Outside the window, people were lying on their backs, and there were gunshots and screams everywhere, but inside the house was a different scene of peace and tranquility.
The old desk lamp on the table emits a warm yellow soft light, which is not very bright, but just enough to take care of the sight range of the entire table.
The gray-haired Falco cabinet member was sitting behind the table, half holding a glass of aged tequila in his hand. In the haze, there was a faint gray-red firelight, and the old man was enjoying a top-quality cigar.
"This is the last one, well...it doesn't taste that good anymore."
He said so, but Falcone had no idea of putting down the cigar. Instead, he raised his hand to drink up the wine in the glass and placed the glass on the table. The crisp sound of ice cubes hitting each other sounded, and one hand stretched out to open the glass. drawer and took out a brass-colored revolver.
"I really miss it."
There is a line of names engraved on the handle of the revolver, but the light is dim and it is difficult to see clearly.
He reached out and grabbed it, and the same brass-colored bullets fell on the table, rolling around and making a nice sound when they hit the glass cup.
With slightly squinting eyes, the old Falcone filled the revolver with bullets one by one, waved his hand to straighten the magazine, flipped the firing pin, leaned on the velvet wooden chair behind him, sighed softly, and raised his head. The hand holding the gun quietly pointed in the direction of the door.
The firelight flickered, constantly casting changing shadows on old Falcone's face.
"gentlemen!"
The door was pushed open and Falcone's butler came in: "We need to get out of here..."
boom!
The bullet hit the door frame next to the butler's ear, and sawdust flew and stung his face.
"gentlemen……"
"Get out, Monroe."
"Can……"
"Monroe."
"...Yes, sir. Your will is everything."
The butler gave a half-length salute, then stepped back, stretched out his hand to hold the doorknob, and slowly closed it.
In his gradually narrowing vision, the butler discovered for the first time that the master he had served for thirty years was actually so old.
He couldn't even sit upright anymore.
Click. The door closed again.
Falcone changed into a comfortable position and sat on the backrest again, still pointing the gun at the door quietly, waiting for something quietly.
………………………………
The noises and lights no longer appeared.
When did it happen? One minute? ten minutes?
Falcone was in a daze.
His fingers twitched, and the burnt cigar ashes fell onto the carpet like a small chimney.
"It's a pity, I haven't seen cigar ashes in such good shape for a long time."
The old man was alone and muttered something to himself.
At this time, the excessively quiet house made Falcone suddenly feel that it was not good for the house to be too big.
Just like now, when there is no sound at all, the emptiness is a bit breathtaking.
"Heh, it's better to have some sound."
In the corridor outside the door, a faint singing voice suddenly sounded, ethereal and terrifying.
"OH my darling oh my darling~"
"oh my darling clementine~"
"you were lost and gone forever~"
“dreadful sorry clementine~~”
Then, the singing stopped abruptly.
Clang, clang, clang.
There's a knock on the door.
Falcone's temples were beating rapidly, his nose flaring, his pupils dilated, and a thin layer of cold sweat broke out on his palms.
Trembling, he poured himself another glass of wine, grabbed the glass and drank it like a swig.
Perhaps it was the effect of alcohol, or perhaps Falcone had figured something out. He regained his composure and said in the most majestic words possible: "Please, please come in."
There was a creaking sound, and the door was slowly pushed open.
Bang bang bang bang bang!
The moment he saw the dark figure at the door, Falcone frantically pulled the trigger and fired all the remaining bullets in the pistol.
"Ah, old man, this is indeed how it works."
The unlucky captain in Linn's hand had five more holes opened by Falcon that wouldn't bleed.
After casually throwing the dead squad leader to the ground, Falcone finally saw who his enemy was and what he looked like.
"Hello. Hey, don't be like this."
Panicked people always find it difficult to suppress the trembling of their fingers, and Falcone now found that his fingers could not put a bullet into the gun.
Suddenly everything went dark, and for a moment Falcone felt the wind.
Then, he was knocked to the ground with a chain hammer from Lin En who rushed up.
"Hey old man, the ground is getting cooler."
Holding Falcone's arms, Linn piled the old man with blood on his face on the seat and kindly helped him straighten his tie.
Look, this is a big shot. No matter when he is dressed neatly, this is the standard aristocratic behavior.
"Gotham..."
"What did you say?"
Lin En originally wanted to take action directly, but now he was curious about what this dying old man wanted to say.
"Hey, there's such a long length of soot. This thing is very useful in stopping bleeding."
Pulling off the gold-embroidered silk scarf on the chest of Falcone's suit jacket, Linn stuck a handful of cigarette ashes on the old man's forehead, tied it with a handkerchief, and completed the first aid treatment.
"The wine is good. Now, let's talk."
Lin En held another wine glass that was not spattered with blood, leaning on the thick solid wood table, and calmly raised the glass to the old man.
"..."
"What? Can't hear you clearly."
"…………"
"install?"
"…………"
Snapped!
"Your damn voice is at home! Oh, I'm sorry, this is your home. I forgot. Look, this shouldn't be done..."
Once again, Lin lifted the old man up from the ground and piled him on the chair. This time, Linn had no cigarette ashes to use.
Fortunately, the Falcone's bed curtains are nice.
"Then what, you...continue?"
"Ho...ho...you, you can't end the evil in Gotham. You and I are the same people. There are deeper evils in Gotham. They will bewitch you and drag you by the neck." The rope will lead you into the deep water, you..."
"Can you speak Chinese? No, please explain it clearly. You are almost dead and you are still doing this. It is unnecessary, old gentleman."
Lynn was unfazed and even wanted to have another drink.
He did indeed turn around quickly and pour another glass of wine. His nonchalant look made Falcone, who had been bleeding from the top of his head, feel a pain that was more serious than the physical pain.
"You, you don't know anything!"
"Okay, I know. I really, really know."
Lin suddenly pulled up a chair and sat next to the old man with an expressionless expression, and also followed his example and leaned back on the chair.
"It's nothing more than some kind of power and money transactions, superpowers, secretive and ancient families...
Frankly, you people have no idea what the real dangers are.
The man who was farming next door didn't know when he suddenly recognized his kin, and he probably didn't know when he changed into black pants.
There is someone farther away who can restart the world at every turn, which is difficult to deal with...
Friends are all like this, those in the sea, those from the gods, those jumping around the timeline...
You don’t even know what’s farther away and what’s on the enemy side. That thing almost turned over the earth when it was only eight years old. Do you think I can’t be afraid?
I just want to live, it’s not easy...
Old man, do you think it's easy for me? You...
Old man?
Fuck, dead.
You really died happily.
well……"
In the quiet study room, Lin En leaned on a chair next to a dead old man, sighing and drinking wine alone.
"Tsk...this stuff tastes pretty good, let's have another drink.
Ouch? This one tastes good too. Let’s have another drink.
Oops, this too...
Ouch...! "
