Back at the store, we had a glass of apple juice for three people at our table.
Gently meet the master who raised his hand here before taking his seat.
"Well, it's refreshing to resume the meeting."
I put a lot of work into it.
"Well, Celia knows more about this matter than we do. I need you to stay in the best possible condition at all times."
Hmm, and Celia, with her nose ringing, offers a glass to this way as she turns that way.
Reesha, who imitated it, looked at me with the kind of eyes she expected.
"You know what? We were just attacked today by our enemies.
"But the three of us got over it together. Until a while ago, it was just me and Rosie, and I feel like we have more company!
"I didn't say it was going to be a part of you.... but I'll take care of it. The..."
"... Yes, yes, I get it"
I hit my own in a stick-out glass, smiling bitterly at the mouthwatering Celia.
Conn, a petty sound is transmitted through my arms.
I swallowed the amber liquid as I watched Reesha, who shook happily, and Celia, who looked in the direction of the day after tomorrow in the shade - each of the two reactions.
Whether the variety improvement has not progressed or such technology does not yet exist in the first place, apples in this world are not as sweet as they were in previous life.
Even if it is juiced, its properties remain the same, and the acidity is more pronounced than sweetness, especially if the flavour is not adjusted.
It had a refreshing drink for that matter and smelled good, which became my favorite at some point.
The stimulation that comes from a good acidity revitalizes my thoughts. It's a good idea to think.
"The food's totally chilled, but ask the master to reheat it? Celia's a soup, so you can't drink like that."
"No, you don't have to. Drinking cold soup is everyday tea, you're too obsessed with organizing information."
"Not as good as today. Let's eat something delicious because we're all eating it."
Ugh, and roaring Celia.
And someone accidentally kicked my shoes lightly at my feet.
There are only three people at this table and one person left if not Celia.
Reesha and I run into each other in no time.
"I'm going to, but what about Reesha?
"Yes, I'm going to ask you, too. If you want to eat anyway, you want something delicious!
That's what I say and nod back, smiling at Risha.
If the two of us ask for it, we won't be able to say no more than just Celia.
"So that's good, right? Celia."
"It takes a lot of work on the master... but, yeah, I get it"
Hands up and call the master.
When he asked me to explain the situation and warm up the dish, he took it on with pleasure.
Drop off the master disappearing straight into the kitchen and open his mouth to continue the conversation.
"Then let's start with a summary. Celia's right, Mr. Elsa was targeted as a declaration of war from a“ patchworker ”. We were supposed to meet Elsa's body. It's like a message from him."
"But it ended in an attempt because we found Elsa Relics and were too quick to make contact. But at the time they read about this behavior, it doesn't make any difference that they're taking the lead."
"Was the man who ran away then a" patchworker ”? He was wearing a hood, so he didn't see his face very well."
Yes, that's the first challenge to solve.
The pair who raided Elsa, who the hell is the man they think is the main culprit?
"Rosie, what do you think?
"... I think I'm someone else. Killer just hired for money, or - his followers."
"Believers?
Celia's eyes narrow.
"" Patchworkers ”are so-called theatrical criminals. Murder in particular often involves resentment and financial problems, but theatrical types do not. Killing itself or with the main purpose of attracting public interest"
"... theatrical, that's the first word I've ever heard. But if you ask me, it's true. No matter how many washes I tried, there was no contact between the victims, and there was a thorough commitment to how to kill them."
"Such a man can give birth to insane followers and copycats. A dangerous charm that attracts people, an evil charisma."
"... ugh"
Her cheeks unwittingly loosen to Reesha, who looked disgusted as she listened.
"So let's hear, what makes you think you're a believer, not a“ patchworker ”himself?
Recirculate Celia's tried gaze.
Well, now it's time to put together some information.
The explanation to Risha goes hand in hand, needless to say, it seems to be in my mouth.
"That's what you just said. It's an unusual obsession with how to kill."
"I guess. If you kill him there, the Patchworker will deviate from his own rules."
"A regular record alone kills 13 groups of 39 people, all the same way. No matter how much for a declaration of war, the one isn't mediocre enough to bend his own flux in a place like that. The more you analyze it - the more typical psychopath it is."
"Saikobasu?
Let Reesha, with her neck tilted, flaunt her shoulders.
"The definitions are theoretical, but basically I'm referring to people who have sensibilities far from the average human being. In extreme examples, if you look at a tragic murder scene, you don't move one eyebrow, or harm others, you don't feel as guilty as a shard. In that sense, I can call myself a psychopath."
"I didn't expect to put myself in the same brackets as a hound killer."
"Psychopaths are outside the" normal ”values that determine the good and evil of things, that's all. Not everyone gets their hands on crime like me or Patchworker."
Stir up the glass and wet your lips.
It is still important to speak up even if you understand.
The statue of the killer came up somehow.