Sitting in Brother Monkey's car, there was a lot of water on the road due to the wind and rain, so I felt that the road became very long.

I got out of the car and went home, took off my bulky rain boots, sorted everything up, and lay down in bed. In fact, I don't really like rainy nights, and I think of a lot of unpleasant things.

The more you pretend to be insane, the more it will catch you off guard when it comes out of nowhere. Some of them are like tiny wooden thorns stuck in the palm of your hand, so small that you can't take them out, but they sting you from time to time. Too much exaggeration is meaningless, no one really empathizes, and the meaning of the narrative is either to boast about oneself or to gain sympathy, which happens to be neither I like.

So to put it simply, on that rainy night, I lost everything I had, my loved ones, my lovers, my friends, and even my name. Then I met the old poor ghost, and then I became the person I am now. Some of the clips in the past pop up at some point in a while, and it used to feel very strong, but now it's much better.

I don't know if it's numb or forgotten, I don't feel too happy or sad. Sometimes you don't feel fulfilled or tired with a lot of things, and sometimes you don't feel bored or lonely with very few things.

I adapt to all life situations and see everything. And life doesn't seem to have anything to do with me anymore, how interesting. And the way of existence is more like a wandering. There was no reluctance, even if the bullet hit my body in the next second, I didn't seem to feel anything other than pain.

As a result, death seemed meaningless, and my connection to the world seemed to be based on a single transaction, which made me feel bitter.

This world is very realistic, and many parties cater to it in order to survive. At this moment, I am lying in bed, and the wind and rain outside may not have anything to do with me at this moment. I suspect that there are probably very few killers like me, and that insomnia is due to these useless thoughts.

Outside the window, the sky was getting brighter, and the first night of belonging to the killer had passed. Fortunately, the weather was gloomy, and I was dazed and sleepy. When I opened my eyes, it was already ten o'clock in the morning. I've always liked to go to bed early, maybe I'm not as disciplined as my peers. It's already tense and boring to pay attention to it all the time.

I opened the door, and five wrapped up a small stack. I've often wondered if my neighbors have never been curious about such packages. I moved them in and put them neatly on my dinner table and went to wash my face. It's not a fasting bath, but it's as formal as possible.

I opened the five boxes one by one, and opened four empty boxes in a row, and I began to be a little interested. I casually opened the fifth box, and when I tore open the tape, there was a small box inside. It seems to be very carefully wrapped, and it is a flannel box. I took it out and opened it, and inside was a metal nameplate.

I picked up the nameplate and looked at the words on it, and suddenly my hands trembled. The iron block, I know, is made by an underground boxing stadium, and only those who have been boxing there for a long time are distributed. Could it be that the piece of iron is still alive?

My right eye suddenly jumped for no apparent reason. And what is the reason why this nameplate sends me such a message? That person is still alive, so why did I search for all these years to no avail, and why didn't he come to me? The typhoon is still going on outside, and I can't sit still at the moment, I have to find him.