LRAB Page 165
Page 165
"Hmm? I smell fresh short ribs. You brought me a gift." Hannibal looked up, a near-perfect smile playing on his lips.
That kind of gentle smile that can put people at ease.
"Your nose is still so sensitive. Will said he came to see you this afternoon?" The girl changed into a pair of slippers, picked up a bag of groceries, and headed towards the refrigerator in the kitchen.
"Is Will asking you again who my favorite patient is?" Hannibal put down his knife upon hearing this, the silver handle gleaming coldly under the light.
"Yes, he contacts me often, maybe he likes me."
The girl stared at the drinks in the refrigerator as if she were searching for something.
A cool breeze, like a thin mist, swept across her cheek. The LED light from the refrigerator illuminated her profile—young, refined, and brimming with vitality.
"Keep your distance from him."
Hannibal walked in from outside and, behind the girl, drew a narrow-bladed boning knife from the rack. The blade twirled between his fingers like a silver snake.
“The best short ribs can’t be stored in the refrigerator. Let’s have an extra meal tonight.” With that, Hannibal took out his knife and walked toward the girl who had her back to him.
His leather shoes stepped on the floor without making a sound.
"You still love eating meat so much."
The girl didn't turn around, but just sighed. Her finger stopped on a shelf in the refrigerator, and she spoke with a very relaxed tone, as if she were talking about the weather.
“Some patients advised me to eat more vegetables today, but I think protein intake is very important,” Hannibal replied softly from behind the girl.
The girl still didn't turn around.
She simply took a piece of beef wrapped in brown paper from her shopping bag and handed it behind her back.
"I need it fully cooked."
The girl even made a request.
Hear the words.
Hannibal chuckled softly.
He took the beef, running his fingertips along the grain of the meat as if caressing a work of art. Then, the man walked to the cutting board, the blade lightly slicing across the wrapping paper.
A faint tearing sound came from the cutting board.
“Normally, I wouldn’t satisfy such a disrespectful request for top-quality ingredients.” Hannibal’s tone was tinged with helplessness as he began to process the ingredients the girl had handed him.
"But what can I do? You're my sister."
The man's tone was filled with doting affection.
“If you really love me, then you should transfer Will to me. His situation is too special.” The girl seized the opportunity to make her request, looking at Hannibal with pleading eyes.
obviously.
This girl is also a psychology expert.
“Will is dangerous, and I need you to stay away from danger.” Hannibal’s hand paused for a moment, the knife tip hovering above the beef, as he firmly refused his sister.
"The death of a wife and children can indeed make a person's mental state very unstable, but what we psychologists do is help them regain their peace."
The girl remained noncommittal about her assessment of Hannibal.
She still holds firm to her beliefs.
“Will is different.”
Hannibal bent down to process the ingredients, the blade falling again, precisely cutting the meat into chunks. The cutting board made a rhythmic tapping sound as the meat was divided into perfect sizes.
The force of each cut was so precise it was outrageous.
“Brother, you should really be a butcher.” The girl walked up to Hannibal while drinking orange juice, first sighing, then asking curiously.
"How is Will different from your other patients?"
She was still trying to find out more about the patient's condition.
"Several times recently, I've smelled blood on him..."
Hannibal stopped what he was doing and looked out the window.
Before I knew it, it had started to drizzle outside.
Raindrops meandered down the glass window like transparent snakes.
"That's definitely not the smell of blood that animals should have."
His voice trailed off, like a stone falling into the deep sea. The girl silently finished the last sip of orange juice, the glass making a soft clatter as it rested on the table.
"Oops."
The girl gasped in surprise.
"You be careful."
Hannibal quickly bandaged his sister's wound.
outside the house.
The sound of rain grew louder.
On the brightly lit streets.
The neon lights blurred into indistinct patches of color in the rain. A man in a black raincoat stood at the alley entrance, raindrops dripping from the brim of his hat and forming small puddles on the ground.
"This is money."
The man's voice was hoarse.
It was as if they hadn't spoken in a long time.
A few thugs handed him a black leather suitcase, which he took with one hand, keeping his other hand in his pocket the whole time.
"Next time, at the same time, don't make me come looking for you." The man didn't open it immediately, but simply weighed it lightly in his hand, then nodded and turned to leave.
He walked to his car parked by the roadside, opened the door, and tossed the suitcase onto the passenger seat. The lid popped open slightly, revealing a glimpse of what was inside.
It was a very fresh head.
"In the afternoon, the boy realized something was wrong with me—he needed to die, but I don't eat boys, so I have to find a way to dispose of his body," the man muttered with a ferocious expression as he drove.
He seemed to be talking to himself.
It was as if he was talking to someone who only existed in his imagination.
Will Graham
In the passenger seat.
The nameplate on the clothing was illuminated by the headlights of passing cars.
It gleamed with a metallic sheen.
Very conspicuous.
perhaps.
Good people can turn bad.
Even bad people can turn good.
To complete such a story.
All that's needed is for fate to gently pluck a string.
……
Rainwater slid down the eaves.
The roof of the Kent's house had already been repaired.
It won't leak.
After being completely drained of information, Ian was eventually sent back to his dorm by his ruthless father.
"The Justice League is assembling, but I'm not in it. It's so painful." The moment the door closed, he collapsed onto the bed like a fish washed ashore, the spring mattress groaning under the weight.
Madison was thrown under the bed by Ian.
She really shouldn't be sleeping in the bed.
“When I wake up, I need to think things through. The Justice League can’t do without me, just like… well, it can’t do without Jerusalem.” Ian glanced at the alarm clock on his desk.
His timing is always spot on.
His update schedule is more accurate than some struggling authors.
This is not.
I had only been back in my room for a short while.
The minute and hour hands had already aligned on the mark where one should absolutely not be awake. The next moment, Ian fell straight back onto the pillow like a robot that had been unplugged.
The moment you close your eyes.
A new world was already unfolding before his eyes.
"Oh, guests have arrived so early?"
A hearty laugh rang out, and Ian found himself in a restaurant. The shimmering gold light reflected from the crystal chandeliers made him momentarily disoriented.
"What place are you doing here, buddy?"
Ian found himself sitting at an intricately carved walnut dining table, the deep red velvet chairs as soft as giant hands. A strange aroma of rosemary and sea salt filled the air.
"It's the Odin's Son Restaurant."
The cheerful male voice rang out again.
Ian looked up.
I saw.
A bearded man wearing an oil-stained apron is banging a cast iron pot with a pitchfork.
"Want to know about a giant octopus that was just transported from Asgard to Earth and is still lively?" The man's belly was as round as an over-fermented loaf of bread, and there were a few suspicious scales between his golden-red beard.
He is.
Thor.