[BL, MTL] Wine and Gun

Chapter 125: Aesthetic Victory (1)

Christmas Eve is still a snowy night, the wind blows snowflakes across the white Baroque dome of the Church of Our Lady of the Rosary, falling like burnt ash in the night.

Herstal Amarette drove around the Do Not Enter under Construction sign at the main entrance of the church and parked the stolen car in the dark shadow of the side wall of the church. Baroque churches do not have the long windows of stained glass like Gothic churches. This church has tall and small windows, which are opened under the high dome of the building, but a dazzling light can still be seen through them.

Apparently there were people in the church now. Herstal looked down at the time on the car: it was not yet midnight, Christ had not yet been born, and the church bells had not yet rang-but the time they agreed upon was approaching. Herstal got out of the car at this time, and stepped on the thick snow with his first foot. These cold and ruthless crystals creaked under his feet, like the sound of bones breaking when they were dying.

He stood in the wind and snow and looked at the church not far away, the black lacquered cross standing under the night, the wind was as cold and sharp as a knife, and the snow particles scraped painfully across his skin.

-At this moment, the side door of the church was pushed open.

The centuries-old wooden door in disrepair was slowly pushed open, and there was a sharp creaking sound when it was pulled. Thousands of rays of light poured out from the door, illuminating a vast expanse of white snow. Herstal saw Albarino Bacchus standing in the doorway, behind him so brightly lit that the light seemed so thick that it seemed like wings resting on his shoulders.

In the backlight, the opponent was just a thin black silhouette. Herstal couldn't see Albarino's face clearly, but guessed that there should be a smile on the opponent's face at this moment. Albarino has always been like this. When he asked himself to meet in this church, Herstal probably thought about what would happen. Since this person has always regarded the world as his playground, then this church should be carefully planned by him. stage.

So he walked towards Albarino, trudging through the thick snow on the ground, and finally being able to see him clearly after getting closer--Albarino was wearing a formal suit, but in fact, before that, He Starr had never seen him in formal attire when he was a witness at Albarino's trial-a dark blue single-breasted suit, a gray-blue satin tie with dark stripes and a tie of the same color, a silk-wrapped hem. A sprig of snow-white spirea is stuck in the flower eye of the lapel collar.

And most importantly...

"You dyed your hair blonde?" Herstal frowned slightly.

At this moment he was standing in front of the side door of the church, and Albarino was standing on the first step, a little higher than him. A halo of holiness, this hair color seems to make Albarino's eyes greener, that kind of transparent green is simply inhuman.

Hearing this, Albarino smiled lightly, and was not in a hurry to answer this question. He slightly leaned over and kissed the corner of Herstal's mouth. It was a careless but familiar kiss.

"You just wanted to ask this the first time you saw me?" Albarino said in a slightly brisk tone.

His lips were still warm and soft, and his skin smelled of blood mixed with a faint floral scent. With these details Herstal could guess a little of what he would see when he stepped into the church, it was a vague premonition. Albarino took his wrist, his fingers tangled in the cuff of his suit.

Herstal was wearing an old jacket that he found in the safe house closet, soft enough to move about and unobtrusive to blend in with the crowd: he had spent a long time renting it in the city of Westerland. Several different apartments, with enough cash, a change of clothes, different knives, and even bleach for cleaning blood stains in the room.