The dim light illuminates the only cabin on the cargo ship. Pen "Fun" Pavilion www.biquge.info

In this small space where you can reach out and fit the two walls of the cabin, the two people in the cabin don't sleep so comfortably.

"Styry, I've got it figured out." Olivier lay on a one-meter-wide camp bed and said to Duchamp, who was laying his head under the coffee table.

"Think about what? Decided to catch a train? Duchamp asked lazily.

Given the narrow terrain of the cabin, he designed it for a long time before he was able to lie down smoothly. Although Olivier also volunteered to build a floor, Duchamp finally rejected his offer. Right now, his head is under the coffee table, and his feet are in the inside of the suitcase, very comfortable. This situation reminded him of the Spring Festival with great nostalgia, and remembered the passionate years when he put a newspaper under someone else's sleeper and then fell asleep on his stomach. In this happy remembrance of the past, when he was about to recall the sumptuous pig-killing meal after returning home, the little prince interrupted his long-lost gluttonous feast uninterestingly.

"I thought about it, I should accompany you to investigate the murder." Olivier said earnestly, his eyes full of anticipation, expecting Duchamp to say something encouraging.

"Humph!" Duchamp rolled over, intending to carefully study how to pack up and send the troublemaker back as soon as he got off the ship.

Olivier poked his head out of the marching bed and said seriously, "Styry, are we good friends?" ”

There was silence.

Olivier had no choice but to continue on his own.

"I grew up outside the palace, and the Desaith family took care of my daily life, and if I wanted to say what I lacked, it seemed that I didn't lack anything, I had everything I needed to be a prince. However, I knew very few friends, and Learmour was one, and Viscount Desaith had specially arranged for me to accompany me to class. Mura, too, was assigned by the family to be in charge of my security. In addition, there are very few people I really know, and the classmates I know in school, they don't know everything about me, and I always feel that there is a layer of separation between me and them. My family has always been very tolerant of my unreasonable demands. I lack nothing but friends. ”

It was so uncomfortable to sleep on the floor of the ship, especially on his side, and Duchamp turned over again and switched back to his flat position.

Olivier thought that Duchamp was sending a signal of reconciliation, and was encouraged, and continued to speak.

"People know that I am a freak, my identity is intimidating, and those who know my identity know that there is no benefit in being close to me, and many of my classmates are constrained by their parents not to get too close to me. Even Learmour and Mura, if it weren't for the duty their father gave them, I don't think they would have had the opportunity to be friends with me. ”

Duchamp opened his mouth irritably to refute, thinking that he had never experienced these things, and seemed to have no right to speak, and continued to pretend to be asleep, and let out a false snoring sound.

"But Stellary, you're different, you're the one who hasn't changed his attitude towards me after knowing who I am. Not only you, but everyone at Sword and Rose made me feel different. There is a huge disparity in identity, but there is no such identity barrier at all, just like, well, real friends. I'm here and I'm very happy. Styry, in particular, is very generous and talented with everyone, and I have heard from Learmour about many of your feats, and they are full of that kind of, well, legendary heroism. In my heart, people like you are the backbone of society and the hope of the empire. ”

The last few words made Duchamp embarrassed, but it seemed to be a good word, and there were not many opportunities to hear people praise him. Duchamp lay down comfortably and continued to listen.

"I always thought that I knew at least a little bit about you, but after listening to you say what you are going to do today, I feel that I still don't know enough about you. During the day, I seriously thought about why I couldn't make friends in the past, and why the people who knew my so-called identity ended up breaking up with me. After today's events, I suddenly understood, if you want to be a real friend, how can you know nothing about your friends? ”

Duchamp complained in his heart: "Brother is not you, brother has a lot of friends and brothers." ”

"So!" Olivier rolled over from the marching bed, a determined gaze flashing in his eyes: "Even if you are going to kill someone, I have to follow to witness why you are going to kill." Only then can we become true friends. ”

Duchamp snorted from his nostrils.

Olivier leaned over and asked, "Do you think I'm right?" ”

Duchamp plucked out his ears and said unhappily: "What kind of real friend is this!" If Goode had heard that I was going to kill someone, he would have helped me with a knife; Aggie heard that I was going to kill someone, and he would definitely help me keep watch; If it's the big guy on the road, he'll say, 'I'm going to kill a few, I'll get a knife,' or even Lilmuel would say, 'Then you'll have to buy a ticket to escape.'" You see, that's what we call friends. Standing aside and watching, it's called a soy sauce party, what kind of friend. ”

Olivier was ashamed and said, "I have a gun, and when you are in danger, I can cover you with a gun." ”

Duchamp got out from under the coffee table, stood up and said, "Look at it! ”

Olivier asked, "What are you looking at?" As soon as he finished speaking, he saw Duchamp's figure disappear into the air, so strange in the dim light.

"This, this can't be!" Olivier said in shock, suddenly reacting, reaching forward and groping around.

"Hey, hey, where are you going?" The cabin was so big that Duchamp couldn't hide even if he wanted to, so he shouted in a panic.

"You're amazing!" Olivier was dumbfounded, and Duchamp clearly said that he could only be a burden if he followed. He was stunned for a second, and then suddenly overjoyed: "Styry, can you teach me this hand!" ”

"Even if I want to teach, you have to have that talent." Duchamp casually refused.

The words touched Olivier's sore spot, and he immediately fell silent.

Duchamp noticed Olivier's depression and quickly made up for the mistake in his words: "You have to read that book quickly, and when you really inherit the power contained in that book, such a spell is just a small trick." ”

"Really?" Olivier's eyes lit up, and then, as he remembered something, he said in a dejected manner: "I left the book in the castle." ”

"What, what a loser, such a thing can be thrown away if you want to!" Duchamp scolded angrily.

Since ancient times, it has not been taught!

"Maybe Mura will put it away for me." Olivier said ashamedly.

The two were silent for a moment.

"Styry, can you tell me about the murder you're investigating?" Olivier whispered.

It's really kraft candy, full of toughness! Duchamp thought worriedly. Before dawn, he still wanted to sleep well!

"Well, since you want to hear it, I'll tell you!"

Duchamp started with the first glance of the town he saw after he crossed over.

The whole thing was only a few minutes.

Olivier first sighed gloomily at what happened to the townspeople, then his eyes widened, and he said excitedly: "So, you and that road are going to investigate this matter, right?" Of course, I will support this kind of justice unconditionally, and I can help you with my incomparable ingenuity. ”

"Help me!" Duchamp scoffed. "What we use is the method of the little people, and if you really want to understand the survival of the little people, you must first forget your identity, forget your privileges, and the righteousness of that shit. Can you do it? ”

"Of course! I've always been like that! Olivier didn't look through his brain at all, and as usual, casually made a promise that was incredibly certain and worthless.

After a long time, Olivier, whose curiosity had been satisfied, finally fell asleep contentedly, but Duchamp's spirit fell into a period of exhaustion. The plan he had conceived was simple and crudely effective, but with the addition of Olivier's unbreakable kraft candy, he didn't know where his plan would go.

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