The second more

Knowing that this game was set up by Garrian, the people around him gasped.

Gautier was so frightened by the game that he even felt like he had been given a new lease of life. However, Garian's next move has a horror of falling into hell again.

Garion loaded the bullet into the bullet nest, his eyes kept staring at the man in front of him, and he said calmly, "Do you want to continue playing with me?" Your Excellency Gautier, I wrote the banned book "1984", and I was also regarded by the government as a comrade and sympathizer of the revolutionary party, wrote praises for revolutionaries in prison, and even participated in the workers' movement. I don't cherish fame and fortune like you, I have already put life and death aside, I don't know if you have the determination to make a real bet. ”

How could Gautier, who had just escaped death, come to another game of death, and he flatly refused Garion's invitation.

Gautier covered his face with his hands and shouted, "No, madman, I refuse, I won't play this game with you anymore, and don't pull me if you want to die." ”

Garian asked, "Are you scared?" ”

The pale-faced Gautier staggered to his feet, nearly hitting the edge of the table. He said hoarsely, "Get out of here, I'm getting out of here!" You're a complete lunatic, whatever you say, I'm not going to go any further, let me go, I'm getting out of here! ”

With that, Gautier kicked open his chair and ran out of the door in a panic, but Baudelaire called out to the other party, but there was no response. Just frantically ran out and grabbed the door.

Gautier can't stand it anymore, where is this literati, it's just crazy!

"Wait a minute, Gautier."

Baudelaire glanced at Garion helplessly, and then chased after him, as a good friend of Gautier, he didn't want his friend to do something stupid after he collapsed.

Garion didn't make a stop move, just silently watched the other party's escape. Then he turned his head to Borst and Zola beside him and said, "It seems that His Excellency Gautier has lost, and it is difficult for people to have the courage to play another game of Russian turntable after experiencing life and death." ”

"Bang bang."

Bolst clapped alone, his voice echoing through the empty room. He smiled and said, "Yes, this is the most wonderful duel I have ever seen, and it may be recorded in the history of literature and art by future generations, but I don't hope that anyone will follow this life-and-death duel in the future." And I know how tomorrow's report should be written. Alas, poor Lord Gautier, I'm afraid that he will fall into a psychological shadow for the rest of his life, right? After all, it's the first time I've seen such a gaffe. ”

Garion doesn't have sentimental sighs, at least he wants to make the conservatives understand that he's not a docile little sheep, but a poisonous snake that can bite at any moment.

Hopefully, they will be able to restrain themselves in the future.

"Thank you, Lord Bolst, for coming today as a notary, and if we are free tonight after handing in the manuscript, how about we have a drink?" As a reward for today. ”

In the face of Garion's kind invitation, Borst naturally would not refuse. He stuffed the notebook into his pocket, rubbed his hands together, and said, "Of course there is no problem, if you drink, of course, it is Montmartre Bar Street in the north of the city, how about we meet at the Wanderer Tavern?" ”

Garion's eyes lit up, and he nodded and said, "No problem, then we'll see you at eight o'clock in the evening." ”

After sending Bolst away, Garion put the pistol in a wooden box, and tomorrow's newspaper will probably see Gautier's ugly report.

"First the Jogotier duel, and then the Bolst reporter for a drink, what the hell are you thinking?"

Garion rested his index finger on his lips and whispered, "The secret, you'll know when the time comes." ”

He patted Zola on the shoulder, smiled mysteriously and said, "Let's go, let's go have a drink?" ”

Zola hesitated, "But I still have to rush tonight...... The day after tomorrow, the manuscript will be handed over to the editor-in-chief. ”

Garion craned his arm and said encroachmently, "It's okay, the reader won't say anything after a chapter or two, trust me." An author's inspiration springs up like a fountain only before the deadline. ”

……

As night falls, Paris becomes more lively than during the day.

The Rue de la Bar Montmartre, a thriving area after the Champs-Élysées, is home to wandering artists from all over the world who paint and sell their art, making the area one of the most chic and colorful districts in Paris. The art scene is alive and well, and the small cafés and bars that flank the winding cobblestone slopes of the Montmartre neighborhood thrive. It has gradually become a lively center of activity.

Gypsy dancers in small cafes and taverns, dressed in long dresses with intricate lace and frenzied music, twisted their hips and raised their thighs high to the zenith of the chandelier. Accompanied by men's revelry and whistles, the entire bar street is transformed into a lively "poba".

Later, someone built a tavern on this bar street, which became known as the Moulin Rouge and became a beautiful sight in Paris.

On both sides of the road are fragrant and seductive dancers, scratching their heads and posing with perfect curves that attract the attention of the guests.

Coming all the way from St. Anthony's Street, Garion and Zola, like the other "well-dressed" gentlemen around, were here in search of an outlet for their souls and desires.

After passing through the bewitching dancing girl and the drunk man who walked unsteadily with a wine bottle, he got into the bustling tavern. Found Borst sitting in the corner in the lively hall.

There was a bottle of gin in front of him, and he had already drunk a small glass.

"Sir Borst, you seem to be in a good mood."

"Of course."

Bolst took a cigarette in his mouth and filled the two remaining empty cups in front of him.

He yelled at Garion, letting his voice drown out the loud music as much as possible.

"You see, this is a man's paradise. My Virgin Mary, look at these snow-white Venus, look at the muses that swell on their breasts...... Wandering artists can always find a physical outlet here. Although I don't think it helps them much in finding inspiration. ”

"What are you telling the truth?"

Garion smiled.

Bolst, who was sitting opposite, looked at the two of them and said with a smile, "Mr. Garrian invited me to have a drink today, I'm afraid there are other things, right?" ”

With a knowing smile, Garian placed a small bag in front of Borst;

The other party opened the bag in confusion, glanced inside, and was stunned.

He was surprised to find that it was full of francs, holding the heavy bag in his hand, and Borst asked hesitantly, "Your Excellency Garion, what does this mean?" ”

"Here are three hundred francs, and I'll pay you a sum afterwards."

"Say it."

Borst placed the bag on the table, knowing that it would not be easy to get the bag of francs, and wanted the other party to explain his intentions directly.

"Is there anything you want to ask me for? Three hundred francs as a deposit, I am afraid that the request of Lord Garion is not an ordinary embarrassment. ”

"No, you're wrong, I'm not going to embarrass you to make some reports that ruin your innocence."

Garion held the glass in front of him, shook the gin inside, and whispered, "I want you to write an article for me, and I want you to use your connections in the journalist world to convey this article to everyone." ”