.

It's just a biased subjective conjecture, maybe in fact people don't think that way at all, and it's not so rude, but Ed does feel that this old guy looks at himself like a monkey, and he is also the kind of purebred big-eyed lemur that disobeys and dyes his fur into ice cream. Tarsiers.

But no matter what old Duroc thinks of Ed, whether he really thinks of him as a monkey or not, Ed looks like a monkey anyway. No offense, just the first impression through the appearance - look at the sideburns and beard, look at the long and bitter face that seems to have endured suffering since the birth of the Titan, and look at the strong and tense muscles in the arms and chest that can be clearly seen in the shirt - the last time the middle-aged gentleman gave Ed this feeling in figure was Albert.

And if Albert is a crocodile lurking in the water, a silent humanoid python, then the old detective in front of Ed now is a police officer wearing a big cover. The orangutan in the hat, the orangutan chief with a boulder in his hand.

Now Ed is a sandwich candy biscuit in his hand, and he can eat it when he wants, throw it away when he wants, crush it when he wants, and it won't be more troublesome than disposing of a bed bug - it's strange.

Under normal circumstances – and under normal circumstances, this is probably how things do. This place is the police station, and old Duroc is a police detective, and he is also the hardest and hardest of all the police detectives with a hard head like a stone, he doesn't come in, he doesn't listen to anything, whoever comes to intercede doesn't work, and the chief has to get out of here when he comes - this old guy has been like this for so many years, and this is the reason why he has always been a police detective and has not been promoted, and this is also the reason why he has always been a police detective and will never be jerked off. He's the kind of person who is extremely annoying in every way, but the irony is that they're as rare as gold, and anyone as rare as gold has a unique role that no one else can mention.

People need old Duroc, they need this hard stone. This is true not only for the police department, but also for the gangsters. This also means that if ordinary people fall into the hands of old Duroc, then he is basically finished, and no one can help him, whether it is the police or the gangsters, no one can do it. The only thing they can do is to give this person one last bit of advice that is still a little bit of accomplishment - be honest and ask for more blessings.

But Eddar wasn't one of those people. Although there had been no in-depth understanding before this—let alone any in-depth understanding, there had not been even the slightest contact between the two—but the strange thing was that Ed could roughly guess what kind of person the old detective who had caught him here and thrown into the cold storage was. As for the reason, he has already said before, he knows a similar guy with a similar personality, and the gaze of this old thing reminded him of that person at the first time, and she also has a pair of eyes that are almost the same.

And this is the fundamental reason why Ed, although he is in a bad situation, has no fear. He knew that the cop who had brought him in didn't do it because he had some shady relationship with the local gangsters - if he did, he needed to be careful, after all, the he had been involved in at night was clearly the result of a chaotic struggle within the Dark World, and God knows why the people involved in that moment, such as the police, were there. If this old Duroc has interests with either side of the forces on either side of the murder or the killing, and is a collaborator of one or the other faction of these two people, then there will really be some trouble at all.

But now, one of the reasons Ed didn't go straight to sleep at night was because he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep much at all, and he might as well spend it thinking about something. And the reason why he couldn't sleep long at all was because he wouldn't be in a cell for long. He knew that the detective, the old thing with the same aura as Marcy, would definitely investigate as much as he could about him and today's incident overnight. Then, he will come out.

And the development of things did not surprise him. Now, in the early hours of the morning—I don't know what time it was, but it was very early, and I couldn't even see the whiteness of the fish's belly in the sky—old Duroc brought him up. And judging by the current situation, he probably didn't plan to throw him back again.

Once seated, Ed put his hands on the table and met old Duroc with his eyes half-open. Ed is not young anymore, but in front of old Duroc, of course, he is still a young man, a little guy. Duroc Sr. is forty-five years old, fifteen years older than Eddard, and half of Eddard's life is now - it may be a little inaccurate to say that, because the New Year is coming soon, and after the New Year, Ed will be thirty-one, and the old Duroc will be forty-six. The two of them are a year older, and they are a little closer to death, which is gratifying and congratulating.

The party of the little ones and the little ones had a characteristic peculiar to people of their age, and now there was an atmosphere between Ed and Old Duroc that was unique to their adults. Neither of them spoke for a short time, they just sat dryly, gasping for breath, looking at each other, creating a somewhat strange and sticky silence. There was no third person in the room besides them, otherwise it might not have turned out to be what it is now. But although there is no sound flowing in the space, in fact, communication has begun.

Ed moved his fingers and drew a circle on the table. Old Duroc was the first to speak.

"I hope you're used to being here, Mr. Eddard." He said motionlessly, in an unwavering tone, tilting his head slightly and raising his chin as if to let Ed taste his beard, "Compared to some of the other identical dwellings you've been in before, we're probably not the best here. ”

He's talking about the fact that Ed has been in cold storage more than once. A smile tugged at the corner of Ed's mouth.

"If you're apologizing, then I don't have to, but I'll take it." Ed cheekily waved his hand and replied earnestly, "I was going to say I wanted you to have a good night's rest tonight - but sure enough, forget it." You obviously haven't slept yet, just like me. No, maybe a little worse than me, I had at least one bed to sit on, albeit not very comfortable. ”

"Well, those beds are really uncomfortable, and they should have been changed a long time ago. It's a pity that the people above never cared about this. ”

"Do you care, honorable Detective Duroc?"

"Interesting, I never seem to have thought about it - because I never knew what my idea could do."

Old Duroc grinned, and even through his thick, polar bear-like beard, Ed could clearly feel the mockery. The only thing he wasn't sure was who the taunt was directed at.

Then the elder Duroc took the initiative of the conversation into his own hands. He tapped his finger on the gun on the table in front of him—Eddard's.

"Dead 35A1," he said, leaning slightly forward towards Ed, bringing the distance between the two sides about a quarter of a nanometer, and looking at Ed with his normally open eyes with a hint of danger, "9 by 19 mm caliber with 22 rounds of extended magazines, flared magazine wells and reshaped hilts, high-precision low recoil, low-lethal warheads, and some obvious additional custom modifications - good guns." He said in admiration, calmly expressing his appreciation and acknowledgment of Ed's pistol, and nodded unabashedly.

Ed left his mouth slightly, clasped his hands in front of his chest, and looked at Old Duroc with some inexplicability. Then, he shifted his gaze downwards and landed on his own gun. Indeed, as the sharp-eyed old detective said, this is a good gun, and it has been specially modified by Ed's special request. Because of Ed's previous habits in the interstellar battlefield, he was better at using battle rifles or machine guns or submachine guns with sufficient ammunition capacity, and of course pistols and the like, but it didn't feel good. It was because of this that the tithes were specially equipped with an extended magazine, and the capacity of 22 rounds was really a bit excessive for a pistol, so that it could not be completely put into the magazine well, and a small section was inevitably exposed.

But Ed really didn't understand why Old Duroc would lead the conversation to his gun at this time. It's not normal, but it doesn't matter, whatever tricks are given to you.

"Thanks," he said, hunching his shoulders, "my friend helped me with such a good toy myself—if that's what you want." ”

"Oh...... Then your friend's ability is really not small. "As far as I know, it is not very easy for even some arms dealers in the black market to get their hands on such a Ceres imported Dead Collector pistol, let alone the latest model." ”

“……”

Ed suddenly understood. If an experienced and extremely serious man like Old Duroc wants to figure something out, but there are one or two things that they don't figure out in the end, then it will be as uncomfortable as having a fishbone stuck in their throat. He thought that the venerable officer might have investigated everything he could about himself, and even put it on file, but he knew and was sure that the information he had investigated about himself was not complete, and could not be complete, and there were some things that he could not have investigated anyway, at least not in such a short time, such as the origin of his pistol, which had made the old expert so concerned.

But that's all there is to it. Tithe, Ed didn't just talk to others. It's not good for him and for others.

"You're right," Ed finally nodded dryly, "she's a great fellow indeed...... Quite remarkable. ”