on either side of the road.

Scenes like this are common in the outskirts of Westerland, where the city sits behind them like luminous behemoths, and the outskirts of the wilderness are the domain of wandering foxes and láng.

Finally, the headlights illuminated a sign erected on the side of the road. The sign was erected at a fork in the road. The content of the sign was nothing more than a reminder that if you keep walking along one of the roads, you will enter private territory. Albarino paused for a second or two, then turned the steering wheel firmly in that direction.

"That's our destination," Albarino said quietly, apparently not minding sounding like a tour guide. "The locals call it 'Sequoia Manor' because of the trees that grow near it. Mostly western redwoods. This estate used to belong to Philip Thompson.”

Herstal recalled the name, and realized that it did sound familiar: "Thompson? The dead newspaper magnate?"

Albarino snorted approvingly: "It can also be said that he is a business-minded businessman who made his first pot of gold from investing in stocks. The "Westland Daily" that we are all familiar with. The News is his newspaper. But of course, you know: this gentleman passed away almost twenty years ago and had no heirs, so he devoted most of his estate to philanthropy and various foundations ...but also use a portion of the estate to continue operating the club at Sequoia Manor."

"...club?" Herstal frowned, apparently never hearing the story.

Albarino nodded:

"Many years ago, he liked to party with some of his rich old friends at Sequoia Manor. Over time, it became a club within them. They said to the outside world that it was a group of old men getting together to play 24 o'clock and have a dance party. The place - although most people think that they are actually here with high-ranking women in private meetings or something, which is not uncommon among rich people.

"In any case, he later used the manor for this purpose alone, and many people with the same identity and similar interests joined the club, and Thompson also hired a group of people to take care of this huge manor. In addition to himself, it seems that many other club members have donated to keep the club running; after his death, the club has continued to operate with the support of these continuous funds."

Herstal remained silent, while Albarino laughed to himself, saying, "Sounds odd, doesn't it?"

Herstal seemed to be mulling over his words, maybe he had some bad thoughts in his mind, and finally he asked in a low voice, "What does this have to do with that case?"

"It's a big deal," Albarino snorted lightly, "I found a person before, and that person was hired to throw corpses into the river for a customer he had never met. Among the six people who died before He was responsible for throwing three bodies - his mouth was tight, but there was a limit - in any case, two of those three bodies were given to him near Sequoia Manor, and he suspected that the dead were just there. From this manor."

The end of this horrific guess was swept away silently by the cold wind. The night was still clear. Under the moonlight, they could already glimpse the manor in the woods from the cracks in the trees: it was a manor house. In the huge building, there are many windows with flickering lights, and there are obviously many people moving inside.

This time Herstal was silent for a long time, then said softly: "Albarino."

"Huh?" Albarino replied, apparently in a relaxed mood.

"That manor was a club of rich people," Herstal said heavily on the word "rich man," "and now you suspect that the manor was involved in a series of corpse dumping cases. Whether your guess is correct or not , there's only one question: how are you going to get in?"

Albarino glanced at Herstal: "Aren't you rich enough?"

"I obviously don't have as much money as you think, and I can't even compare to Philip Thompson." Herstal replied sullenly.

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