The person outside the door is Jichelle.
The female pastry chef was holding a bag of food and a newspaper between them. After seeing Jason open the door, her face was already flushed with cold, and she immediately smiled.
"Morning, Jason."
"Your breakfast."
"And newspapers."
The female pastry chef handed Jason the food and the newspaper as she spoke.
Jason took it, took off his coat, and put it on the female pastry chef in a way that covered his head. After fastening the buttons, the female pastry chef only showed a pair of eyes and a missing half nose, looking weird .
However, the female pastry chef did not refuse.
She looked at Jason who was close at hand, her face became redder and redder, and she clutched Jason's coat tightly, wishing to cover her face.
Huh
It didn't look like Jason's coat.
The color and style are similar, but the material is much better.
Immediately, the female pastry chef guessed something.
Once again, anger and killing intent rose from the bottom of my heart.
A voice told her to kill the other party.
However, she was overwhelmed by the female pastry chef.
In this regard, she only thinks it is normal jealousy.
What's more, it's because I didn't have a good rest.
If I had known earlier, I should have waited for Jason here.
With such annoyance, the female pastry chef glared at Hannibal viciously, who responded with a smile, then turned around and took out a coat and put it on Jason.
"It's cold, wear mine."
Saying that, Hannibal smiled again at the female pastry chef.
The female pastry chef was blown away.
kill him!
kill him!
How dare you steal my man!
The voice in my heart roared again!
The female pastry chef was also infected by this boiling killing intent at the beginning, but when she shouted "my man" from the bottom of her heart, the female pastry chef blushed again, and she stood there and began to sway.
"What's wrong?"
Jason asked in surprise.
"No, nothing."
"Where are you going, Jason?"
"Let's go together."
The shy female pastry chef shook her head again and again, unable to speak fluently, she immediately changed the subject.
Jason thought for a moment, and finally nodded.
There is no other meaning, just for the food in his hands before and now, as a thank you, it is necessary for him to protect the safety of the female pastry chef.
After waving at Griffin in the far corner, Jason led the female pastry chef onto the roadside carriage.
The food in his hand made him temporarily slow down the idea of patrolling Xinde City on foot.
After all, eating against the wind is not good for the stomach.
As for breakfast already eaten
Well, I ate it.
But from the dining table to the door, it has been digested.
Snapped!
"drive!"
The coachman flicked the reins, and the carriage started slowly.
After Griffin watched the public carriage leave, he walked straight towards the 'Hannibal Clinic'. At this time, Hannibal did not return to the room, but also watched Jason and the female pastry chef take the carriage away.
Seeing Griffin approaching, Hannibal smiled politely, but did not move.
He wasn't used to having people in his room other than Jason.
Patients are the exception.
But also confined to the living room.
The Griffin in front of him was an acquaintance, but definitely not to the level of Jason.
After all, there is only one Jason.
And the guy in front of him
There are countless of them on the street.
"Can we talk?"
Griffin lowered his voice.
"7 yuan per hour, more than 45 minutes, count as the second hour."
Hannibal said with a smile.
Griffin blinked, a little unresponsive.
"I mean talk."
Griffin emphasized.
"Yes, let's talk."
"7 yuan per hour, more than 45 minutes, count as the second hour."
"I'm a psychiatrist, this is the public price."
Hannibal smiled unchanged.
Griffin began to breathe quickly, and he wanted to punch this smiling face, but thinking of the things in his heart, he finally held back, gritted his teeth, and said, "Okay, let's talk for 5 minutes first. "
With that said, Griffin was about to squeeze Hannibal away and walk into the house.
but…
Not squeezed out.
Hannibal's strong figure stood motionless, while Griffin staggered backward from the collision.
Facing Griffin's astonished and puzzled expression, Hannibal continued to smile.
"At least an hour from now."
said the psychiatrist.
"One hour?!"
"You profiteer!"
"I... wait, an hour is an hour!"
Griffin couldn't hold it back any longer and started yelling loudly, but when he saw Hannibal was about to close the door, he immediately gave in.
Hannibal stuck his hand through the crack in the door.
"What's the meaning?"
Griffin was taken aback.
"Pay first."
Hannibal said.
"Are you not trusting me and worrying about my repudiation?"
Griffin roared loudly as if he had suffered a great humiliation.
"yes."
Hannibal nodded.
"you!"
Griffin wanted to say something more, but Hannibal was about to close the door again.
This forced Griffin to take out the last money from his socks and handed it to Hannibal.
Hannibal didn't answer, frowning as he stepped out of the way.
"Put your money in the water bowl at the door."
Hannibal said so.
"It's just out of the stocking, not through the plague!"
Griffin looked at the water bowl on the cabinet by the door, and there were several coins in it. It was a pretty good memory. It reminded him of the way the shops on 'Fishbone Street' handled coins during the plague period: put a bowl filled with water bowls on the counter.
It is believed that this can effectively drive away the plague.
Griffin didn't know if it would work or not.
However, the number of people who died in his memory did not decrease much.
Similarly, the money in the bowl is often lost.
"A reason."
Hannibal said calmly.
Griffin didn't argue any more.
He threw the money in the bowl, and then, at Hannibal's gesture, sat down in the chair in the hall.
Hannibal glanced at the clock hanging on the side, and after clearly noting the time, he said, "It's time to start."
"Are you safe here?"
"I mean a more special attack."
Griffin raised his right hand and slid five fingers back and forth, as if drawing an octopus.
"It is safer than most places in Xinde City."
Hannibal said with certainty.
This is not nonsense, but the truth.
His house has been specially modified to be quite resistant to various attacks, including... the 'mysterious side'.
call!
After Hannibal said this, Griffin let out a sigh of relief.
He seemed to be completely relaxed at this moment.
The whole person was slumped in the recliner, with obvious fatigue on his face.
"I feel like something is following me, he or she or it, I can't identify what it is, anyway, this thing has been sucking my memory."
"I feel like I'm missing a lot of things."
"However, my memory has not deviated."
"I still remember the jar I buried in my home on 'Fishbone Street' when I was six years old."
"But I just can't remember. I forgot something."
"Do you understand how I feel?"
Griffin spoke incoherently.
"Many people have symptoms like yours."
"Can you be more specific?"
Hannibal has all the qualities a qualified psychiatrist should have. He didn't ridicule, let alone show any disbelief. On the contrary, he recorded it in detail.
"Specifically?"
"Probably after meeting Jason and Gichel."
"Before, everything was normal."
"But since I acted as a lobbyist for a while, everything has become abnormal."
Griffin pondered for a moment before answering like this.
Then, Griffin described the process in detail.
Hannibal recorded it in detail.
Neither of the two people involved noticed that the door that was supposed to be closed suddenly opened.
The female pastry chef appeared at the door.
She walked in slowly.
He looked at the two of them blankly.
The coldness in his eyes seemed to be looking at two corpses.
She raised her hand.
The thick black fog emerged again, filling the entire room.
The handwriting on the notebook in Hannibal's hand quickly disappeared and turned into other records, but the handwriting was exactly the same.
The memories of the two also disappeared together and were replaced by other memories.
After finishing all this, the female pastry chef turned and left.
Squeak.
The door is closed.
Hannibal and Griffin seemed to wake up from their sleep.
"You said your memory has declined recently?"
"I think it's anxiety and insomnia."
Hannibal flipped through his handwriting as usual, making the final conclusion.
"Yeah?"
"It's probably those damned guys."
"'Ghost Squad' is such an annoying guy."
Griffin sat up, muttering.
Then, Griffin went straight out.
Hannibal sent Griffin to the door.
As usual with his patients, the two sides waved goodbye.
However, when Hannibal closed the door and accidentally glanced at the clock on the wall, he was taken aback.
Then, he turned and walked to the water bowl on the cabinet in the hallway, looking at the coins in it.
wrong!
wrong!
has a problem!
Hannibal picked up the notes just now again, and he carefully checked every word.
Indeed he wrote it.
Then, he flipped to the next page.
Pen marks through the paper appeared there.
He just glanced at it and thought of something.
Without any hesitation, he rushed into the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror and murmured, "You found nothing! You found nothing! You found nothing!"
"When you snap your fingers, you forget what you just discovered."
"When Jason says it's delicious, you remember what you just found."
Snapped!
There was a snap of his fingers, and Hannibal, who was standing in front of the mirror, froze for a moment before returning to normal.
"I don't know at noon, whether Jason will come back."
"What kind of lunch should I prepare?"
Hannibal turned and walked out of the bathroom.
He didn't realize that behind him, in the mirror, as he turned around, the shadow of the female pastry chef flashed on it.
"ah!"
On the carriage, the female pastry chef suddenly let out a cry of pain.
"What's wrong?"
Jason, who was flipping through the newspaper, turned his head to look.
"I don't know, just now my head suddenly felt like a needle prick."
"It hurts."
"It's probably because I haven't rested."
The female pastry chef forced a smile.
Jason frowned, and when he was thinking about whether to arrange for the female pastry chef to rest, the carriage that had been driving at a constant speed suddenly stopped.
Boom, boom, boom!
"Excuse me, is this your Excellency Jason?"
There was a knock on the carriage door, followed by a polite greeting.
Jason replied very simply:
"no."