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On the hill to the southeast of Candide's Market, there is a quarry still in operation.
After Lumian came out of the Breeze Ballroom, he searched for a suitable homeless man all the way, and finally came here.
At this time, it was getting late, and the lamplighters lit up the gas street lamps all over the streets and alleys one after another. In comparison, the busy quarry that had finished the day fell into darkness, and no fire could be seen.
In the above-ground part of the quarry, there are several plaster furnaces, and around them, there are many homeless people lying here and there.
Lumian condensed his energy, concentrated his attention, and observed their fortunes one by one.
Finally, he found a target that fit his needs.
It was a male homeless man leaning against a plaster stove. His shirt, trousers and jacket were all in tatters, stained dark brown by the mud, his cheeks were sunken, and he was so thin that he was almost out of shape. Almost joined together.
His eyes were half closed and his breathing was weak, giving a feeling that he might die at any moment.
And according to the fortune that Lumian observed just now, this homeless man is indeed close to the end of his life, and will pass away in the next two or three days.
He walked in front of the opponent, squatted down, took out the bottle of gas that Franka named occult smelling salts from the pervert Hedsey, unscrewed the cap, and moved towards the target's nose.
He and Franka have already distributed the "relics" of Rentas: the gun and coins worth 212 Filkin belong to him, and the rest belong to Franka.
Ah Choo! The tramp sneezed twice and opened his eyes.
He looked weakly at Lumian, who was wearing a blue worker's uniform and a dark peaked cap, and asked suspiciously, "You, who are you, you, what do you want to do?"
Lumian replied calmly: "I'm a worker passing by. I feel that you are dying. Come up to make sure."
The homeless man didn't think there was any problem with Lumian's explanation, because in the Republic of Intis, after discovering a dead body outside, no matter whether he reported it to the government department or the two major churches, he could get a certain bonus so that he could respond accordingly. Personnel promptly decontaminated or sent the body for incineration.
The bonus is not much, just like 1 Felkin, but for the lower class people, no matter how little the extra income is, it is still a surprise.
The beard on the homeless man's face trembled, as if he was trying to force a smile: "Your guess is correct, I also feel that I am dying, you should come and see it in the next two days, so as not to be robbed of the bonus."
Perhaps it was the stimulation of the occult smelling salts, or perhaps it was the topic of death that made the tramp briefly excited. His speech was no longer intermittent and his order became clear.
"Do you have any family?" Lumian, who was squatting in front of the homeless man, put away the occult smelling salts, and asked casually.
The homeless man was silent for a few seconds, then slowly shook his head: "No more, no more. If you fancy my clothes, take them away when I die."
"Your family members have passed away?" Lumian asked about it.
The beard on the homeless man's face shook with the twisting of the muscles, and the pain that could not be hidden was revealed in his voice: "Dead, they are all dead, neither of my parents lived past forty-five years old, my brother died In the war a few years ago, my sister died of illness, her child became a child laborer, hunchbacked at the age of ten, and died of exhaustion in the textile factory..."
The tramp didn't seem to be answering Lumian's question, he was closer to reminiscing about the past before he died, and he continued in a rambling manner: "I used to be a quarry worker, and they all praised me for being very strong Later, a gentleman thought that I was very hardworking and able to endure hardships. He taught me how to put detonators and blow loose stones. My salary increased, and my life began to improve. I have a wife who can also endure hardships. , had three lovely children, but in the end only one survived, that is my little angel, my daughter.” In the year when everyone protested against food prices, my body suddenly collapsed and I fell seriously ill.
"My wife and my
Daughter spent a lot of money and owed a lot of debt and finally healed me, but I also lost my job, we were forced by loan sharks every day, my little angel was forcibly taken away by them, me and I His wife looked for her like crazy, and after a few weeks, we saw her dead body. She couldn't bear the torture of those men and ended her own life.
"My wife wanted to go to the police, but she was beaten to death by them. I don't know where she was thrown. I was also beaten into a coma, but I didn't die. I have survived to this day..."
After listening quietly, Lumi asked in a low voice, "What wish do you have?"
The tramp laughed "haha": "Wish?
"My biggest wish is that when I got the disease, I could die within a few days."
The homeless man said with a vague look in his eyes: "Those loan sharks were killed by other gangsters, and now there are other groups of loan sharks."
He finally remembered Lumian's question just now, and said in a erratic voice: "If I die later, I think, I want to eat another meatloaf, I remember that every weekend in those years, my wife would buy it by herself Meat, with flaxseed and vinegar, made into a pate, sandwiched in bread, my daughter loves it, and I like it too."
Lumian nodded, stood up, and walked towards the street below the hill.
About three quarters of an hour passed, and he returned to the gypsum stove with a Rouen patty exuding a strong fragrance.
The tramp seemed to be comatose again, and Lumian used occult smelling salts to wake him up again.
The tramp sneezed a few times, took the Rouen meatloaf with straight eyes, and quickly gnawed on it, his beard was stained with oil. After eating a little and a half, he panted and asked with a smile, "Young man, what exactly do you want to do?"
"I'll give you a knife later, it may cause you to die tonight." Lumian said bluntly.
The homeless man laughed and asked weakly, "Aren't you afraid of the police?
"I'm not afraid of death. I should have died a long time ago. Do you know? Every winter, I sleep in the plaster furnace here. It has been running for a day, and there is still a comfortable warmth that will last until the sun is about to rise. time, but the remaining gas in it is poisonous, and it may make me die in my dream, and I have not waited until now."
Lumian smiled: "I don't think those policemen would care how a homeless man died, as long as it wasn't obviously murdered."
The tramp didn't speak anymore, he ate up all the remaining Rouen patties and belched.
After more than ten seconds, he adjusted his sitting posture and said, "You can start."
Lumian took out the corrupted quicksilver with strange patterns and layers, and stabbed the homeless man with it on the back of his hand. A little blood spilled out, staining the tip of the knife red.
At the same time, Lumian saw the mercury-colored illusory river again. His purpose of looking for a dying homeless man is to exchange for a more practical fate.
This is not to say that the fate of "meeting the ghost of Montsouris" is not powerful, on the contrary, it can achieve the effect of death or even death on many human beings, and it is very persistent. But the problem is that it takes a long time for it to work-the exchange of fate can often be completed within a few minutes, but when the Montsouris ghost will find the target is purely random. It may launch an attack in ten or twenty minutes, and it may have to wait three or four months.
In other words, the fate of "meeting the ghost of Montsouris" is not suitable for raids or encounters.
Moreover, with the experience and lessons brought about by Maggot's death, Roger, the target of Lumian's hunting this time, "Black Scorpion" Roger must be wary of similar things. Once he is stabbed by "Fallen Mercury", he will not directly If he dies, he will most likely ask for help from "Mrs. Moon". Lumian is not sure if the lady with real divinity can prevent the ghost of Montsouri. If he can, then his operation has completely failed.
Based on this consideration, he intends to exchange the fate of "encountering the ghost of Montsouris" in advance, and choose a fate that is more effective in raids and assassinations, in order to make Roger the "Black Scorpion" die suddenly on the spot. help...
While thinking about it, Lumian "saw" one picture after another: that was the homeless man sleeping in the plaster furnace, that was the homeless man who was beaten into a coma, that was the homeless man who had just fainted recently, That is the homeless man kneeling in front of his daughter's dead body with a complete mental breakdown, that is the homeless man sharing homemade meatloaf with his wife and daughter, that is the homeless man who carefully measures and checks the final explosives placed...
Lumian did not try to provoke the fate of the homeless man who was destined to die within two or three days. It was too heavy and could not be moved by "Fallen Mercury". .
The only way Lumian can think of is to use the "replacement technique" to replace the vagabond with a condemned prisoner, and live as him for a period of time until he is recognized by the people around him. The death of the homeless, but it takes two or three weeks or even longer to prepare, and it is simply too late.
Lumi'an, who is considered to have a lot of experience, made a little judgment and chose the fate of the homeless man who recently fainted due to physical collapse.
It broke away from the long river of mercury, condensed into a drop of liquid, and penetrated into the blade of "Fallen Mercury". In contrast, the fate of "meeting the ghost of Montsouris" was transferred to the tramp at the very beginning.
Lumian took back the silver-black evil dagger, which was clean and not stained with any blood, and the wound on the back of the tramp's hand was very shallow, as if it would scab over in a short time.
"That's it?" the homeless man asked suspiciously. He was ready to be killed on the spot.
"Yes." Lumian stood up and left the hill.
In the middle of the night, the homeless man who had shrunk into the plaster furnace suddenly convulsed a few times and died of suffocation.
Across from 126 Market Ave.
Lumian, who came back here, leaned against the shadow of a street lamp without gas, and looked at the target building. Beside him, Franke in a black robe and hood came out of the darkness.
"How is it?" Lumian asked, not surprised at all.