I felt like I shot my lover in the head

two

Until the sun shines through the curtains in front of my eyes, I realize that I have had a dream all night.

This night, I woke up in a daze, drunk and drunk, several times I thought I was sober, but now I realized that I was not sober, my mind was just a mess.

Now my head is also dizzy, and my body is even more lazy and doesn't want to move.

I dreamed that I was squatting in a huge clock tower, the kind where one wall of the top floor is a clock face facing outwards, and this floor is full of large and small metal frames, gears, and belts.The sunlight can only penetrate through the small window in the middle of the circular vault and a few pieces of broken glass, and then it is cut to pieces by the bones of these times.

I hold a fistful in my hand.

I swear I never held a gun.

Although I have to mention my awesome second uncle who works in the police station, what I haven't mentioned is that he is actually in charge of anti-pornography.Not to mention guns, the gun I've seen the most is my own.

And the bell tower.As for my fear of heights, when I was the most dedicated, I went up to the 38th floor to secretly photograph a man and a woman having an affair on the opposite floor. I used high-powered binoculars and curtains, and never looked down.

Not to mention squatting on the top floor of the clock tower to get a sniper nod.

Of course, although it is ruined, this shape is still extremely handsome.

I started by leaning my back against the wall, holding my breath and waiting.Listening to the sound of the clock, I counted the heartbeats in my mouth, one, two, three, four, the monk came out of the temple, five, six, seven, eight, the trumpet blossomed.Then I got down on the ground and put my eyes in front of the scope.

Rainy weather, very dark picture background.On a short stone bridge, small vendors were selling their business, and several pedestrians passed by, but my eyes never left a middle-aged man with a briefcase on the bridge.

Hold your breath and concentrate, put your finger on the trigger, three two one, call it a day.

Gunshots and screams immediately resounded through the streets of Shanghai.

The patrol police were dispatched quickly, and sirens, cries, screams, and cursing formed a distinctive symphony.

Here, money, interests, intelligence, grievances and grievances form another layer of blood vessel network in this luxurious world. Countless gray figures shuttle through the streets and alleys and the underground world. die.

I know it's 1942.

I'm a military agent.

To be precise, I am a scavenger.

A person who couldn't see clearly asked me: "What are your plans for the next step?"

I looked at Master's dead body and shook my head. The Japanese raided this small village, burning, killing, and looting.The seriously ill Master still had a high fever and was powerless to resist.His body was piled up in a deep pit with so many villagers.With the last sliver of hope, I dragged him out with a lot of strength, and then found that there were several bayonet wounds on his body besides the several bullet holes, which penetrated the internal organs.

He couldn't die any more.

What's my next move?

Master pulled me out from the pile of dead people when I was a gangster.According to Master, after pulling me out, I couldn’t even eat, I had to force-fed the water, and the high fever persisted for three days. Master almost threw me back into the pile of dead people, so my whole family could bury it.Unexpectedly, my fate was hard, and I finally survived.At the age of seven or eight, he learned art from his master, wandered around with a troupe, and occasionally assassinated Japanese officials.Master and the Japanese have a deep hatred, and it is said that my teacher's wife, whom I have never met, was ruined by the Japanese.These years, I don't know anything else, but I can barely pretend to sing a few lines in opera, and this unique assassination skill, my master and apprentice have become famous because of this, and they are famous all over North China.The Japanese were afraid and guarded my master and apprentice strictly. My master was injured on the way out of the encirclement with me. I had no choice but to go to Nomura to recuperate.

When I went up the mountain to collect herbs, I didn't want to escape.

Mr. Dai asked me where I was going. I couldn't read a single word, and I didn't even know a thing about revolution.

Hearing what I said, the man said: "I know you are a good knife, and now I am using your plan. From now on, you just follow my orders, and you will kill whoever I tell you to kill."

I asked, "What if I don't listen to you?"

He smiled: "Then I will kill you."

I shrugged: "Is that still killing the Japanese?"

He said, "Of course."

I said, "Sir, don't worry. From now on, I will kill whoever you ask me to kill. I dare not hit things when I point at them, and I dare not catch chickens when I kill dogs."

He said: "Less talkative, more work."

So I appeared on the streets of Shanghai.

Today's mission target is this middle-aged man.

As for why he was killed, I only heard my husband mention that it was an undercover agent in the military command, and he wanted me to finish it before he passed on the information.

It's better to come early than to come early. The scope passed seven or eight pedestrians, four or five hawkers, two or three children playing and playing, and a teacher in a dark blue cotton gown was carrying a fish.

When the work was over, a bridge pillar collapsed, and the man's body was pushed out of the bridge by the force of the sniper bullets, almost falling into the river.

The teacher grabbed the dead body and looked towards the clock tower with the fish.

All I left him was a broken window and a dead clock.

The sound of the clock ticking was very loud.

I endured it for a long time.

I've been down all day today.

I had a dream, feeling my body was being hollowed out.

All the scenes in the dream turned over and over in my mind.

blood.

gun.

Dark blue cotton gown.

dead fish.

dead.

dead.dead.dead.

I don't want to eat, I don't want to drink water, I don't want to go to the bathroom.

The voice recorder was turned off last night.Originally, I just wanted to have some entertainment, but I didn't expect that there was nothing to do with spring, and instead, the country's hatred and family hatred smashed my head.

It's too realistic, too painful, as if experiencing it personally, and like watching a play through a window screen. This slightest bit of haziness is the most disturbing and uncomfortable.

I'm a private eye by curiosity by trade.

This is killing me.

Received the courier today.

A pile of manuscripts.

Spy novels.

Quite interesting.

The courier is even more interesting. Do you think that if you wear a hat and a mask, I won’t be able to recognize that you’re the idiot who went to the wrong door yesterday?

I suspect I'm caught in a conspiracy.

I may be caught up in a nefarious plan for a holographic simulation experiment.

Or be hypnotized.

But the psychiatrist next door firmly denied the possibility of me being hypnotized.

Is he reliable?

He doesn't even have many patients!

How did it get dark so fast?

This day actually passed in my daze.