Chapter 30 Section 2 Farewell

So far, everything is going according to plan.I hid in the corner where no one could see, nervously watching the only entrance to the underground parking lot - a big man who was obviously a carton factory worker just came to pick up the car, 11:42: car I looked at my watch as I pulled out of the parking lot—the hands approaching zero would only intensify the tension, and I couldn't help biting my lower lip: I don't know what's going on with old Jim. For the past half month, this enigmatic serial killer who has surrounded my life like a shadow—what kind of appearance will he appear in front of us?Is he really a gentleman-like young man in a neat tuxedo as described in the old Jim's story, or is he actually a wretched and ridiculous old man?If according to my previous reasoning, he should be an office worker who could not be more ordinary—letting such a person play the role of "Romeo the Scythe", I would feel a little disappointed in my heart: I have to say, even though I don't Willing to admit, but I'm still expecting something - that demon that Bourne worships, that Kanpur fears, that messenger from hell: he has an ordinary face that blurs in the crowd - —Would this be unacceptable?

But at this moment, all thoughts came to an abrupt halt—at the entrance and exit, the small piece of road surface that I could see was extremely cold and bright by the moonlight, and it was being swallowed up by a kind of flowing darkness quickly: that It is the shadow of a person!It came silently until it completely covered the cold and bright road that could be seen through the door. The owner of the shadow is standing at the door at this moment—through the strong contrast between the door and the not-so-tall body, I can see it, I can see it clearly: he is carrying a long handle on his back. s things!

It's him!The one I'm waiting for! My hand was on the pistol--my palm was full of sweat.While I was waiting for his next move, he actually spoke first, a voice I was familiar with: "Wenzel, how are you doing?" It's old Jim!How did he come here? I was about to come out of my hiding place, but I saw him waving his hand towards me: "Don't come out! I'll pass right away, you wait?" Old Jim came in. The breath in this dark space suddenly became less tense than before. "Old Jim, why are you here? Don't you care about that?" "It's okay! Hey, the team finally sent a young man over - they didn't consider my feelings at all! That stupid young man, I didn't have much to say to him, so I gave him the walkie-talkie."

Old Jim sat down beside me, took a small thermos from his back pocket, and unscrewed the cap: "Where is the coffee! Wenzel, I prepared it when I went out, and the temperature is just right now." He poured a small cup full and handed it to me, "Have a cup. It's still a long night, and it won't matter if you don't replenish your energy." Can't stand it." I nodded and took the cup he handed over.While drinking, he was still watching the entrance and exit of the parking lot. The coffee was very bitter, and it seemed that there was no sugar added at all—it didn't taste like the weak coffee in the police station. It spread on the tip of the tongue, and there was an elegant and very wonderful almond bitterness, which seemed to be mixed with the aroma of some wild flowers.

As I drank and drank, I was surprised to find that I gradually couldn't hold the small coffee cup anymore.I turned my face and wanted to ask old Jim what was going on, but my body was like a mollusk washed ashore, and I couldn't move. With a soft sound, the small coffee cup fell to the ground. During the few minutes I was losing consciousness, I saw old Jim calmly pick up the coffee cup, wipe it carefully with his handkerchief, and put it back in the long bag.After finishing this, he glanced at me and took out something from the long bag: That is a knife! I understood everything, but I couldn’t say anything—the scent of flowers in the coffee plundered my remaining consciousness and perception ability very quickly: I gradually couldn’t see clearly, and only heard the sound of a knife being unsheathed ——The voice was deep and transparent, and I thought for a moment that I might die soon.

Just at this moment, I vaguely heard old Jim say to me—the voice seemed to come from an infinitely distant place: "It's time for me to retire too! Thank you, Wenzel?" Finally, there is the sound of the knife being unsheathed——that sound completely shut the world into nothingness