Chapter 45 Although they are a bit gay, they are really pure friends (defense
Even though Dazai Osamu refused to admit it, even though Dazai Osamu despised him and often cursed him, Mori Ogai was a very powerful person.
Anyone who has been with Mori Ogai for a long time will be amazed by his self-discipline and extremely high self-requirements, which are as precise as if cut to the second. He never slacked off for even a second. Life, study and work, these matters are precisely divided and inserted into his life.
He is very patient and has great patience with everything. He could wait for several years before taking action when the time was right, and he could also take the trouble to test himself with new books given to him by Dazai Osamu, and even memorize the locations, smells and shapes of hundreds of bottles of medicine, and then shuffle them in a way that it was impossible for anyone to remember.
He never seems to be tired. Only his high demands on himself are always hanging in the sky, guiding him forward forever.
Wherever Mori Ogai is, that is his absolute territory. Dazai Osamu lives in the territory of Mori Ogai. To him, all the struggles and conspiracies in the world are boring movies with ready-made scripts that are played out frame by frame in his mind. He can even read the psychological and environmental descriptions of every scene. Only, only Mori Ogai, he is always curious and always vigilant.
It is not known whether it was intentional or a result of curiosity, driven by a shallow and almost non-existent emotion, he confronted Mori Ogai head-on, but he had never confronted Mori Ogai head-on.
He never really wanted to be hostile to this person, and he somehow concluded that Mori Ogai would not really be hostile to him. He was alert, but not completely alert.
This tangled, complex and slightly hideous relationship is the strange bond connecting Mori Ogai and Dazai Osamu. It seems that it can be easily broken, but it is also extremely tough.
"You are a lot like me, my past self," said Mori Ogai.
There was still a calm smile on his face. In order to lighten his slightly feminine and gentle appearance, he did not shave his beard as he was always a clean freak. He looked like a lousy uncle who was busy practicing medicine and saving lives.
"No way." Dazai Osamu thought.
He would never become someone like Mori Ogai.
He doesn't like to demand anything from himself, and he doesn't need to demand anything from himself.
There was nothing that could grab him, and everything in this world was equally boring.
He didn't say anything, but expressed his resistance with his attitude. Mori Ogai just laughed softly and stopped talking.
For some reason, Dazai Osamu could see his attitude from his silence.
"That's who you are, Dazai."
Mori Ogai was looking at him, and the teacher who knew him well had a firm look in his eyes:
"If you really find your purpose in life, you will become like me"
…
The expressionless black-haired boy had deep eyes and he blinked as if he was bored. He slowly turned his head and opened the door.
Only the swaying wind remains in the room.
**
Although Nakahara Chuuya and Dazai Osamu were in contact, the two people did not exchange any information at all.
Nakahara Chuuya only knew that Dazai Osamu was following a private doctor, and didn't know that he had already joined the Port Mafia. Although he knew that someone was investigating Arahato, he remembered that person was a space-related person, so he always thought that there was someone else who was responsible for the crime of resurrecting Arahato in the previous generation. I was still wondering privately why all the recent incidents of Huang Ba Tu happened at once.
Dazai Osamu knew that Nakahara Chuuya was thinking about joining the mafia and was investigating Arahato, but he had no idea that he was Arahato, and he had no idea about the abnormality of Randou, a new cadre in the Port Mafia.
This cannot be blamed on Qian Jianmu. He didn’t say anything until the two of them asked.
In addition, these two people rarely exchange information when they meet. They basically either play around or make fun of each other, and they don't ask each other questions.
This led to Dazai Osamu and Nakahara Chuuya meeting in a weird way, and then they met in a weird way that you know I don’t know, and I know you don’t know, and they completed the entire investigation of Aramatsu…
Then when they saw Randou again, Nakahara Chuuya suddenly realized something, and Dazai Osamu also suddenly realized something, but the direction... was different.
One focuses on Huang Batu, and the other focuses on the case.
Well...it's not that bad?
There is a sad information barrier between us.jpg
What happened was very confusing and subtle, but the final result was that, after much consideration, Lan Tang, oh no, now called Rimbaud... was imprisoned in the dungeon of the port mafia... and wrote poetry?
The shrine feels like some kind of writing school for people with special abilities, providing literary enlightenment and training for people with special abilities. The children we train are all MLM teachers. They will sell to everyone they meet: Have you written it? Have you written it? Have you written it?
Rimbaud didn't really want to recall what happened at that time. It was a huge Waterloo in his life. He had been at Waterloo for the past few years and was almost exterminated from the earth.
He recently recalled some things with great difficulty. He remembered that his mission was to find Arahato. Although he didn't know what happened that caused him to break up with his partner, he felt that by reading Nakahara Chuuya's body, he could get both Arahato and his memories, a win-win situation, so he went for it.
Will you win? Guaranteed to win.
Rimbaud was full of confidence.
So he was held down before he could finish reading the words.
Nakahara Chuuya looks like a violent man with a distinct personality and an impulsive temper. At first glance, he is the kind of brainless psychic. Although he is alert, he doesn't take it seriously. As a result, this kid was very cunning. He looked at Dazai Osamu and their brain circuits matched. Then the two of them began to collude to set a trap for him...
Although he was very smart and a transcendent, he was still missing a large part of his memory. Moreover, after staying in Yokohama for so long, his keen sense of judging right from wrong with just a gust of wind was severely weakened, and he capsized in the gutter under the combined efforts of the gravity user and the nullifier.
When the knife pierced his body, the coldness paralyzed his senses. He thought he would die there, but he recovered almost all of his memories in his near-death experience.
He was ready to face death. He began to think about what he could leave behind and he began to regret his losses.
He accepted death and failure, and he was not afraid of dying in battle from the beginning. The only thing that bothered him was Verlaine.
Verlaine was brought up by him. They might be teacher and student, comrades-in-arms, or partners. No one knew Verlaine better than he did; he even gave Verlaine his name. His feelings towards Verlaine were very complicated. He neither believed nor understood that Verlaine would betray him.
Nakahara Chuuya is very similar to Verlaine.
Like a smaller version of Verlaine.
When he and Verlaine first met, Verlaine was a little older than Nakadashi. He is the weapon of the shepherd, the 'Black Twelve', an artificial life form with superpowers, a lab rat, a weapon manipulated by piano strings.
He released him from his bonds and sent him out into the world.
The past is a blank, but the memories are boring. The smell of disinfectant and the disabled experimental subjects mixed together to create an unpleasant odor. In this desolate hell, the anthropomorphic artificial life form was as silent as a shadow.
He asked, “Do you have a name?”
The monster didn't speak.
His name is 'Black Twelve', he has no name.
But how can a person not have a name?
From birth, parents give their children names. If everyone is a book, then the cover of the book is his name. Since birth, every laugh and every cry will be recorded neatly in the book. Everyone took their own book and exchanged it with others, smiling with excitement or disgust while flipping through other people's stories, and then allowed the other person to write and draw on their own book.
After some time has passed, they will return the book to each other, walk to the next intersection holding the book, and wait for the next passerby.
If you lose your name and your books, you will lose the right to laugh and cry, the tool to communicate with others, and the most important thing in life.
After thinking about it, he said:
"How about calling you Verlaine? That's my name."
Verlaine raised his head and looked at him with his heavy gray eyes.
"My words..." He thought, this is something worth remembering.
He was a romantic Frenchman who summed up his life in beautiful poems. Now he tore off the inner pages of his life book and gave away the cover, which had been rubbed and bore traces of time, personally. From then on, that person will have a part of life that belongs to him, and from then on his name will be filled with new stories.
He thought he should remember it by a new name.
Then, an inspiration suddenly appeared, just like the light blue cold light in the window and the light gray shadows left after the blooming branches faded when he woke up at midnight. It was like a dream with a layer of extremely beautiful mist floating in it, but it hooked and pulled him into inexplicable thoughts. This suddenly reminded me of a variation of the word "Black Twelve". As if it was an intuitive stroke of genius, a name came out of my mouth between the tip of my tongue and my lips and teeth.
"… Rambo, my name is Rambo."
"Black Twelve" is the book of the little blond monster in front of him. The book is full of unpleasant pasts. Anyone would want to tear up the book and burn it, but he thought about it, picked up the torn cover, trimmed the damaged part of the book that smelled of disinfectant and the twisted combination of words pulled by piano wire. Just like tending to a vase of beautiful flowers, he transformed this unpleasant past into a name that suited his aesthetic sense, then patched it up into a brand new cover and stuffed his entire life into it.
The name is a pointer to a destroyed book, but it is more a pointer to the person to whom the book belonged.
Although this probably doesn’t count as exchanging names, it’s also a very romantic story, right?
The government valued Verlaine's abilities and assigned Rimbaud to personally teach Verlaine to be an intelligence agent, to be a killer, or to be loyal to the country and to work hard. He remembered that at the beginning, Verlaine was just like a machine, without any emotion, blank, but very easy to teach. Whatever the task was, Verlaine knew about it and did it.
Sometimes he would get stuck because it was too strange to call someone his own name. Many times when his friends called him, Verlaine would react like him, and then he would explain to them while his friends were confused. And Verlaine just looked at him calmly, quietly, without saying a word.
He remembered one day during teaching, he half-jokingly said that he had to complete the next task even if it meant his death, and if he couldn't complete it, he would die. He saw Verlaine look up at him and nod slowly.
He asked, "Don't you want to say something?"
Verlaine said, “I cannot fail.”
“What if it fails?” he asked.
Verlaine said: "Then die."
No hesitation, just stating a fact.
Rambo was silent for a moment, then said, "There is no such thing. It doesn't matter if you fail. You are very important. I am kidding."
Verlaine still said nothing, but nodded as usual.
He didn't understand why he was joking. He only knew that Rimbaud had updated the mission and removed the factor of death. Other than that, he didn't think about anything else.
He didn't feel that he needed to think too much. He was planned and educated to think about intelligence, killing techniques, and ways of escape. But regarding the human part, he felt that it was just like humans and animals. There was no need for them to understand each other, and there was no need for them to communicate.
Rambo thought this was not the story he wanted to see.
He didn't want to see this book belonging to Verlaine destroyed so early.
He carefully took care of the cover of Verlaine's book. He couldn't bear to see the story inside, which was full of rules and regulations, blood, loneliness, isolation, and inhuman thoughts.
But he was a cautious person with a great sense of distance. He did not interfere or say much. He just observed, remained silent, guided, and tried his best to arrange himself as Verlaine's partner.
In the training camp, in the work environment, and in communication with colleagues. Because of the Shepherd's vicious reputation, almost everyone knows Weilun's identity as an artificial supernatural life form.
It's not that this secret was made public, but that Verlaine's working environment meant that the people he came into contact with were not ordinary people. The trends and intelligence regarding one’s own country are also intelligence. Even if no one talks about it, everyone knows it.
People with malicious intentions do not treat him as a human being, and do not even think that he is of the same species as themselves.
People with good intentions are often frightened by his calm, almost emotionless gaze. So I thought to myself, it’s indeed different from normal people.
No one saw him as a human being.
He himself also feels that he is different from other human beings.
Verlaine lived in such an environment.
Sometimes Rimbaud would wonder if he didn't see him as a human being either. Did his act of exchanging names close the last door on his path as a human being?
Under the influence of alcohol and lights, Rimbaud confided in his friend, who laughed heartily.
"You're the only one who cares so much about him..."
Rimbaud fell silent, and he realized clearly that he cared too much. At the same time, he realized that he had another hopeless thought: is it true that no one thinks there is something wrong with Verlaine?
A carrier, a program, a machine, an empty shell, a weapon, not a person.
Just assume that he's acting on his own initiative.
He thought that if Verlaine would not write the new story in his book, he would do it.
He put himself and Verlaine together, snatched Verlaine's book, and wrote about their two lives in it.
Verlaine didn't care at all. He followed him and let Rimbaud paint on his life with an attitude that was almost indifferent.
Rimbaud took a lot of effort and finally taught him to smile and to desire. Verlaine could choose what he wanted to do, and even share a pudding with him. Although Verlaine always told him clearly afterwards that he didn't understand, he at least pretended to do it, and he was at least able to choose the appropriate expression according to the context.
Is that enough? They have more time.
They have more time.
——There is no more time.
So, why betray?
Rimbaud didn't understand, even when he was about to die, he didn't understand. He had a guess, but that guess was too dreamy, like a bizarre dream.
So, that's probably the faint hope. Although he was not sure whether Verlaine was alive or dead, and although he did not know why Verlaine was alive, he disappeared from the whole world. He still made his decision.
As it turned out, he still wanted to write Verlaine's own story in that book.
No benefits, no exploitation, if betrayal was Verlaine's own choice, if this was the result of Verlaine's heart's choice. Well...then let him continue to grow.
He decided to say that Verlaine was dead, to declare him dead, and to let him go free.
He decided to take care of this child who looked very much like Verlaine for the last time. Whether Verlaine was alive or dead, it seemed that Verlaine wanted him to live, right? Let him live so the story can continue. Moreover, he had a conditioned reflex. He knew too well the thoughts of this kind of people, so he could tell what the boy was thinking at a glance, and reflexively wanted to give him an answer.
So, he told the child his final instructions and gave the child the hat that he had protected tightly when he gave it to Verlaine due to his amnesia.
He had made all preparations to face his end. He could finally escape from this hell on earth that was extremely cold and traumatic.
Then--
"Wait, although I'm very touched, who wants to kill you?" Nakahara Chuuya was so anxious that he almost shouted.
Master Qingtang, he didn't hit anyone in a fatal place, okay?
Rambo looked at him blankly.
But the question is, no matter how you look at it, he's going to be dealt with.
Nakahara Chuuya took a deep breath:
"I...I don't want to kill you."
A mocking laugh came from the mouth of Dazai Osamu who was watching from the sidelines, but when he turned around, Dazai Osamu looked left and right, looking at the scenery as if it had nothing to do with him.
Veins popped out, and Nakahara Chuuya said:
"You, there are still many things you don't understand, right?"
"We are enemies. Haven't you heard that we should not show mercy to the enemy?" Rimbaud closed his eyes and sighed softly.
"The enemy is not absolute, and you no longer have most of the reasons to kill me." Nakahara Chuuya stated.
Indeed, Rimbaud's need for Arambator has become minimal now, and his past memories have been recovered. He had nothing clear left to cling to, and of course, no reason to target Nakahara Chuuya.
"Survive, I hope, I hope you can survive."
The one who brought him out of darkness, the one who freed him, the one who gave him sin and gave him life. Nakahara Chuuya had mixed feelings, but he didn't want to see Rimbaud die at all.
The ochre-haired boy looked at him, his clear eyes were like an ocean, filled with pure emotions. In a trance, Rimbaud seemed to see Verlaine.
They look very similar, but they are actually two different people.
"It's not time to die yet, it's not the end yet. If there are still things you don't understand, you have to find the answers and stay alive to solve the problems. Don't give up on yourself, bastard!"
Zhongyuan Zhongye is also a ball of fire, he will burn forever until it is burned out.
He will not give up exploring his own life. He respects his own life and the distinct existence of self-consciousness more than anyone else.
Although the child said this, Rimbaud was suddenly distracted and thought of something else.
Verlaine's betrayal was very abrupt and vague. He was used to Verlaine's cruel and empty character, and was also used to his occasional sudden whims and crazy moments. But if Verlaine had any remnant of this child's character. So is his guess true?
—Is Verlaine actively protecting this child?
What kind of emotion did he feel, and could he really understand it?
As his thoughts raced, Rimbaud suddenly laughed:
"You win."
He said, "You are the victor, what are you going to do with me?"
Then, he was sent back to the Port Mafia, and after a boring confrontation, he was imprisoned in a secret dungeon that was not guarded at all.
Because of this, Nakahara Chuuya joined the Port Mafia, and he often came to see him after that. He is now much calmer. Although his relationship with Nakahara Chuuya is not warm, they can communicate calmly and occasionally feel a kind of happiness from cultivation.
It is too difficult to cultivate Weilun, so let's start with the cultivation.
The only thing he couldn't understand was that Zhongyuan Zhong was also very keen on giving him books, and often gave him paper and pens.
He read the book and found it quite interesting. He didn't use paper and pen because he didn't like things that could leave traces. And then what?
Nakahara Chuuya asked him:
“Would you like to try writing something?”
Rimbaud was at a loss:
"Write...what?"
Nakahara Chuuya was a little embarrassed, this was his first time to preach (?), he originally wanted to use this method to deal with Rimbaud who had no memories to obtain information, but Rimbaud accidentally used up his ultimate move, he thought about it and felt that it was okay to continue, after all, as the quantity and quality of his poems gradually improved, he could really feel that his control over his supernatural powers was strengthening.
He said, "I'm writing novels, poems, and the like, and they feel pretty good. I think you can give it a try."
He did not mention the fact that writing books might be beneficial to one's supernatural powers, because this matter was a bit too shocking and should not be widely spread without evidence. This matter was a consensus and unspoken secret in their small circle.
So his behavior was very puzzling in Lan Tang's eyes.
“…”
Are you okay?
Aren't you a mafia member? Aren't you an orphan? Who taught you cultural lessons? The mafia style in Yokohama now is to master both civil and military skills?
There is absolutely no connection between people with special abilities and writers and poets!
Sengenmaku, who was far away at the shrine, hung up the phone with Dazai Osamu and sneezed for no reason.
Without thinking much, he looked at the information on the table that he had just urgently purchased from abroad.
The first two pieces of information were about Rimbaud and Verlaine, which were very vague. The existence of these two people was a secret, and he spent a lot of effort but only got such a small amount of information.
It wasn't these two people that concerned him.
[Rat in the Dead House].
His fingertips tapped the tabletop lightly, his eyes fixed on the name.
I don’t know why, but I always feel… very concerned.
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