Understated but deadly, Hordon was still careless, but without warning, he choked Oliver's lifeblood in a few words.

Oliver's thin and pale cheeks instantly lost their lustre, his eyes shook violently, he lowered his head in embarrassment, hiding his panic and embarrassment, and subconsciously wanted to escape, but after all, he still couldn't hold back his anger, so he roared hoarsely:

"What do you know?"

Originally, the conversation between Hodden and Oliver did not deliberately raise their voices, and the buzz echoed in the bar, but it was not enough to steal the demeanor of the drinker, and at this moment, the thunder suddenly started, and the voice of the drinker stopped abruptly, and even Guzmin cast his gaze, and his eyes probed with consternation.

"I know it takes patience to deal with children, but I also know that if someone deliberately refuses a good idea, then I don't need to waste time and energy. Holden is still lazy, and he doesn't seem to even bother to raise his eyebrows, and his casual appearance really makes people angry.

Oliver didn't know how to respond, lost in his thoughts, clenched his fists, his face growing pale, and he bit his lip desperately.

Hodden didn't say anything more, and the air was quiet again.

"Hiccup!"

The drinker burped, breaking the silence, and then he muttered to himself, the air surging slightly, but it accentuated Oliver's embarrassment.

Oliver looked up suddenly, and then he could see Hoden looking at him with the rest of his eyes, and he sat in his chair with a lazy and casual look with a touch of amusement, and he couldn't help but stiffen his neck again and said angrily, "What's wrong?"

Horden pondered for a moment, sighed lightly, and seemed to be ready to give up, but he still couldn't do it after all, and his eyes that didn't wake up opened slightly.

"Do you think that all this is just a waste of time, no one cares anyway, even if you say it, no one believes it, and even thinks that you are just a thirteen-year-old gangster, without any reference value. ”

Oliver clenched his fists again, his knuckles turning white from too much force. He didn't speak, just stubbornly twisted his head.

Hodden got the answer he wanted, "So, now that I finally want to hear your story, you're going to let us get out of the way?" ”

Oliver glanced at Howlen out of his eyes, "Why should I trust you?"

Hodden smiled slightly, "Do you think I'm like someone who has too much time to play tricks on you?"

Straightforward and sharp, yet real enough.

Oliver's face flickered, he gritted his teeth fiercely, still refusing to make eye contact, just twisting his head and saying, "Red and yellow balloons, a steam light rail, and an Austin name." ”

Finally, Oliver looked up, with a glimmer of hope in his arms but afraid of being disappointed again, his eyes mixed, "That's all I remember about the night my mother was killed. ”

After the words were spoken, they seemed so short and extremely empty, Oliver stared at Howlen's expression with anxiety, cramped and anxious as he continued to fiddle with the corners of his clothes, his eyes flashing to reveal the surging emotions in his heart.

The same story, he has told too many times, but he has never received any attention, because there are too few keywords, and because he is too young, and then time passes little by little, and it becomes more and more difficult to collect evidence in the case back then, and finally it becomes a completely unsolved case.

Now, Oliver worries about Holden's reaction.

Hodden only raised his eyebrows slightly, "Oliver, do you remember which area you lived in with your mother back then?"

"Eighth arrondissement. Oliver replied subconsciously.

Holden nodded his head in understanding.

Oliver still couldn't read Holden's expression, "And then?"

Hodden shrugged, "It's time to start enjoying the dried prune pot." ”

Oliver turned his head sharply, and then saw Pete standing in the doorway, holding a steaming snow deer in his hand, but his expression was a little reserved.

Pete could feel the anger erupting from Oliver's body, and he hurriedly said, "Oliver, you should trust Horden, he will solve it." After saying that, he was worried that Oliver would not believe it, so he added, "You are at the scene of the murder that happened here that day, and you should know better than me." ”

Oliver immediately thought back to the events of the day at the "Three Cripples" bar, and his anxious mood calmed down a little, but he still needed an answer, "With only these three keywords, will you continue to investigate?"

"Yes. Hodden didn't continue to talk about it, and said it neatly.

But it was such a simple sentence that made Oliver's nose slightly pantothenic, but he forced himself to be strong, not to reveal vulnerability, and more importantly, not to trust others easily, so he raised his chin, stubbornly turned around and walked back to the bar, pretending that nothing had happened.

Pete wanted to comfort Oliver, but he didn't know how to start, so he finally took Snow Deer to Howlen's side and asked, "You're going to help Oliver, right?"

Pete remembered yesterday's fairy tale of "The Frog and the Mother".

Hodden smiled at Pete, "It's just that I've missed two extracurricular tutoring, and it seems like I'm out of credit now." ”

A teasing sentence made Pete scratch his head in embarrassment, and laughed twice, but he didn't know how to respond.

Hodden didn't continue to explain anything, "Come, let's get ready to enjoy the dried sea plum pot, this is definitely a dish not to be missed by the 'Three Cripples', but unfortunately Guzmin is reluctant to promote it, otherwise I think it can replace Golden Satin Beer and become the signature here." ”

In the second half of the sentence, Horden deliberately raised the end note, as if he was frantically making Guzmin clear.

But Guzmin is still the old monk's settled appearance, wiping the beer glass that can never be wiped off.

Pete was more curious about another thing, "It's not breakfast or lunch, let's just order a dish, okay?"

"It's called brunch. Holden's face was full of naturalness, and Pete opened his mouth in amazement, sincerely admiring Holden's strong words.

At the end of brunch, Pete almost didn't swallow his tongue, and when he left the bar, he was still in a trance, and he couldn't help but suck on the residual aroma on his lips, and walked towards his home diagonally opposite, unable to believe how he had never tasted such deliciousness.

Hodden, on the other hand, walked refreshed and walked in the direction of the Eighth Precinct.

At the mouth of the alley behind him, he could faintly notice a small radish head poking his head out, quietly looking at Holden's whereabouts, but he was worried that he would be discovered by Holden, so he hurriedly turned around, his back firmly attached to the wall, hiding the surging in his heart, and repeatedly warned himself:

Don't give hope to it. Because where there is no hope, there will be no disappointment.

Ten years have passed since the case, and the evidence of that year has long since been annihilated, and the security forces may no longer have any files.

He didn't deserve hope, that was a luxury.