Wine and Gun

The Church of Our Lady of the Rosary in Clintfield is quiet, which stands out among the various gleaming churches decorated with Christmas trees during this period.

This old building was built in the early 18th century and is a typical Baroque church. The scale of this church was quite amazing in the colonial period, and the interior sculpture craftsmanship was also very exquisite, and it could almost be called a very beautiful work of art - in fact, for the next few hundred years, it has always been a Weiss. Tran was the center of Catholicism in the region, until the local church abandoned repairs to the increasingly damaged building for a variety of reasons during the economic crisis.

In recent years, the renovation plan for the Church of Our Lady of the Rosary has once again been put on the table, and it is said that full construction will start after the Christmas holiday. In fact, a construction detour sign has been set up on the periphery of the building, and scaffolding has been erected on one of the nearly collapsed bell towers.

At this moment, Albarino Bacchus was standing in the nave of this deserted church. The chandelier of the church that had not been lit for nearly a hundred years was lit again, and the clear white light was lit up again. It seemed to burn above his head.

Of course, this is also thanks to the church construction team who have already started preparatory work. For the convenience of future repair work, they have re-wired the church and re-adjusted the lighting. Otherwise, these have not been lit for nearly a century. A single light would be a big problem for Albarino, who didn't want to go out in the snow on Christmas Eve pulling wires.

And now Albarino is looking down at the direction of the ground. He is standing in front of the magnificent altar of the church. As a church of the Virgin, in front of the altar is a huge altar sculpture. It is carved in white marble with the Virgin Mary embracing the dead Jesus, her head Hanging mournfully, her soft face is surrounded by a halo of metal strips.

And under this white statue of the Virgin, there are piles of... human bodies.

Pale but alive body, heaving chest and frightened eyes. The man closest to Albarino looked up at him, his voice hoarse from thirst or some kind of substantial torture.

Those were hateful eyes, Albarino thought. In most cases, the emotion weakens the beauty of the body itself, and can be called overwhelming in terms of creation; their bodies were once equal, but the soul within the body alienated them.

And in this case, they often have a lot more to say.

The man said intermittently, "...you're going to...go to hell."

What a common curse, people don't even know if heaven and hell really exist, religion is a collective fantasy of wishful thinking, if God really created humans, why did Eve give birth to Cain, why let these murderous murders happen?

Albarino smiled lightly.

"It's better to believe that I am God Himself than to believe that there is a place for the soul after death," he replied so arrogantly, "Agent McCard."

"Merry Christmas!" cried Midalen happily.

He knocked on the door of the ward symbolically, then pushed it open immediately, and walked in first, shaking the snowflakes from his hair as he walked; his hair glowed in the light of the room with a heavy A dark golden luster, like those angels that would appear on the Nativity fresco.

Olga and Hunter took a step behind him and walked into the room that smelled of pungent disinfectant. Olga walked into the ward just in time to see Clara Hardy huddled up at the end of her illness, holding a big baby in her arms, and she and the baby in her arms were about to squeeze her tragically shot dad out of the room. .

And Hua Lisi was sitting on the stool next to the room with some kind of low-grade fruit wine in the paper cup in her hand. Since the entire ward was a minor except for the injured number, she was obviously the only one who could drink.

She smiled at Olga, who came in with bouquets, gifts and family members: "Merry Christmas."

Bart Hardy himself was sitting on the bed, looking over with a smile - Olga could see that the smile was not real, and more sorrow was hidden under his smiling face - he was wearing a hospital gown, slightly Beneath the open neckline was neatly bandaged, with a hanging needle stuck on the back of his hand.

The bullet hit him in the stomach, and if the ambulance in front had not noticed something was wrong and quickly called the police, the stunned nurse in Herstal's ambulance woke up and took some First aid, they should be preparing for Hardy's funeral now.

The worst of the odds didn't happen, instead, Hardy now has to fast for an entire week and survive on drips; he's also hospitalized and may not be able to go home for the entire Christmas period.

——Under this premise, Olga and the others decided to visit him in the hospital on Christmas Eve.

(Annie went back to her parents' home on the West Coast for Christmas, and left reluctantly, a sentiment that few can express to Westland.)

Olga, Hunter, and Midaren entered the door. Because the bouquet in Olga's arms was too large, she could only staggered against the door of the ward with her heel. The bouquet in her arms consisted mainly of holly, poinsettia, and mistletoe with red fruit, and it was quite Christmassy to be fair, but a little too red and green at the same time.

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