Chapter 41 Chapter 41 My brain is really broken now
Toru Amuro knew that he shouldn't continue like this.
He needs to cheer up.
His mission is not yet complete.
*
Vermouth said that according to Champagne's plan, they were now certain that one of the three new recruits was indeed an undercover agent. However, they were still unable to confirm who the undercover agent was.
Toru Amuro pulled the corners of his mouth, but could not make any expression, only a bitter smile and self-mockery in his heart.
Of course he knew who the undercover was, he knew it very well.
He was also involved in the plan that ended Olga's life. He was one of the executioners.
But he couldn't tell anyone. He could only keep this secret forever.
Who was responsible for her death? Him? Morobushi Kagemitsu? Or Champagne?
All of this is meaningless now.
His original mission was to conceal his and Morobushi Kagemitsu's identities, and his original mission was also to seize Champagne.
In the end, it seemed as if there was nothing he could do for Olga.
*
Olga sank into the sea. She felt cold, infinitely cold.
The wounds on his body seemed to have long been numb and no longer caused any pain.
She drifted with the current and sank deeper into the sea.
Her consciousness was fragmented and unclear. Suddenly, in a ray of moonlight that occasionally fell into the sea, she saw an eye. A black eye, set on black skin. It was not a human eye.
It was looking at her.
Something huge seemed to be approaching her. She felt a sudden change in the water waves.
Is it a shark?
Before she completely lost consciousness, Olga thought calmly, "Being eaten by a shark wouldn't be such a bad idea."
With one last glance, she saw the huge black and white creature coming towards her.
*
She seemed to be flying on something, or lying on a swaying boat.
She heard the sound of waves.
Then, there was an even louder sound, so vague that it was hard to make out clearly.
Then there's the warm and dry touch.
The sound of the waves disappeared, but she seemed to still be lying on the boat, drifting with the waves.
“…”
It was as if someone was speaking to her. She tried hard to make out what was being said.
"……child……"
She saw a chin, the skin not so smooth.
Further up, a slightly shriveled mouth opened and closed.
"——Child, wake up."
It felt as if a warm, dry hand was pressing against her forehead. The skin on the palm was rough, yet it held a warmth that made her reluctant to let go.
"Are you feeling better, kid?"
She finally opened her heavy eyelids and saw the person in front of her clearly.
She was a woman in her forties or fifties, with a hint of white in her black hair and fine wrinkles on her face that bore the marks of time.
The woman wasn't pretty, with narrow eyes, a dark complexion, and a broad nose with a slightly downward-curving tip. Her knuckles were also thick, evidence of years of physical labor.
Eskimos.
The word appeared in her mind almost instantly, followed by a sharp pain. Her hearing seemed to disappear again, leaving only a continuous buzzing sound in her ears.
She saw the woman in front of her turn around anxiously, trying to find something.
She wanted to make a sound, but her throat was like a broken bellows, and could only make a strange and hoarse leaking sound.
The woman brought her a glass of water, which was warm and had a salty smell of the sea.
The warm water slid down her throat, causing a pain and she tasted blood, but she still drank the water in the cup.
Drink it and you'll feel better. She didn't know why she thought that, but she did it.
The woman took the empty cup from her hand and looked at her worriedly again: "Child, what's your name? How did you fall into the sea?"
It took her a long time to distinguish the woman's words from the buzzing sound in her ears.
Concussion.
The incomprehensible noun suddenly appeared in my mind again.
who is she?
She stared blankly at the woman, and saw her own reflection in her pupils—her hair was crimson, and she...
The pain in her head intensified like a wave. She tried to hold her head in agony, but was shocked to find that her arms were completely powerless.
"It's okay, it's okay, everything will be fine." The woman patted her back gently to comfort her. Perhaps it was because she didn't act strong enough.
"...I, cough, I," she tried several times before finally making a less vague sound, "...I don't remember." Her mind was blank, with nothing except some strange nouns that popped up from time to time.
The woman's eyes widened in surprise. For a long moment, she caressed her cheek lovingly. The rough calluses on her fingertips didn't feel pleasant, but she didn't resist at all.
"Poor child, you must have hit your head on a reef." The woman wiped away the tears that had fallen from the corners of her eyes with her fingertips: "Oh, don't cry, don't cry. Everything will be fine!"
She saw herself through the eyes of the woman, her head wrapped in a ridiculous white cloth.
Did I hurt my head?
She hesitantly raised her right hand, the only one that could muster some strength, and gently touched the area wrapped in white gauze.
"hiss--"
Sure enough, there was a sharp pain.
"I……"
Who is it?
*
The Eskimo couple named her "Cornelia." They often called her by her nickname, "Nele."
This is a small fishing village, usually devoid of tourists, save for the occasional lost traveler. There are only a few hundred people in the village, most of whom make their living by fishing, with no complex commercial commerce or social etiquette.
The village is usually very quiet. The vast expanse of white snow, the sky, and the sea slow down the pace of life. People's lives are not rich, but they are comfortable.
"Nailer, we caught a lot of salmon today. Let's go to Aunt Anna's shop and ask if they have any basil powder left. We can have grilled fish tonight!"
From a distance, Cornelia could hear Sarah's voice coming from the sea.
"good--!"
Cornelia held her hands in front of her like trumpets and shouted back at Sarah. The child's clear voice carried across the sea breeze to the floating fishing boat.
The Eskimo couple, Sarah and Finn, who were in their late fifties, had been childless until they adopted Cornelia.
Today, the family of three lives a comfortable life in the small fishing village.
Cornelia jumped off the rocks on the shore, got on a cart pulled by two Alaskan dogs, and drove towards the grocery store run by Ms. Anna in the village.
"Oh! Look, here comes our little Naraku!"
Aunt Anna warmly welcomed Conelia and, as always, gave her the basil powder she needed at a very low price, almost for free.
"Aunt Anna, I'm so embarrassed!" Cornelia stuck out her tongue at Anna mischievously.
Anna laughed heartily.
"Naile, dear," she kissed Conelia's forehead, "our little angel, don't say that!"
The aging problem in this small village is very serious. Almost all the young people have chosen to leave the village to work hard in big cities. Only a few children and many middle-aged and elderly people are left here.
There is only one school in the village, and one teacher teaches a dozen children of different ages.
Everyone was very enthusiastic about Conelia's arrival, which was like a sudden addition of a touch of bright color to a gloomy picture.
With her lively personality and pleasant appearance, Cornelia quickly won the love of the whole village.
On the way home, Cornelia was like a queen parading through the streets, enthusiastically responding to everyone's greetings as she sat in her dog-drawn cart. In front of her were two silly Alaskan dogs, their tongues hanging out, running at a reasonable pace.
Cornelia had a satisfied smile on her face.
She doesn't remember her past, but she has a satisfying present.
*
Thanksgiving is almost here.
On Thanksgiving Eve, the first film in which Kudo Yusaku himself served as the screenwriter was officially released.
"Dark Knight: A White Thanksgiving" received widespread acclaim and remained a hot topic upon its release, becoming the most popular blockbuster in theaters during the entire Thanksgiving holiday.
"I didn't expect it's been almost half a year."
After the movie ended, the cast list continued to scroll on the big screen. People stood there reluctantly, occasionally discussing the content of the film excitedly.
At the end, the entire screen went completely dark. The theater was plunged into darkness, with only the sign pointing to the emergency exit emitting a faint green light.
Vermouth sat with her legs crossed in the last row of chairs. She didn't stand up, but looked at the person sitting next to her.
"Well? It's about time you gave up, Bourbon?"
Amuro Toru said nothing. In the darkness, Vermouth couldn't see the expression on his face, only the faint lines of his jaw tightening.
Vermouth sighed silently.
The organization later searched that sea area many times but found nothing.
The cliff was so high and there were so many rocks underneath. Not to mention someone who was hit by several wooden sluices, even if Olga in her prime fell down, she might not survive.
not to mention……
According to the organization's informant in Interpol, Olga was indeed shot with many bullets that day. Many Interpol magazines were emptied.
In this situation, even Olga...
"Even if you don't acknowledge her death, what's the point?"
Vermouth seemed to be saying this to Amuro Toru, but also seemed to be saying it to herself.
Vermouth even vaguely heard some news that this death was arranged by Olga herself - she personally asked the member of the organization undercover in Interpol to order the Interpol who were present at the time to open the warehouse.
Is it intentional?
Perhaps. After all, she wasn't particularly enthusiastic about "living."
However, there's no need to tell Bourbon about this kind of gossip...
Vermouth stood up and walked past Amuro Toru towards the cinema exit. Her steps were a little hurried, as if reflecting her restless heart.
Over the past six months, Amuro Toru has often returned to the cliff. He helps Olga clean up her room. He even contacted the university and applied for a leave of absence on her behalf.
However, it is meaningless for a person who has already died to apply for leave of absence.
…
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