Lorenzo didn't think he had anything to do with the gentle word "home", but whenever he saw the old Dunling again after he was born and died, Lorenzo would feel a sense of "home" like returning to home.

The machinery never stops, the fire in the furnace burns, the rain rushes through the canal, and finally returns to the Thames.

Even the damn rainy season can't stop this society from turning, with umbrellas converging into rivers running through the streets of the city, iron snakes swimming like fish, moving through them with the sound of steam whistles, or opening car doors in the midst of steam, and countless mermaids leaping out.

Under the snake system in the atrium, the traffic of the whole city is still running in an orderly manner, but in the midst of this, the carriage, which symbolizes status and wealth, is ridiculous, and it has become backward compared to the advanced machinery...... In fact, a few years ago, horse-drawn carriages could be seen everywhere on the streets, but now with the development of machinery, they are becoming less and less.

Sometimes people even feel that the city is alive, it is growing, it is changing, like a big tree, it has its own ecosystem, an ecosystem of steel and machinery.

Lorenzo stood in a corner of the street, drenched and stained with dirty blood.

Because of the rainy season, the war airships have dived, and the main force of the city's security supervision has become the mounted police, who brave the heavy rain and march on the streets.

With the current complex situation, Lorenzo didn't want to alarm anyone, and since he had just escaped death, Lorenzo now only wanted to return to Cork Street 2A unharmed and sleep in his familiar bed.

His clothes were in tatters, and he didn't have an umbrella, so he might have been mistaken as a stranger who had sneaked in from the lower city.

Lorenzo thought so, and then approached the street, thinking about whether to rob a passer-by of the umbrella and clothes, and was just about to do it, when he saw a familiar face.

......

After the man walks slowly down the street with an umbrella and comes out of the grief of divorce, he slowly discovers the joy of life, he can sleep in the living room, sleep in the kitchen, fool around outside all day, or get drunk in the toilet.

He was so free, and for a moment he felt that the first half of his life was simply living in bondage, thinking ahead and backward in everything he did, and taking into account the ideas of others.

Now he felt great, with the wine in his bag, and even the wet moisture had become mild.

Life was really good, and knowing that he saw a homeless guy appear in front of his eyes, he couldn't see him clearly, but as he got closer, his face gradually became frightened.

Glancing back and forth, he tried to find a place to dodge, but he was too slow, and was about to move, when one hand grabbed the handle of his umbrella, and the two of them sat under the same umbrella like a pair of close friends.

"Long time no see!

Looking at the bad expression, smelling the smell of blood that was close at hand, Buscallo's expression was as uncomfortable as eating a fly, but the difficult place in life is here, obviously this guy in front of him is extremely annoying, but Buskalo has to show an old friend's expression.

"Good...... Long time no see, Mr. Holmes. ”

......

47 Hammering Street.

Lorenzo took off his damp clothes and wore the clothes that Buscalo handed him, probably because of the size gap, Lorenzo felt like he was wearing a dressing gown in his clothes.

Buscarlo's home was very large, and he and his wife had a daughter living here, but after the divorce, his wife left with their daughter, and Buscarlo was the only one left in the empty room.

Lorenzo still remembers the last time he "invaded", the scene here, the house was very tidy, everything was in order, full of the breath of life, but now the wine bottles were rolling on the ground, clothes and miscellaneous items were piled up on the ground, and some corners still exuded a hellish sour smell, as if there were some wild people living in the mountains.

Buscarlo sat on the messy sofa, took out the wine he had bought from his bag, and did not pay attention to any sense of ceremony, but bit the cork and blew on the bottle, which made Lorenzo impressed.

One of the reasons Lorenzo doesn't like to make friends is because he has a secret blood on him, and this forbidden secret blood attracts evil things.

This is also explained in Shermans's notes, which she calls the situation "phototaxis".

In the endless darkness, Lorenzo, with his secret blood, was like a point of light, attracting the moths in the darkness, and they swarmed towards the fireworks.

Because of this "phototaxis", all the evil will approach Lorenzo, and Lorenzo will inevitably get close to them, and this will more or less affect the people around him, Lorenzo does not want innocent people to suffer from this, so unless necessary, he will always be alone.

But something unexpected happened.

Sometimes Lorenzo can't help but wonder if there really is such a thing as "fate" in this world, and if Lorenzo's original intersection with Busculo led to seeing him again on the train of death, and this influence has continued to this day.

But who can say this kind of thing clearly?

"Would you like a drink?"

Buscarlo suddenly shouted, looking at Lorenzo leaning against the windowsill and holding up his bottle.

"Drink so much during the day?"

"One is that I want to drink, and the other is to strengthen my courage. ”

Buscarlo said and glanced at Lorenzo, and then at the weapon next to the wall, which glowed with a dangerous arc of light, and put aside Lorenzo's nervousness, in Buscarlo's eyes, Lorenzo was positioned as an urban murderer.

Now that an unarmed doctor and a murderer are alone in the room, Lorenzo kind of understands that he drinks to embolden him.

Lorenzo was just looking for a place to rest, having just experienced such a fierce battle and that explosive knowledge.

Even now, the strange uneasiness was so real, as if there was a hundred-eyed monster staring at him in a place where Lorenzo couldn't see, and countless eyeballs were turning with Lorenzo's movements, grinding their teeth and sucking blood, ready for a chance to kill with one blow.

It's so tiring, so tiring.

Lorenzo thought that killing Lawrence would complete the revenge of Arrival, but as he uncovered the past, he realized that it was far from being as simple as he thought.

No matter how much firewood he added to the fire, it was difficult to illuminate the unfathomable darkness.

"Aren't they coming back?"

Lorenzo tried to relax, then said to Buscarlo.

"Who?"

Buscarlo was a little drunk, apparently not understanding what Lorenzo meant.

"Your wife, and your daughter. Lorenzo said.

"The last time I came, you were at least cleaning up the room, after all, they would be angry if they came back to see the mess, but you ...... now"

Lorenzo didn't continue, they wouldn't be coming back, so Buscalo didn't care about these things anymore, the house was a mess, saying that it was free, but in fact it was indulgent.

"Mr. Holmes, this is marriage. ”

Buscalo didn't feel the slightest bit sad, just stared at Lorenzo with wide eyes.

"Well, I was actually quite sad at first, even though I was tired of seeing my wife, but I still loved my daughter very much...... But then I got used to it, and I got back to the feeling I had when I was younger, and I couldn't be happier. ”

Lorenzo seemed to be overwhelmed, and as Buscaro spoke, he sang and danced with his bottle.

No matter before or now, Buscalo is quite afraid of Lorenzo, after all, they have been terrible since they met, but just like Lorenzo is used to demons, Buscalo is also used to Lorenzo, anyway, he is powerless to resist, it is better to enjoy himself as soon as possible.

"Wait, are you unemployed?"

Lorenzo saw bills on the ground, pile after pile.

"Oh...... There's no way around it, and overindulgence can be a bit of a disadvantage, such as forgetting to go to work. ”

Buscalo was silent as he spoke, and he didn't know if he didn't want to face Lorenzo or for some reason, so he got himself drunk and fell asleep on the floor.

This feeling is like "Lao Tzu is asleep, do whatever you like, as long as I wake up and you are not there".

Lorenzo had a complicated expression, and everyone seemed to be a little nervous, but they rarely showed it.

Carrying Buscarlo back to his bedroom, Lorenzo sat alone on the sofa in the living room, facing the mess of the room, of course, he had no idea of helping Buscarlo tidy up the room, but put Shermans's notes on the table, his eyes solemn.

Although there was no direct evidence of the "curse of knowledge", Lorenzo could clearly feel the unease, and if it weren't for these scruples, Lorenzo might have rushed to the Perpetual Pump right now and told Merlin about it.

But he couldn't, maybe he had something special about himself that could avoid the "curse of knowledge", but he didn't dare if Merlin would really be cursed.

Shermans died for this knowledge, and there may be many more in history who died because of it.

Lorenzo also vaguely understood why there was a clear sense of disconnection in the knowledge of the gospel church, and some time in the past, some people knew about it, but because of the curse they all died, maybe someone like Lorenzo could avoid or delay the curse, but it would also become his exclusive knowledge.

This knowledge cannot be shared with others, or the strange curse will spread.

It is like an invisible wall, and human beings are trapped in it, forever ignorant of it.

......

It was a bad feeling to be drunk, my brain was dizzy, my whole body hurt, it felt like I had been beaten up, and I struggled to get up from the bed, and Buskalo sat on the edge of the bed and looked out the window.

It was already dark, the streets were lit up, and the rumbling iron serpents tirelessly shuttled through the city, people coming and going.

It's a bad feeling, not only because I'm drunk, but because I'm alone when I wake up.

The dimly lit room was filled with the smell of wine and sourness, and he seemed to live in a beast's lair, and the bottles were rolling on the floor, reflecting the somewhat embarrassed face of Buscarlo.

Freedom is a real joy, but the excessive pleasure is followed by a lonely emptiness, and although Buscarlo himself does not want to see his wife, he does miss his daughter, whose mother took her back to his native town, where the splendor of technology is not shrouded in the splendor of technology, and communication depends only on letters.

He couldn't hear her voice, he couldn't see her face, so he wanted to pick up the bottle and drink it again, but then he realized that there was no more wine.

Maybe this is the life of a middle-aged divorced old man, Buscaro was in a daze, until there was a slight sound in the living room.

Thieves?

Buscallo didn't care about any of that now, there was nothing of value at home anyway, but then his gaze became frightened, and as he sobered up, he gradually remembered what had happened before he was drunk.

Slowly pushing open the door, I saw that damn face, looking at myself kindly.

"Are you awake? Thank you for taking you in. ”

Lorenzo got dressed, neat and tidy, and dressed himself so ordinarily that no one could tell that this seemingly ordinary guy was a murderer on the street.

Buscarlo recognized that it was his clothes, and Lorenzo looked bloated in his baggy clothes because of the wrong size.

"You're leaving?"

Buscarlo calmed down and asked.

Lorenzo nodded, he didn't hide anything, hiding those deadly weapons under his coat in front of Buscallo.

"You...... It's really dedicated, and I have to go out to work in the middle of the night. ”

"In the middle of the night?"

Lorenzo was stunned for a moment, then pointed to the clock.

"It's the next day, and it's almost dawn. ”

"This ......" Buscalo covered his head, he didn't expect that he had slept for so long, and he was a little flustered at first, but then he remembered that he had resigned, what was the panic.

The whole person collapsed on the sofa again, looking ready to sleep.

"Mr. Lorenzo Holmes. ”

He suddenly stopped Lorenzo, who was about to leave, and Lorenzo turned around to see Buscarlo get up from the couch and say to himself with a serious face.

"Don't get married. ”

"Huh?"

Lorenzo didn't know if Buscu Carlo hadn't woken up, or if he had drunk too much and was going crazy, and he didn't want to explain anything, so he lay down with the only photo at home, and after a while the snoring started again.

It's just a short rest here, if Lorenzo stays for a long time, maybe he will cause some trouble, and there is nothing wrong with seeing Buscarlo, so Lorenzo left directly.

The life of a witcher is always like this, constantly on the move, facing one trouble after another.

Lorenzo did not have a rest, after the night of Advent he came to the old Dunling, became a detective with a somewhat peculiar style, and lived a relatively peaceful life, but the long peace made him sometimes forget what he was originally for, and when all this sin found himself again, it all seemed so strange.

The sky was still gloomy, and cold raindrops fell from time to time in the air, pausing briefly in the streets, and then Lorenzo thought about his next destination.