"Don't you just want her to be a bad person?"

Benjamin leaned his head back on the couch and didn't even look at the rabbit anymore.

Ever since leaving Jacob's liaison house with Esther, Benjamin has avoided making eye contact with Esther, and Esther can only guess what he is worried about.

The truth and falsehood are piled up in layers, covering up the weakness of the "thief", as well as the vacillation and doubts hidden underneath.

Benjamin didn't know what he was avoiding.

The rabbit bit his lip in silence and looked at Benjamin without speaking, standing one step away from Benjamin.

Esther's expression was very indifferent, but there was not the slightest smile on her face, and there seemed to be a veil in her eyes: "If you don't want to, it's okay, it's not difficult for me."

The rabbit looked at her, his voice getting quieter, "I know you don't really want to do this, I don't understand what you're saying, but at least I can see how you're feeling......

As the rabbit closed its mouth and the room fell silent, the little light Benjamin had given off had faded, and the living room, covered with white cloth on the furniture, sank into darkness once more.

This did not hinder Esther's vision, and she looked at the rabbit's hands clutched tightly on the oil-paper bag, but she didn't know what to say to comfort him.

This matter was predestined from the beginning, and her momentary kindness did not have a corresponding good result.

With a slight "click", the rabbit's tears fell on the oiled paper bag, and he was glad that it was dark in the room, and Esther might not see his shame.

However, Esther could see it clearly, and the moment she moved her steps, Benjamin's voice rang out in the darkness, coming from the couch from an unmoved position: "Yes, I will steal your memories."

It took a few seconds for the rabbit to calm down his emotions and fears before he whispered, "Thank you."

"Is that good?" Esther took another step forward, approaching the figure on the couch.

Benjamin knew that she was not asking "whether it was appropriate for him to steal the memory", but that she was questioning Benjamin's purpose - why would he agree? Obviously, he was the one who verbally bullied the rabbit before, and he was also the one who was disgusted and hostile to the rabbit.

Benjamin didn't know either, but he had his own plans, so he let out a chuckle and then fell silent again.

The rabbit took one last look at Esther, but it was too dark for him to see anything, only to sketch in his mind the floating light and Esther's eyes.

Occasionally, when she looked at herself, she felt pity for a fish that couldn't fly into the sky and swirled in a bucket.

The rabbit reached out in the direction of the figure, but before he could say anything, the darkness that hung in front of him extended into his consciousness, robbing him of his ability to think.

When he passed out, he felt someone rushing up to support his fallen body.

——

The boy opened his eyes from the bed groggily, his bright brown hair hanging down in front of his eyes, shadows falling over his eyelashes, making his sleepy demeanor more gloomy.

The dark light melted into the warm breeze, through the open windows, and into the mottled wallpaper cabin, flicking the translucent curtains.

The boy clenched his fists and rubbed his eyes, for some reason he was clenching a handkerchief tightly in his hand, and he moved his neck around, always feeling that there was a double vision in front of him, full of the unreality of having a long dream.

It's just that the moment I open my eyes, I forget what I dreamed about.

It was familiar with the weather and air quality, but it was definitely not a familiar building, and he was in a completely unfamiliar environment.

The boy suddenly realized this as he stared at the mold spots in the corners of the wooden ceiling.

He quickly came to his senses, sat up sharply from his bed, and surveyed the room around him further.

He was dressed in light, loose pajamas, and a perfectly sized pair of suspenders and shirt were folded and placed beside the bed, with the old hat he was familiar with.

The boy did not rush to put on his clothes, but clenched the handkerchief in his hand and subconsciously stuffed it into his pajamas

, which made his pockets bulge.

It's not spacious, but the room is fully furnished:

The desk and wooden chair with paper, notebook and pen holder looked like something carefully prepared, a tall wardrobe with double doors was big enough for two of him, and the shelves with drawers were full of books that the boy couldn't read, but there were also illustrated picture books that he could read, and a basic word book.

He didn't know much about how he could read, but he knew the peculiarities of these things, as if someone had given him an invisible expectation, which made him feel heavy on his shoulders.

There was a dial hanging on the wall, and it was just six o'clock.

The boy cautiously crouched to the ground, but there was nothing under the bed except two crates with quilts. He glanced out the window, which was only the height of the second floor, and he could have climbed out of the window, jumped among the nearby bushes, and escaped from there at the risk of his feet.

Then the boy approached the closet, ready for the escape route through the window, and on the alert to see something terrible, and slammed it open—it contained only brand new clothes, and even a more slender short-swing rune suit, where no one was hiding, ready to attack the people in the house.

Half of the clothes were longer and wider than the rabbit's current body, and looked like they could last a long time.

After inspecting the places where people might be hidden, the boy made sure that the door was locked, and then walked over to the table, pulled out a chair and sat down on it.

The tables and chairs were large for his size, but they left room for him as he grew up, and on the table were two of the more unusual things in the room, an oiled paper bag and an envelope made of newspaper.

After taking a preliminary look at his surroundings, the boy reached for a thick stack of oil-paper packets, for he doubted that he could read the contents of the envelope.

He cautiously unwrapped a corner of the paper bag and looked inside.

Then the boy slapped his palm on the oiled paper bag, and his heart was pounding with ecstasy, and there was a large stack of gold pounds in it, at least a few hundred gold pounds from the glance he had just scanned!

What followed was uneasiness, why did he appear in this room, and someone still left so much money? Who the hell is it?

The boy pushed the oiled paper bag to the table, keeping it away from him, otherwise it would be difficult for him to think calmly about the current situation, greed and doubt were entangled, and he began to suspect that he had not yet woken up from his dream.

How could anyone leave these for themselves? Maybe there would be some explanation in that envelope?

So the boy reached for the envelope and poured out the contents - a brass key and a handwritten letter with graffiti.

The boy unfolded the folded handwritten letter, the back of which was neat and square, but he did not recognize a few words at all, turned the paper over to the back, and observed the simple but discernible scribbles on it:

A rabbit lying on an open book with slightly twisted lines, a chef's hat with clock dials next to it that show nine and eight o'clock, and a separate circled and ticked emblem of the Church of the Night.

Is this a public school for me to study hard and go to the Church of the Night? What does that chef's hat mean......

The boy scratched the back of his head for a moment, it was still a long time before nine o'clock, and he didn't know if he should explore the lower door to find out what it was.

Just as the boy was hesitating, a chuckle suddenly came from the window, with a very uncomfortable sense of contempt.

He turned his head vigilantly, but only saw a black-and-white long-tailed magpie with a circle of white down feathers around the magpie's eyes, as if wearing a circle of blindfolds, which was impressive.

The boy looked at the magpie for a moment, and just as he thought he had misheard, the magpie spoke, "Is there anything in your pocket?"

The magpie spoke, but the boy felt more wary and fearful than surprised, as if he had ever seen the magpie speak: "What are you? I've never seen a talking magpie."

"That's because you don't know much." The magpie chuckled again, convinced the boy that it was the sound it had made before.

The boy got up from his chair and stepped back to the closet

Keeping his distance from the window, he quickly considered the situation and came up with a plausible conjecture: "It's you? Or did your owner bring me here?"

He looked around the room again, "What the hell is that person trying to do, does it have anything to do with me?"

"Do you want to see for yourself? That's something you shouldn't remember." The magpie's eyes narrowed, and the boy always felt that there was no good intentions in its words.

The boy faltered, and he quickly decided, "I want to ask first what is written on this letter, do you know how to read?"

The magpie was silent for a few moments, "I can help you, but you have to accept the memories."

The boy fell silent, his hand pressed against the handkerchief, his eyes flickering.

Then the magpie looked up, "I won't waste time with you, it won't be good if she finds out."

A light floated in his right eye, and the boy snorted and fell to the ground in pain.

The magpie looked at his reaction indifferently, "Your identification is also in that pile of gold pounds. Alright, now come forward, I have something for you."

The pain in the rabbit's mind gradually subsided, and he was suddenly stuffed with a large amount of memories and "knowledge", which caused his spirit to suffer a lot, but he resisted his pain and sat up from the ground with the corner of his forehead.

Now that he knew who the magpie was, the rabbit didn't want to show a vulnerable look in front of Benjamin.

Benjamin didn't care, but spoke again: "Don't let me repeat it, come here."

The rabbit grabbed the handkerchief in his pocket and walked to the window.

The magpie flapped its wings twice in front of him, and a feather quietly fell, from the tip and root of the feather to the dark green of the lake when reflected, and the middle section was pure white with an arc-shaped outer edge, and there was no excessive and clear boundary between black and white.

"Take it and put it on the day your life is in danger."

Wear? Isn't that a piece of feather? Going to stick it in your hair?

Before the rabbit could say what was in his heart, the magpie shook his head:

"If you want to use it to study and read, you can wear it in your left eye or put it in front of your left eye, and it will help you understand some of the things you don't know, including the ones I stuffed into your head.

"But you must remember that only when you are threatened with your life and have no choice, then wear it in your right eye."

Then the magpie kicked on the edge of the window and flew into the sky without looking back.

"Wait! You've broken your promise with her!? Why are you giving me back your memories?"

In the next second, its figure disappeared directly, and the magpie left directly.

The rabbit's words were still half a beat slower, which made the boy puzzled.

Do you know that I will definitely ask, so you are avoiding this question?

The rabbit leaned over and picked up the feather, and the moment he pinched it, the feather wriggled and contracted, changing shape.

The result is a crystal-polished monocle.