Extrajudicial fanatic just wants to be a tool man

Song Jianyu turned around naturally, and walked towards the distant kitchen with bare feet and silently.

The person who opened the door of the refrigerator looked at the translucent black garbage bags piled up everywhere in the refrigerator, and closed one of the bags with half a human head exposed without changing his expression. old man.

The boy with the bag closed took out a few green peppers and beans stuffed in the corner with force, and put them on the cooking table.

"Snapped!"

The refrigerator door was closed again.

Song Jianyu stood in front of the sink, first washed off the blood stains on his fingers from touching the head just now, and then cleaned the few pieces of food that were taken out little by little.

He found a pocket with half a bag of rice in the cabinet under the kitchen, opened the rice cooker in the corner, cleaned the rice, added appropriate amount of water, wiped the edges, put it in the rice cooker and pressed the cooking button.

The person standing in front of the cooking table again picked up the kitchen knife that had been killed before, and wiped off the dried blood on it bit by bit.

Three dishes and one soup are ready for half an hour, and the soup in the pot can be drunk after only two minutes of cooking.

Song Jianyu looked at the rice that still needed two minutes to cook, opened the medicine bottle in his hand, and dropped the white sugar-coated blood pressure medicine into the carrot and corn puree.

He would like to thank Wen Li, if he hadn't locked himself in the operating room day after day, when he couldn't untie the iron chain with a needle, and turned around to learn from the police to identify what the medicines in his cabinet were, I'm afraid he would It is not known that the original blood pressure lowering drugs have this effect.

As soon as 2 minutes came, Song Jianyu turned off the fire, filled the soup and brought it into the living room. The huge white spoon made clinking sounds in the porcelain bowl.

Song Jianyu walked all the way to the sofa and coffee table in the living room, and put the bowl of soup in the center of the large coffee table.

He straightened up and went back to the kitchen to bring over the other dishes.

The last thing is two empty bowls and a rice cooker that has just cooked rice.

Song Jianyu packed the rice, sat on the ground with chopsticks, and looked at the TV that was still playing over there while eating.

The report about Song Zongming just now has ended, and what is playing now is a cartoon of playing football.

As soon as Wen Yan took a bite of potatoes, he hit Song Jianyu's head with his chopsticks, "Salt! Why is there no salt in the dish!"

The young man with his job bowl in his arms looked at the 863 murderer in front of him with a calm face, and said calmly, "There is no salt in the kitchen, only in the soup."

Before he cooks, he lets all the salt wash down the drain.

None of the three dishes on the coffee table tasted salty, and the only thing that tasted salty was the bowl of carrot and corn soup.

"If you don't have salt, you don't know how to think of a way. An idiot has to be taught to you before he can do anything."

Wen Yan was cursing and talking, while picking up the soup bowl and pouring it into the rice, and then pouring the few unsalted vegetables into the bowl, mixing them together, and eating them in big mouthfuls.

"Ma De, the old man bought such a big house with this kind of rotten salt and rotten vegetables, all of which are so astringent and unpalatable to death."

He was cursing Song Jianyu and listening the whole time, the chopsticks didn't stick into the bowl of soup once.

Sitting cross-legged on the ground alone, he ate the whole bowl of rice silently while holding the rice bowl.

Wen Yan drank most of the bowl of soup by himself, ate two and a half bowls of rice, and almost finished all the dishes on the table.

Song Jianyu folded the bowls and chopsticks together and carried them to the kitchen to clean them, and then took out the ax he found from the corner locker when he was looking for rice.

In front of the pool, he wiped the edge of the ax blade vigorously with a steel wool ball over and over again. The ax, which had been left in the locker for an unknown amount of time, regained its sharpness in his hands.

The well-fed man in the living room was lying there with his eyes squinted and his legs crossed, watching sitcoms and stories from the editorial department.

Song Jianyu stood in the distance holding the ax until the end of No. 12 episode on the TV and entered the commercial time.

The man on the sofa had unconsciously closed his eyes, lying there drowsy.

The effect of the medicine is taking effect from his body little by little.

Song Jianyu didn't take the risk of rushing up, but squatted a few meters away and watched the sleeping face silently.

He turned up the volume on the TV a lot, but the person on the sofa still didn't wake up.

The boy, who was stepping on the thick carpet with bare feet, held the ax tightly and walked towards the corner of the sofa.

When the first ax fell and hit Wenyan's right calf, the man sleeping on the sofa suddenly woke up from the pain in his sleep.

His blood-red eyes looked at Agou who was holding an axe.

Song Jianyu calmly met those furious eyes, and cut off the other ankle without hesitation.

The sound of the ax hitting the ankle bone didn't sound too unbearable to continue.

It's just that the ax is stuck in the extremely hard bone, and it's hard to get it back.

Song Jianyu stepped on Wen Yan's calf with one foot, and forced the ax stuck in the bone with both hands.

As soon as the ax left, Wen Yan hugged his two crippled feet and rolled and howled vigorously on the sofa. The piercing pain made him no longer able to make a high face about it.

Song Jianyu walked to the TV not far away, and continued to adjust the sound to the loudest bit by bit.

In the huge living room, the background sound of the newly aired cartoon Yixiu was everywhere, and the young man's voice was brisk without suffering.

"Ah... ah... Namo Amitabha."

"What a fool, what a fool..."

The boy who returned to the sofa waved the ax in his hand with cold eyes.

"I don't mind, I don't mind."

"Even if you don't know, you will be severely punished."

"I'm so confused, Yixiu."

The splattered blood fell on Song Jianyu's face, and the young man holding the ax looked at Wen Yan who was lying on the ground from above, raised the corner of his mouth slightly and smiled, "It turns out that your blood is also hot."

Wen Yan was limp on the ground, panting and struggling to get up, to stay away from here.

Next to my ear was the TV, which continued to play the young man's singing.

"Ah... ah... Namo Amitabha."

"What a fool, what a fool."

Song Jianyu held the ax and looked at the man with broken limbs on the ground, bent down and picked up the scissors under the coffee table beside him.

"Let me go, son, let me go... Dad knows it's wrong, dad really knows it's wrong."

Wen Yan has never regretted it like this in his life. If he knew that this brat wanted to kill him today, no matter what he said, he would kill him first and kill the crisis in the cradle.

Song Jianyu strode up to him, pushed him to the ground, and looked at those eyes full of fear and despair, only thinking it was ridiculous.

When the scissors were stretched in, the boy in front of him murmured, "It turns out that you are also afraid."

On the TV with large colorful squares, the cartoon with a wise little monk finally came to an end.

"I'm so confused, Yixiu."

"Like like like like like like, love you."

"Like like like like like like, take a break, take a break."

Song Jianyu let go of the scissors in his hand, walked to the side sofa and sat down to rest.

Wen Yan on the ground was about to turn into a blood man. The man whose hands and feet had been chopped off by an ax fell on his back and stared at the void with his eyes wide open.

A person with a broken tongue can only make a grunt for help from his throat.

But the only teenager present who could hear his cry for help sat there, picked up the cigarette on the coffee table, lit it, and looked at the muddy person on the ground.

"Wen Yan, do you know what it's like to be expected to die by everyone?"

Wen Yan couldn't answer him.

Song Jianyu didn't need him to answer this question.

"From now on... everything is over."

He can't save other people, but at least from now on, there will be no such murderer as Wen Yan in this world.

The boy with his eyes closed on the armchair thought maybe this was the last thing he could do.

Closing his eyes again, no one knows who he will become when he opens them again...

The boy on the chair fell asleep in that position.

Thirteen minutes later, Wen Li opened his eyes and looked at the crystal lamp on the ceiling. After a few seconds, he stood up and walked to the bloody man on the ground whose life and death were unknown.

The young man squatting in front of Wen Yan looked at the people on the ground seriously with his chin resting on his hands. After thinking for a long time, he went to open the door connecting the living room to the outside world, and walked out covered in blood...

"The Shikumen station ahead is here."

Song Jianyu opened his eyes and saw clearly that the bus in front of him was stopping at a bus stop.

He looked down at the backpack on his lap, the backpack he used to use in college.

The young man stood up from the stool, carried his backpack and walked down the bus stop.

As soon as it landed on the ground, it rained in the sky, and the passers-by with umbrellas left here.

Song Jianyu stood on the spot alone, looking at the constant raindrops above.

"You don't have an umbrella either."

Qin Shiguan stood by his side, looking at Song Jianyu's face that was exactly the same as the real murderer in 863 from the corner of his eye and asked.

Song Jianyu turned his head, glanced at the young man standing beside him, and calmly looked at him from top to bottom, "What's the date today?"

"27?" Qin Shiguan looked suspiciously at the person in front of him.

"What year?" Song Jianyu asked.

Qin Shiguan frowned, "December 2021, 12?"

"Thank you."

After Song Jianyu finished speaking, he walked into the heavy rain, and walked alone to the Shikumen Prison not far away.

Behind him, Qin Shiguan looked at his back, his whole being lost in a daze.

As soon as he was transferred back to Jinjiang City, he saw a face at the bus stop that he would never forget after 24 years. After he followed him on the bus, he found that the destination of this bus was Shi Kumen Prison.

Song Zongming's prison is here where the 863 serial murderer was imprisoned.

At the gate of Shikumen Prison, Song Jianyu found his wallet and proof from his backpack, and submitted an application to see Song Zongming.

Half an hour later, the young man sitting in the visiting room held the black backpack in his arms and looked at Song Zongming who appeared on the other side of the glass.

"you are?"

Song Zongming came here under the supervision of the prison guards. Before he sat down, he was attracted by the young man with the same face as he used to outside the glass window. He was so nervous that he stuck to the glass, looking at him in disbelief. Looking at that face, "Who are you? How come you look so much like me before?"

"Because I am your son, my name is Song Jianyu."