Wine and Gun

... Midaren asked Olga Hunter if he could adopt him? Hunter felt his mind cluttered into a puddle, was this a strange imprint reaction? The chick takes the first person it meets as its parent?

Hunter could detect something stuck in his throat, and he struggled to say, "I..."

"I understand how you feel. Many people do this when they have already believed that the rest of their lives will be a mess, but they suddenly find that they have the opportunity to start a family. I guess this is a kind of fear." Olga said Said in a very understanding tone.

She paused.

"Of course, we have another solution: we can get married first, then adopt Midalun, then divorce, and in the event of divorce, Midalun's custody belongs to you—"

"...Olga!!"

Olga couldn't help laughing. She looked back at her friend, whose face was flushed with anger, but his eyes were surprisingly bright.

Olga gave Hunter a sincere smile: "Okay. Then I'll know if you want to be Midalen's godfather."

The warden's car was parked outside the sanatorium. When he said goodbye to the big man, the morning mist had not yet dissipated, and the sun had not yet heated the surface of the car, so it was still cool in the car.

He got into the car absentmindedly, started the car, and thought about what to do when he got back to the New Thacker Federal Prison—he still had a lot of papers on the table to deal with, and Herstal Armalite had already transferred It's been a long time since he was in the double cell. Judging from the current situation, he is still very honest, and nothing has happened.

But the warden knew that this kind of life wouldn't last long. When Amalette was in prison, he was known as a "suspected Westland pianist". To touch his bad head, but now, the news that the warden arranged to spread should have spread...

He turned the key and the car didn't start the first time. At this moment, a piece of cold metal pipe touched the back of his head - it was undoubtedly a gun.

The warden shuddered and looked up in horror: he saw a handsome face in the rearview mirror, a young man sitting in the back seat of the car, with dark hair, eye-catching green eyes, and a raised nose. Wearing a pair of light-colored sunglasses.

Despite the disguise of hair color, the warden quickly recognized the face: it was Albarino Bacchus, the ghost of Armalite's men, who was generally believed to be being killed by Armalite. After death, the corpse was thrown into the river by Amalette; some people believed that Amalette ate the body of her lover after killing Doctor Bacchus. Practically speaking, there aren't that many ogres like Dr. Hannibal in real life.

And now, it's clear that Doctor Bacchus is alive and well.

The warden gān swallowed, and when he spoke again, his voice stuttered a little: "You—you are not—?!"

"Drive," interrupted Albarino Bacchus briskly, and the undead grinned, pushing the pistol forward again, "or the police should give you a ticket in a while."

In fact, the current warden doesn't care about the ticket at all, he really hopes a policeman can come and save him. He shivered and started the car, stepping on the accelerator too hard, and the car shook violently as it started, and the damned gun barrel at the back slammed into the back of his head, and every stroke seemed to stab him in the heart.

At the same time, Dr. Bacchus, who should have been dead, said slowly: "The one who was chatting with you in the nursing home just now, is that Bruce Pritzker? Our Mr. Mayor?"

The warden gritted his teeth: Although I don't know why Bacchus is still alive, if someone finds out that he and the mayor are planning something recently, then—

"Well, forget it, I can probably think of what you like-minded fellows are going to do," Albarino said lightly, but despite his amiable tone, he didn't take the gun out of the warden's head at all. The meaning of moving away, "Let's start from the beginning."

The warden's hands were trembling like Parkinson's. At this time, the car was still driving forward. The road was surrounded by lush forests. There were not many vehicles at this time. He couldn't even think of a way to ask for help. arrive. Besides, he really lacked the courage to ask for help.

"Come on," Albarino Bacchus commanded with a smile, "we can start with the matter of Herstal Armalite."

While the warden and Albarino were driving down the road in a car, Hunt pushed Olga's wheelchair home, waiting happily for Midalen to come back from school at night to tell him their latest decision , Herstal Amalet was sitting in the prison cafeteria eating breakfast, or trying to eat breakfast.

There was a greasy plastic plate in front of him, with a stainless steel spoon attached; and next to Herstal's plate was a stack of letters that Koos had given him when he went to the infirmary to get medicine.

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