Chapter Text
The girl woke up on the floor. Her eyes were blurry, as if they were covered with something, and the vision in front of her right eye was red and black, and it seemed to be blood.
She tried to open her eyes, her head was also painful, and she seemed to be bleeding.
Why don't you remember anything?
She tried to think back, but her brain was blank and she couldn't even remember her name.
She was cold and hungry. But she didn't care about the groaning belly at this time, because she noticed that there was a man in black in front of her who was pacing while talking on the phone, and she couldn't understand what he said.
The black-clothed man seemed to notice her, turned around and leaned against the wall, his eyes seemed to stare at her a little inattentively. The girl felt the fear instinctively-especially after seeing the silver pistol around his waist.
What is he going to do? who is he? Is he going to kill me?
This is the only possibility in the girl's mind. But she hadn't thought of what she had done!
She shrank into a ball, afraid to look into the eyes of the man in black.
The man in black finished the call, the flip of the phone closed, and there was a click. The girl's shoulders shrugged, and her breathing became even more rapid. Immediately afterwards, she heard the sound of metal collision, probably the sound of bullets and insurance.
She closed her eyes and buried her head deeply, shaking.
Maybe she was someone's enemy, or someone who is very sinful? She didn't want to leave with blank memories, but now there seemed to be no way.
She held her breath, and her heartbeat was particularly pronounced.
But she waited for a while, but there was pacing and heavy sighs. Immediately afterwards, there was another metal sound-the man turned off his pistol safety.
She quietly raised her head, the man had already picked up the pistol, and squatted down to look at her. He seemed to touch his forehead with a headache, but he was still looking at her.
The girl trembled again-her vision was still a bit blurred, but even through this vision and the man's glasses, the scar on his right eye socket was particularly obvious. She didn't know what she was looking on now, she probably only had fear.
The man let out a heavy sigh again, then said something and helped her sit up.
The girl didn't know what he was going to do, still holding herself shivering, staring at the feet of the man in black. The black-clothed man leaned against the wall and seemed to ask a few more questions, but she couldn't understand it. The man in black then asked: "Do you speak English?"
The girl finally understood. She raised her eyes and looked at him. The man in black shook his head: "Of course, English."
He had a strong Eastern European accent—very strange, he didn't even remember his name, but she still remembered all these miscellaneous common sense—introduced himself: "My name is Dimi . Today... you will not die. "
The girl raised her head and met Dimi 's eyes.
Dimi bent down, looking at the girl with a little more expression in his eyes: "You are lucky...very, very, lucky." He took off his leather gloves, and the girl noticed that he was wearing a plain wedding ring.
"Not only won't you die, I'll cure you." He put his gloves aside and sat down on the floor, as low as she was.
The girl relaxed a little, but still hugged herself with lingering fears. Dimi took out a pack of cigarettes, took out one: "Do you want one?"
The girl shook her head.
Dimi mumbled a few more words, then turned to light the cigarette, took a long sip, and said to the girl: "Look at you...how many things do you remember?"
The girl still shook her head.
"Well...then you may be curious now, what happened, why the police are also looking for you."
The faint sound of police cars outside reminded the girl of this. She nodded slowly. Dimi continued: "I have good news and bad news. The bad news is that my boss wants you to die... but the good news is that I decided not to do this. I want to keep your life... … Malenkee . Because, look, I think you are worth living longer." Dimi finished speaking, comparing her forehead with his hand, as if she were a child.
"Is this my name?"
The girl spoke for the first time. Dimi looked at her and actually smiled: "No. This is Russian, meaning'little one'. You don't even remember the name?"
"I don't remember..." the girl said, she quickly observed herself again, and felt that she was probably in her twenty, so she wouldn't be called that way, let alone be used by a suspected gangster as someone who was still thinking that she was a kid.
"I'm Russian... You are in St. Petersburg now. You don't remember your name... It doesn't matter. The name can be changed to cover up your past."
" Malenkee " nodded blankly. She saw the gun on Dimi's waist and tightened her body again. Dimi looked at the gun and waved his hand: "This? Don't worry, I won't point the gun at you. This is for people who are looking for you."
Malenkee listened and remembered it. She was relieved.
Dimi put the cigarette aside, took off his jacket, and put it on Malenkee. He was so close, a strong smell of tobacco radiated from Dimi's body and jacket, dry and dizzy.
The jacket brought intense heat, and Malenkee grabbed the placket of the jacket and tightened it again. Dimi stood up, took a medical kit from the other side of the room, sat down here, took out some napkins from it, and wiped Malenkee 's forehead. He was very careful, but he seemed to be involuntarily using heavy techniques. , Touching her forehead hurts. Dimi added: "I'm a doctor, uh... how do you put it... the doctor of a criminal syndicate. What about you... are in big trouble. Some people, powerful people, want to hurt you. But don't worry. , I will guarantee your safety. You have been injured, so you have to be healthy, Malenkee ."
Malenkee 's right eye was put on a cold compress, and she raised her left eye to look at Dimi . Dimi pulled the bandage, met her eyes, and smiled briefly for two seconds. He was tinkering with various things on Malenkee's head, Malenkee didn't know what it was, she just felt pain. She hid away, and Dimi frowned and said, "Don't move, I'm helping you, okay?" After speaking, he flicked the handle of the pistol.
Malenkee could only sit there obediently. Strangely, she felt that the action just now just to scare her. Perhaps because of her own condition, she only started to trust this " Dimi " within a few minutes . She didn't even know if he was lying to her, or his details, what his surname was, and even whether " Dimi " was his real name or not.
"Are you warm now?"
"Yes."
After a brief question and answer, the two fell silent again. Dimi seriously treated Malenkee 's wounds, and she had nothing but to sit and accept.
After finishing the last thing about the dressing, he sighed heavily, stood up, took out the gun again, shook it in his hand, and said, "Do as I said. Is it clear? You have to stay still and don't walk around, otherwise it will be very tiring for both of us."
Dimi had already smoked the first cigarette in a few puffs. He ordered another one, and then raised his hand: "You have two bleeding spots on your head, so I have to stop the bleeding. It hurts, bear with me." Before Malenkee could react, Dimi put the cigarette butt to his head. It's hot down. The pain seemed to burrow into his head, and tears burst into Malenkee's eyes. She wiped her tears with the back of her hand quietly, without speaking.
Dimi was a few more puffs, and the second cigarette was half of it immediately. He sat back on the floor again, and said something: " Malenkee , let me tell you about you. Before, my boss gave me an order. He is a good man, well, he is not a good man. , But overall a good man."
He described his boss ambiguously, and then added: "He asked me... well, already told you. What a cruel joke. But I think you are better alive. And, you have... ability, a kind of the ability to play a big role. I will bring you to the right people. They are called "Dynasty". You only need to love them... Agree? If you agree, we are all happy; if you disagree, I will I can only execute the orders of my boss."
Malenkee nodded immediately-although she was confused, why would she disagree?
"Very good." Dimi 's second cigarette also ran out. He pressed the cigarette out, muttering to himself something in Russian, then looked at Malenkee , stood up, and whispered as if he was listening to himself: "Don’t get involved with bad people, Malenkee , especially now. "After finishing speaking, putting on leather gloves, leaning over to look at Malenkee , and asked: "Can you guarantee to see me at the Nevsky Street underground station at the same time in two days ?" Dimi looked at her with a pair of black eyes, not to be discussed.
Malenkee doesn't want to go out now, but like the previous "dynasty", she has no choice.
"Very good. Can you promise not to tell anyone about our plan?... Very good. Keep the jacket, this one for you, hold it for self-defense." With that, Dimi took out the silver pistol and demonstrated briefly turn on and off the safety, and then handed it to Malenkee without any further explanation . Malenkee took the hot thing and put it away tremblingly.
"You can eat and drink here. You should be fine for two days. Remove the bandage on your head before going out." Dimi straightened up, "I will show up next to you at the underground station, and then I will take you. Go to 'Dynasty'. Now, I have to go and tell a lie to my boss...bye!"
As he said with a cold face, but he clicked the tip of Malenkee 's nose playfully and left the house.
Malenkee sat on the floor, dumbfounded .
The clock pointed to four o'clock in the afternoon, and the sky outside was dark.
The calendar hanging on the wall, the time is 11.2011.
She touched the handle of the gun, digesting it all. She still scratched her head with a little itching.
The smell of tobacco on the jacket has not disappeared for a long time.