Wine and Gun

Albarino smiled at Herstal: "Dinner."

One possibility: Herstal's barren refrigerator has hurt some part of Albarino's self-esteem deeply, and now Albarino is on vacation, so sometimes he even has time to take it with him during overtime. Dinner turned up in Herstal's office.

"Real" dinner without the cold convenience foods, vending machine sandwiches and crippling green salads. An exaggerated number of glass food containers lined up by Albarino's hand, and Herstal even suspected that there was a soup in the middle.

"I sometimes wonder if you really know what you're doing," Herstal pointed out flatly.

"I think I know: I'm creating a chance to meet you." Albarino replied calmly, the mint green of his iris looked unusually pale under the light, and his pupils circled by the color looked like a Wang Shentan. The forensic doctor and serial killer took a step forward before continuing: "And you know, when you raise animals, you often have to keep their diet in order to keep their meat..."

He paused, and spat out the word lightly.

"Delicious."

"Some people also think it's important to make sure their death is painless, and it's said that fear makes the prey taste sour," Herstal said dryly.

"Indeed, I don't think there is anything wrong with giving prey a painless death, although I guess you may not think so." Albarino smiled, "and, indeed, I am also here for some business: about The issue of compensation for imprisonment obviously still needs to be negotiated, and when the negotiation starts, my lawyer should be present."

Albarino just has a strange ability to subtly convey the word "my lawyer" as a private property or something that is exclusive to him. Herstal responded with a sneer: "If you still want to talk about work, I must point out that my consultations are charged by the hour."

"Lawyers are also charged by the hour for consultation with the forensic doctor. Maybe the two of us can offset the costs." Albarino said this bizarre remark with a gentle smile, and he placed himself in the He sat on the side of the sofa chair near the floor-to-ceiling window, "Would you like to sit down too? The meal is getting cold, I think you still have some time before continuing to work overtime?"

Herstal looked at him slowly, walked up to Albarino and sat down, always keeping a decent distance between them, and never touching his knees after sitting down. Albarino pushed him the dinner in the box, and said, "I understand your expression, and it will always be this expression before you want to complain about my social distance control."

"Normal people will have some doubts about your performance, which is normal." Herstal said as he opened the box, and he was distracted by thinking about where Albarino was carrying a weapon. Makes things more complicated.

"You are no longer in the category of 'normal'," Albarino stared at him, "and neither am I, Herstal."

"If you're looking for a lot like that, why would you choose me?" Herstal asked, the food box in his hand full of cut fruit, oranges and grapes.

"I didn't want to choose you, it's an elusive fate—" Albarino said, the expression no longer innocent by the many teeth he showed when he smiled. But he didn't say any more, because Herstal threw a grape at him.

"Put your clichés away, I'm not interested in your muse," Herstal replied arrogantly.

The grape hit Albarino on the shoulder, and he caught the small fruit so that it wouldn't fall to the ground. Albarino looked down at the grape, as if he could see the answer to everything on it.

Then he said, "You're absolutely right: there was a killer in Salt Lake City who beheaded his victims with an axe, there was a serial killer in Chicago who only killed underage girls with red hair. There were many of them, everywhere, these Cities are rudimentary hunting grounds, full of innocent suffering lambs."

"But even though you have many options, you're still not interested in them," Herstal stated slowly.

"Indeed, because it's out of my control—whatever Olga may have said to you—I swear it's out of my control; sometimes, I don't think I even have the power to make a choice." Albarino deliberately kept his voice low to the point of babbling, and he looked at him from his slightly drooping eyelids, between his pale golden-brown eyelashes in the light, and this manipulative madman used this look to win. favor of others. "For when the pleasures of beauty are pursued, irrational desire triumphs over the judgment that leads to right action... It is the ardent passion called love."

Olga said he could stop whenever he wanted to.

"I sense a dangerous tendency in your words," whispered Herstal.

"Really?" Albarino looked directly at him and smiled. "That's human nature, and you'll soon see it."

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