Ed first met Tagyron outside a low-key, bold, noisy, luxurious, scrapyard-like nightclub in Barblair Beach. He was drunk, and very drunk, and it seemed that the drunken wine was not very good, and he got into a fight. He must have obviously failed to win, because as far as the result goes, he was thrown out of it with his arms and fell on the steps, right in front of Ed's feet.

Ed looked at the two young men—they were young, capable, fierce-looking, blood-filled young men, probably no more than twenty-five. One of them spat on Tagyron's back, hurled a few foul words at him, and then turned and pushed the door back to the club. Tabyron reacted to this with only a few snorts that he couldn't open his eyes, and an angry burp that nearly threw Eddard, who was looking down to help him up, to the bottom of the steps.

The nightclub, called "Red Crocodile", is a relatively secluded underground cabaret bar in the deepest part of an alley on East Barblair Beach Street. And what's interesting is that although the location is not easy to find, the business here is very good, very good, and the good fucking is the same as a bonfire with gasoline spilled. Before Ed could enter, he heard the singing roar coming through the door. Whoever was singing was worth a bucket of beer poured on his head with such a foolish earnestness alone.

Ed focused his attention on the new friend in front of him. It didn't take much effort for him to pull him up—this guy probably didn't weigh more than a hundred and twenty pounds of flesh—and he looked him up and down carefully.

Tabilon is not a young man, nor is he a middle-aged man. He's the kind of person whose age is hard to tell just by his appearance, it's okay to say he's forty, it's okay to say he's sixty—but in Ed's experience, he should be at least fifty-five, between fifty-five and sixty, or even a little further back.

He wore only a purple shirt on his upper body, which had obviously not been washed in a while, dirty, and his open neckline was folded while standing. His hair was all white, slightly curly, a bit like sheep's hair, soft and soft, tender and fragrant, and a close smell could make people sneeze. He must have been so concerned about his hair that he used too much shampoo, maybe half a basin. He has a little stubble on his chin, which is very prick to look at. Although the left side of his face was a little swollen, a tear-like scar could still be seen under his eye—a white scar that was not too obvious, but it could be seen if it was serious. And with this scar, Ed was sure that this was the man he was looking for.

But...... If this was really the guy he was looking for, then he was a little bit of a misnomer—at least not the way Ed had the appearance he had in his head when he had come all the way.

But it doesn't matter, maybe this person is this eccentric personality...... Maybe. Eddard performed a hypnotic persuasion of himself that reminded him of a naked plaster cast in an art classroom, and then put one of Tagbillon's arms on his shoulder, and carried him cautiously up the stairs to the door of the Red Crocodile club.

Tabilon snorted again. He didn't know if it was because he had drunk too much, or because he was stunned, or if it was a combination of the two - his mind was now in a half-conscious, half-chaotic state. He knew he had drunk too much, he knew who he had fought with, he knew who he had thrown somewhere. Then he knew that someone had taken the hand and dragged him up, and was carrying him somewhere.

He realized that someone was helping him, and wanted to say thank you, but halfway through his words it turned into baby babbling. He wanted to help with a little pressure, but the legs were no different from erasers that had been heated in a microwave pan. He was like a huge pendant, and the whole thing hung on Ed's body, and he was dragged forward by Ed step by step.

Just as he was about to push the door, Ed suddenly stopped. He looked back and glanced at the cold, clear night sky.

The time has come to November, and there are more than ten days to usher in the 187th interstellar year of the solar system's star era. Stuttgar's environmental simulation system continued as usual, with four or five snowfalls in quick succession, covering 80 percent of the city center in a sparkling silver hue and completely chilling down.

Ed had taken off his black suit—to wear that kind of dress in this weather—and he had put on a new outfit, a new pair of glasses, a new hairstyle, and a new pair of leather boots.

But there are no surprises to speak of, none of this is his own choice. His upper body was a black stand-up collar jacket, the kind of "semi-armor" type jacket that looked and actually had a hard texture. This is the recommendation that the tithe gave him, and it is the only one that the tithe has recommended to him. The rest, whether it be glasses or pants or boots or gloves, were all ideas that Marcy had helped him to do, and by the way he was the master of everything. He actually had a little idea of his own at the time, but then he was too lazy to say more.

"A new year is about to begin."

Looking at the somewhat reddened night sky burned by the bright lights of the city, Ed licked his lips, exhaled a white breath, and grinned.

……

It's not the bar's owner itself that is in conflict with Tabby's bulge, and Ed is the first to notice this.

He carried Tagyron to the outermost corner of the bar and laid down the old gentleman in the soft plasticine—on the high chair, to be exact. The old gentleman's head slammed on the bar table with a "bang", like a student dozing off in class. The difference is that this one seems to be really asleep.

The bartender, dressed in a blue uniform and wearing a red tie, glanced this way. His face was not quite right, and there was a hint of dissatisfaction in his eyes, and a hint of gloom. It was a perceptive person's reaction when he sensed that trouble was coming.

He politely handed the cocktail in his hand to the guests in front of him, watched them chirp and giggle and turned away, and then leaned over to the two of Eddard.

"Gin with orange juice." Ed said, holding out two fingers, "Two cups, two servings." ”

"Sir."

"By the way, get this friend me a glass of tonic water. He needed to sober up. ”

"Sir," said Red Tie patiently, in a low voice, to Ed, "you and this friend of yours had better get out at once." ”

"Huh?" Ed's face showed an exaggerated expression, "Why, you don't continue to receive people here after getting drunk?" ”

"This friend of yours just got into trouble here," Red Tie ignored the sarcasm in Eide's tone, "and you'll be in trouble if you stay with him." ”

"You're talking about you?"

Red Tie shook his head. "Others," he said, "they haven't noticed yet that the leper dog they've just thrown out is back, but they'll find out." Trust me, friend, if you don't want to be unlucky, hurry up now. ”

Ed licked his lips. He looked at the red tie with his eyes half-open and a smile on his lips. Then he turned his head and looked around the bar lobby - the crowd was going crazy.

Ed is now gradually aware of it, and gradually sees it clearly. Stuttgar is a dark city, a dark forest of steel in a typical civilized world in this sinful starry sky. Beneath that glossy surface, there is a naked law of the jungle – just like human beings, tearing off the thin layer of skin on the surface, and the bloody flesh fascia below.

However, although this layer of skin is thin, it is still necessary, especially the part of the skin must be thick. Not everyone in the city is crazy, or not everyone is crazy enough to stop even the most basic cover-ups. They still have a good way to hide the dark side of their humanity in the deepest part of their hearts, and they must do the same, because the surface of the city must maintain a bright image.

But it's different here—the places that Ed frequents after becoming a detective are more or less connected to the dark world of the twin tracks of civilization. It's a place of indulgence, a place of catharsis, a place to show your true self that you can't normally reveal. It's a place where you can go crazy, a place where you can go crazy.

Everywhere Ed looked, no one was looking at him. People were dancing, singing, laughing, drinking, pinching each other's ears and screaming, kissing lips as if life was coming to an end, and twisted figures occupied every booth. He didn't see the two young men who had thrown Tabillon out of the store, and could only guess that they were in the box with their companions.

He turned his head back, pulled his wallet out of his jacket pocket, pulled two bills out of it, and threw them on the bar.

"No need to look for it," he said indifferently, "give me a better smile." ”

“……”

Red Tie had already had a hint of anger on his face, and he opened his mouth to say something to Ed that was not as polite as before, but the corner of his eye swept the bills on the table first. The denomination on it made him shut his mouth suddenly.

“…… Two glasses of gin with orange juice, double, one glass of tonic water. He lowered his voice and whispered, reaching out to put the money away and putting it in his pocket, "Send it immediately." ”

"Thank you."

"Also," Red Tie added, after a moment's hesitation, with a smile that could be called bright, "they're on the Fourteenth." ”

"Fourteen?"

"Fourteen."

“…… Number fourteen. ”

Edmore rubbed his chin. He turned his head back and glanced down the hallway leading to the box area. Then he saw two familiar figures.