, say everything slowly.

He reached into his arms and took out an exaggeratedly carved iron box, which was neatly filled with cigarettes.

Picking up one of the red-lined cigarettes, Lorenzo took it in his mouth and looked at everything on the document.

Smoke filled the carriage and slowly rose.

Time seemed to slow down. The things contained in the tobacco spread to his nerves after the blood exchange, and his gray-blue eyes shimmered.

It was as if the carriage had entered another world. The window darkened, and finally turned into pitch black. In this darkness, only the light from Lorenzo's cigarette remained.

"Let me see you..."

Lorenzo whispered, and with the glimmer of light from the cigarette, his fingers rubbed the rough paper, and he silently read the words on the document in his mind.

To put it simply, the so-called spirit of words means that words come into being, just like the classic "God said there should be light, so there was light."

It is a narrative from the bottom of the heart, so the "spirit" is fermenting in the darkness.

Lorenzo looked at the documents under the firelight, and suddenly there was a rapid sound of wind in the darkness, and the fishy smell of sea water swept over him.

Something seemed to be approaching Lorenzo. It crawled slowly on the ground, making a sticky and disgusting sound. Its eyes were silently watching the meditating man, and it stopped not far away.

Thunder struck, lighting up the darkness for a moment under the threat of the storm, and the earth shook.

Although it was only for a moment, you can still see Lorenzo sitting on a chair with his head lowered in thought. If you zoom out, you can see that he is on the Silver Fish at this moment.

The sea was beating against the ship that was on the verge of sinking, a strange cold wind was caressing him, and the cracked and damp deck in front of him was now full of people.

As if none of this existed, Lorenzo raised his head coldly and looked at the silhouette that was reflected pale by the thunder. The seaweed-like hair was swaying in the wind, and the water was dripping like blood.

Lorenzo showed no fear at all, as if everything was normal.

"Where on earth have you been?"

He asked towards the strange darkness.

The crew members disappeared out of thin air, the mysterious cargo. He was looking for the weirdness hidden between the lines, the thing that really drove all of this.

The fleeting thunder was about to leave, and at the end of the light, Lorenzo noticed a hint of old blood.

The creature staring at him in the dark.

Turning his head sharply, Lorenzo found the key point.

His eyes quickly swept away, and he saw that it was a ferocious corner, but then the corner overlapped with a familiar face, and a voice sounded.

"Mr. Holmes?"

The coachman opened the door and looked at Lorenzo surrounded by smoke. His eyes were dull and empty, as if he was looking at himself.

It wasn't until the cigarette ashes burned Lorenzo's fingers that he reacted like he was waking up from a dream and threw away the cigarette butt.

As the coachman opened the door, everything that was strange and dreamlike ended.

The sky was still gloomy, and the coachman's face was a bit disappointed.

"Sir, I thought you wouldn't touch hallucinogens or anything like that."

It had been a long time since he arrived at the Victoria Central Hospital. He called Lorenzo many times but there was no response. He even said that when he opened the car door, Lorenzo was still as sluggish as if he was in a dream.

Although he works for the boss of all gangs, the coachman still instinctively resists things like hallucinogens. The young man thinks that this is the key to heaven, but in his opinion, it is an invitation to hell.

"You know, in my line of work sometimes I need some inspiration."

Lorenzo smiled and did not answer directly.

The coachman sidled out of the way, muttering as Lorenzo got off.

"If you need it, I know a few good addiction treatment therapists...but their methods are a bit rough."
Chapter completed!