boyutpedia Chapter 350: Reminiscing and Drinking
Chapter 350: Reminiscing and Drinking
June 2018, 6, 18: pm.
All the drinks on the table have melted.
Water droplets condensed on the wall of the cup, slid down the path and fell onto the light brown table, forming a pool of water.
Fushiguro Shier took a quick look and suddenly pulled out two pieces of paper from the tissue box hanging on the wall, threw one on the table and the other into my hand.
Seeing me looking at him in confusion, he knocked on the table and said, "To wipe your tears."
"..I'd like to state in advance that I didn't cry."
"Tsk." He took the osmanthus wine, filled another cup and drank it, then deliberately dragged out his voice to mock me, "Okay - you didn't cry, you are the strongest."
I:"........."
I folded the tissues, first wiped my slightly red eyes, then wiped the water stains on the table, and finally threw both into the trash can.
Then, let out a gentle breath.
It was not until this moment that I felt that the person in front of me, Fushiguro Shigeki, really remembered me.
My wildly fluctuating emotions slowly calmed down, I held the cup in my hand and let out a gentle breath.
From just now until now, I have said a lot to him.
Some things are coherent.
About the Night Parade of One Hundred Demons launched by Geto Suguru.
How I met him in the alley, what happened after I rescued him, and how I returned to my own world.
I talked about the advent in Shibuya.
How did the thousand-year-old curse master Nozomi plot against people's hearts, where did the Yumenjiang come from, why did Geto Suguru die, how was Gojo Satoru sealed, and... the blank piece in my memory.
Also, how I changed from Suzuki Yuri to Itadori Yushin, who was hunting me a while ago, and what was their purpose in hunting me down.
Putting aside the fact that they are characters in the comics, I have basically told you everything that can be said to Shirou Fushiguro.
Apart from those major events, there were also a lot of messy trivial matters, a hammer here and a stick there, so mixed up that even I myself can't sort them out clearly.
Moreover, a lot of the content here has nothing to do with Fushiguro Shigeki.
After all, most of the plot takes place after his death.
But I just want to say it.
Break it apart and crush it into pieces, no matter how big or small, let it all out freely.
This was the first time someone sat down and listened to me tell them exactly what had happened.
Probably because that rubbish god had already laid his cards on the table with me, he didn’t come up with any “mute” to get in the way.
Fushiguro Shiji listened patiently, occasionally responding to me, but rarely interrupting me. In fact, his memory was not complete, and he only pieced together the person "Suzuki Yuri" with fragments and memories.
But for me, it was satisfying enough. We talked for more than an hour. During this time, the night outside the glass window became darker, and the light of the street lamps sprinkled on the ground, illuminating the direction of each pedestrian going home.
Before I knew it, the wine glasses on the table were full and empty, empty and full again, and most of the osmanthus wine next to me had been drunk.
Actually, I didn't have much interest in alcohol.
As a corporate slave, I can drink quite a bit, but only at social gatherings after work. I don't drink too much, and generally speaking, I don't really like it.
But tonight is different.
The mellow osmanthus wine with a slightly spicy taste spreads in the mouth, and the taste of the wine flows into the stomach, then rushes out from the heart and seeps into every part of the body.
It is like a river of spring water after the cold winter has ended, flowing down from the mountains in all directions, penetrating into every corner of the earth, bursting with vitality.
If you're happy, drink more.
However, Fushiguro Shigeki seems to disagree with this.
He bent three fingers and put them on the mouth of my osmanthus wine bottle, picked it up and shook it twice, frowning at me: "Hey, can you do it?"
"No, don't drink it."
"I'm not drunk." I opened my eyes wide and saw my red face reflected in the glass bottle. I felt that it was not convincing, so I emphasized and repeated, "I'm really not drunk."
This sentence is true.
When I just graduated, I found my first job.
In the few days before I started working, I went to the mall and bought more than a dozen bottles of wine in one go.
Red, white, beer, fruit wine, flower wine, cocktails... I drank until I was drunk.
Fortunately, I didn't black out, and I was able to get up the next day and go to the hospital for an injection. From then on, I had a general idea of what kind of reaction I would have at any stage of drinking.
As long as you're not like Gojo Satoru who gets drunk after one drink, I'm just a little tipsy now.
If I go out and fight him right now, I may not lose.
"Tsk, that's what drunks say." This guy obviously didn't listen to my explanation. He was the one who drank the most at the beginning, and he was the one who was holding the bottle cap to stop me from drinking. "No more drinking."
"I'm really not drunk."
"You just said you really didn't cry." He said perfunctorily, placing his hand on the back of my head and gesturing, as if he was thinking of some way to knock me out and carry me away.
"Listen." He seemed to have remembered something, and suddenly threatened me with a gloomy face, "If you dare to spit on me, I will knock your head off first, and then throw your body into the river, and let it drift to Tokyo Bay for burial."
I didn't buy it at all. I just crossed my hands and supported my head, not bothering to pay attention to him.
On the contrary, the waiter who came to settle the bill heard the three words "Tokyo Bay" and it was as if some PTSD mechanism was triggered. His legs and hands began to tremble and he leaned against the corner tremblingly.
"how much is it?"
"Four thousand dollars," the waiter said cautiously, "Cash or card?"
"Cash." Fushiguro Shigeu took out his wallet from his pocket and counted the bills casually. After stuffing the banknotes into my pocket, he grabbed the back of my neck and tried to lift me up like a chicken.
"Hey!" I shook my head in dissatisfaction and began to struggle, pulling his arm hard and shouting, "What are you doing?"
"Tsk, what are you talking about?" He rolled his eyes and pulled the corners of his mouth impatiently, "Ship your dead duck back."
"I can walk by myself!" I was still thinking about the half pot of osmanthus wine that I spent 15,000 yuan to buy. I turned back reluctantly, feeling a little unsatisfied.
It was at this time that my cell phone rang very abruptly.
Each sound is louder than the last.
I picked it up, dimly opened the screen, and saw the name on the caller ID - Gojo Satoru.
I sobered up instantly.
Gojo Satoru, why is he calling me now?