Chapter 35 Chapter 34

I went to Taiwan again this afternoon. Not to kill, but to try to kill. As for who to try to kill, who else can I try to kill, of course try to kill the psychiatrist who listened to me nagging too much.In fact, I have tried this matter many times, but I have been in a trance and unable to succeed. It is really embarrassing and funny to say. In the beginning, I just took the opportunity to go to Taiwan on a mission to register at the private psychiatric clinic, talk to him, and learn his special speaking skills in perfunctory patients, which was regarded as a casual relief. Later, I became addicted to chatting, and even made a special trip to "see a doctor".Anyway, I will kill him anyway, so I might as well take advantage of it before killing him.But every time I walked out of the clinic inexplicably, I remembered that I had just forgotten to pull the trigger on him. It was really weird to the extreme.

"So you still want to kill me today." The psychiatrist was still gentle and refined, and poured warm scented tea for me and a cup for himself. "Do your best haha." I lay on the big sofa, playing with the two latest guns: "No matter what, you have to treat me well first, doctor, you have a saying like this Right? Be a monk for a day and beat the clock for a day." The doctor smiled and drank his tea. It seemed that he didn't put his life and death at risk, but he didn't believe that I would kill him at all. How naive. "What worries you recently?" The doctor slowly put down the teacup.

"There is also job burnout, and killing people is really getting more and more boring." "What about the progress of that music demo tape?" "I'm busy killing people, so I only recorded seven songs for the time being. I will send three songs to the record company." I don't want to talk about my rock dreams at all. In fact, I only recorded four songs and there is no progress My dream upset me: "Don't talk about it, it's none of your business anyway." The doctor smiled and changed the subject tactfully. "Still keep dreaming about your purple guitar?"

"Yeah, I still often dream about that guitar that I didn't have time to take away, but how can it be purple? Did I say that last time? No, no, no, it can't be purple, I hate purple, it is very How about a sissy color hahahahaha!" I laughed as exaggeratedly as I could. Hell did I actually say that guitar was purple last time?Or... is that guitar really purple? "Or do you want to talk about the tattoo on your chest again?" The doctor always pretended to be deeply interested. "What's there to talk about? I don't even have a memory of how it got stabbed! Anyway, it's..."

Every time I come to this private psychiatric clinic, I will comfortably talk about the absurd years on the Thai-Myanmar border. Sometimes I am happy, and I will say it in more complete and detailed terms. Sometimes I just want to kill the doctor, so I Just pick some fragmented memories at random. The main theme is unclear each time, but the subtitle is still: "robbery, murder, bars, gangs, prostitutes, and others".Speaking of that period of time, whether it is long or short, I have sex every night, and I have sex with different and the same women. I have listened to countless in the wet and hot bed, and I am not interested in it. The story of the poor woman in the bar, the psychological twists and turns of figuring out how to go on stage again and again in the bar, and those psychological twists and turns are farts.

I don't know why I keep ignoring my stealing days in Europe, and I don't like to mention the chaotic time when I first arrived in Thailand running errands for drug dealers, instead of starting from the Thai-Myanmar border. Is it because I disdain the days of being a thief?Is it because I hate drug dealing?I think not.Probably not.I don't know why I keep repeating this story of sleeping in a woman's tits, I can't get tired of it, probably every man wants to show off that he can have sex with many women. Of course, every time I end, I end up lucky that the group of prostitutes were thrown into the street and killed, so that I can leave that messy place without any burden.I was grateful every time I got to that passage, and it took a lot of effort to stop myself from clapping my hands and thanking God.

"I've pieced together this story and heard it so many times, but I have a little problem." The doctor held a lump of sugar between his fingers and slowly dipped it into the steaming black coffee. Ok?Doesn't the doctor drink tea like me... When did you pour yourself a cup of hot coffee? "About my unrecorded rock demo tape? I don't care anymore, really." Lie on the couch, I put a gun to my heart: "Real rock, here. Just here It doesn’t matter if I sing or not, as long as I know I’m a rock singer.” "Oh no, we've discussed talent and rock and roll several times." The doctor spread his hands and said with a smile: "I don't think I can convince you to pick up the microphone and sing to anyone at the scene. In this regard, I am a complete failure, and I will never charge."

"It's very self-aware, haha." "My problem is actually simpler." "Please say." I wobbled and picked up the gun, and pretended to pull the trigger on the bookcase behind the doctor: "Wh-bang!" "You are so strong, why don't you spend a little time and go back and kill those gangsters?" "Why the hell am I going to kill those gangsters, is anyone paying me? It's too late for me to thank them!" "Hearing that you always talk about yourself so badly, you must not be afraid of gangsters." "I'm afraid of gangsters! I planned to copy them all, but they took the first step." I sighed helplessly: "It's a pity, it's a pity, they killed those prostitutes, but the reason why I didn't kill them is not ?"

"So you are afraid of revenge." The doctor leaned forward slightly, playing with sugar cubes in his hands. "Revenge? There is no enmity between me and the gang!" I couldn't help but laugh. "You are very afraid of losing important things, so you have to pretend that what you lose is not important at all." The doctor pinched another sugar cube, dipped it lightly in the coffee, dipped it one by one, and finally let it sink completely. Go on: "It's really hard for you to have such an awkward personality." "What and what? Don't think that you are a psychiatrist, just want to talk about my inner world." I was very disdainful.

"You are afraid of revenge because you are afraid of hatred between you and gangsters. Why you have hatred with gangsters is because you have friendship with those prostitutes, and this is what you are most taboo. You fight I just don't want to admit that there is a relationship between you and those whores, lest you be too sad and collapse, it is really awkward to the extreme." "Is this what the textbooks of psychology teach you?" I sniffed. "In fact, everyone will be sad when they lose something important, and our sadness is also an expression of love, which means that we care about the memories brought to us by those things that have passed away. It is an emotional trace—"

"What the hell are emotional traces?" I couldn't help interrupting the doctor's nonsense. The doctor was not angry, but just threw another lump of sugar into the cup of coffee: "And you, of course you will be sad, and facing the death of many close relatives and friends is not ordinary sad, I am afraid that you are sad to the extreme, That's why I switched to another extreme way to escape it." "what?" "No, it's not just avoiding, you're totally giving up on yourself. You just lie to yourself that you don't care at all, so you completely ignore what you really feel in your heart, and you refuse to honestly examine your feelings even when you're alone. But Mr. Kim , You have always been a gentle person, but you treat your own emotional traces in such a cruel way, which is actually a different kind of punishment." "Punishment? Am I punishing myself?" I was literally dying of laughter, he was talking nonsense: "Why should I punish myself? Is it my fault that those whores are dying? Damn it I'm yelling every day that I'm leaving! Frankly speaking, in hindsight I'm so happy! I wasn't even 1% as good as I am now, if I stayed in the town stupidly that night, those gangsters wanted to get out of that bunch of whores. Copy me out and maybe it will work! Do you know how those gangsters will spoof me before handing me over to the army? Do you know what kind of lawless place the Thai-Myanmar border is like? I got away with it I!" I almost fell off the couch laughing. "Mr. Jin, have you ever wondered why you are so afraid of having an intimate relationship with others?" "Enough." My patience has reached its limit: "Who would have a relationship with a prostitute?" "In psychology, there are many psychoanalyses aimed at your fear of establishing an intimate relationship with others, but I know that even if those analyzes are correct, you still disdain them. If you disdain, those analyzes are equivalent to rubbish." Doctor With a half-smile, he said, "So how about I save the step of explaining the ingredients of the prescription and just feed you the special medicine?" "Special medicine?" I crossed my legs. "Well, Mr. Jin, in your fantasy world, you are a killer, so how much do you pay for killing someone?" The doctor squeezed another sugar cube, and gently dipped half of it in the coffee. What the hell is that coffee still drinkable?Wait a minute don't say it's for me. "What do you want to do?" I was a little uncomfortable. "I think it's better to let me hire you to help me kill those villains of the Thai-Myanmar gang. As long as you have a share in killing those prostitutes with scars, kill them all and leave none. Since I hired you, you You don't need to think of killing gangsters as revenge for whores, it's business. Money and money, how about it?" "It's true that the contract can be like this, but I'm afraid there is one thing that can't be accommodated." I sneered, and pointed the gun at the doctor: "Dead people can't place orders." "...I agree." The doctor smiled, his eyes narrowed into a line: "But a spoon can't kill a person." I froze for a moment. The doctor was right, and I pointed a spoon at him. "How is it? Is the deal done?" The doctor took out a sugar cube from the coffee and put the sugar cube back into the sugar box. This is really mysterious, is he doing magic tricks? So how does the doctor restore a dissolved sugar cube from hot coffee?Or did I really see the hell this time? "..." I put down the spoon in embarrassment, and reached for the gun. It's strange, I can't touch the double guns I was playing with just now, it seems to have disappeared out of thin air. "What? Don't you dare to take the order?" I was flabbergasted as the doctor took out flawless chunks of white sugar cubes from his hot coffee and put them back into the sugar box in very slow motion on purpose. "Where's my gun?" I was hot all over. "There are two questions. The first question is that you are a killer and I am a doctor. There should be no reason for a killer to ask a doctor to get a gun. The second question is that you are a killer and I am a doctor. You ask me to get it back. Your gun, so that you can kill me." The doctor laughed: "Do you really mean that?" I suddenly stood up and clenched my fists tightly. "Even if I don't have a gun in my hand, isn't it more than enough to turn your head off?" "If you are willing to take this order, come back to me." The doctor smiled and drank black coffee. Suddenly a burst of anger hit my heart, I strode forward, and as soon as I stretched out my hand, I twisted it—— a street lamp. In my right hand, I was holding a street lamp. Where are the street lights? I looked around and saw that this was the busiest movie district in the West District of Taipei, and I was standing among the bustling crowd preparing to watch a movie, holding on to a street lamp angrily. I put down my hand with a red face, and immediately felt the weight between my waist.My two pistols were stuck in my back as well as ever, as if they had never left. why am i here What about the sofa?Where is the doctor?What about the counter nurse?What about the psychiatric clinic? How did I get here from... that psychiatric clinic? No, how did I get here? The hands of my watch tell me it's nine thirty-seven, and I have an appointment for a three o'clock appointment today, so all this time I've just walked from the psychiatric clinic to...or ride...the bus?MRT?Or take a taxi to this movie street? Movie Street Movie Street Movie Street... Movie Street?I touched my pocket and actually took out two movie tickets from it.Both were movie tickets that had been torn open by the ticket inspectors. The admission time at the Truth, Goodness and Beauty Theater was seven o'clock sharp. The film was a 120-minute art film by a French director. two?Who do I go to see this movie with?Did I really watch the movie again?What did I do before watching the movie? I closed my eyes and tried to remember, but all I could see was darkness. Suddenly I hiccupped. The strong aroma of cheese, pickled cucumbers, and the unique smell of ground meat filled my mouth, and my tongue felt a little lettuce dregs stuck between the small incisors and canines... McDonald's Big Mac burger is unmistakable. Well, I had McDonald's for dinner today.Who the hell am I going to eat Big Mac with again? I pictured that perfunctory smile of a psychiatrist. And the picture of him constantly taking whole sugar cubes out of the still smoking black coffee. That image made me shudder. "I must kill that doctor." My tongue trembled just when I said this to myself in my heart. I'm afraid, by mistake... I've found the answer. The one that caused my total memory loss, the culprit.