Work Text:
I want to get a dog.
Very strong, gutted, sleek...
loyal above all else
A person always betrays.
No matter how much I repay you, no matter how much you lead me,
Betrayal is a person.
But the dog.
Once the owner is chosen, he never betrays.
Rather, even if the owner abandons him, hits him, or locks him up,
Dogs never betray. It's full of loyalty and affection only for the owner.
If I had a dog.
I'll never let him go anywhere else. If he stay with me, take care of him, and he's loyal to me,
I'm willing to repay him many times more than I do to people.
He deserves it.
Well, that's what he deserves.
-
"Isn’t it sweet? I can see why you like having him around. But then, people do get so sentimental about their pets. They’re so touchingly loyal.”
The snowflakes are pouring down. To trap me, the sky snows. At first I thought so.
My mother is dead.
She hung herself. I can testify it time and time again. It's easier than chewing a lollipop. Because lollipops are hard to bite. Rather, it is much easier to describe the angle at which the mother's neck was bent. It can also explain how she died.
I was able to elaborate on the way over and over again.
At first I didn't think of money as a number. It was like a reward for what I did, so at first, I just enjoyed myself to my heart's content.
I thought, more than that, I wanted an award for my actions, but no one listened to me. 'I did that!' 'I did that!'
Applause is a service that you pay for and receive.
Many children as children are forced to do things that are inappropriate or inaccurate. A simple circuit that thinks reasonably can't answer a wrong and absurd answer with hesitation. Not being able to answer means not being strong and not being strong means not being able to do it at will. I always hoped that day would come. If I grow up a little more, if I grow up a little more...It might be possible then. I didn't know it was 'celebration' and just went out to the drawing room to see the candle growing my age on the cake. Now I don't need or deserve a cake, but sometimes I miss those days.
It's because of the interest in my life that was fierce.
I had to grow up. At that time, I hoped for an increase in the number of candles that I put on the cake every year, and my face was frustrated that my mother, who must have ripped someone's face skin off and made a mask, died, and I was frustrated that I couldn't blame my father for breaking his leg, and nothing came close to me. It was always a matter of money. I gave money that wasn't a number to anyone, and after I said that, everyone ran away. At best, the people who knew how to listen to me were dirty, dirty people. Not a single corner was purely asked or understood about my intentions.
Oh my gosh, I was desperate for a dog. a loyal and strong one.
My father refused to let me. My mom didn't ask if she could bring another man. But it was okay. Her cake had several candles. Only, I needed that much candle. I wanted to bring my mom's candle if I could. I didn't know that fracturing her neck bone didn't mean it could be brought in, and that it prevented me from seeing her candle increasing anymore.
It's just that the mother died. And snow falls. People are flocking. It's mumbling.
I only knew that there was a silent clap.
Inside the cruel and messy people of every corner of the night, there are neatly washed hands, and I also have such hands.
And I knew that fracturing my father's leg could lead to death.
As much as I could, I could get a dog. Everything went smoothly.
Unfortunately, however, people are the only objects that can walk on two feet with such hands, so I began to gather people with the information and thoughts I had known so far. My mansion was flooded with such dirty things. Before I knew it at first, I thought it was best. Where's the best...? That was enough. I was never felt sad or disappointed because of that.
My personal information is very different from mine. Every stupid writing on the paper moved as I was told. I have never committed a crime in my life, only my doctorate, nothing else. I only borrow other cases, but stupid people believe me with just one document that I have a high degree or know a lot.
Crimes are frivolous. Typical, boring.
More delicate and detailed work is needed. The crime itself was like a kindergarten student's sorghum doll. If you trim and refine it, and if you work in detail from the beginning, crime may also be art. It was a new concept. I wanted to design it from start to finish on my own. To imitate someone is blasphemy, to be disillusioned with oneself and wanted something close to art. I wanted a tent. The kind of work that allowed the audience to feel or not notice at all, turn it over like a fool, and become a beer drinker at the dinner table. That's how it started. Maybe there's no one in the world who has the same job as me.
The first consulting Criminal in the World.
"That's genius."
I know that. It's such a simple fact. Breakthrough, innovative and brilliant. But such rhetoric doesn't matter. I'm not good enough. There is an infinitely empty corner. I can't stand the emptiness and wander every night, every night alone. Looking at the dirty, vulgar things in my mansion, I deplore. What is it? What income will it bring to me? If you think about it, it's not such a problem. Maybe My heart…
"Isn’t it sweet? I can see why you like having him around. But then, people do get so sentimental about their pets. They’re so touchingly loyal.”
No one has taken my neck this close. It was best to give it away before it happened. I don't do all the dirty work. As I said earlier, betrayal is as good as eating, but there is a pattern in it, so you block the passage properly and make people do it. It's always possible if you can. No, that's not the problem. It was like testing me to see if I had a heart.
It's another reason why I really wanted to keep a dog.
I couldn't find anyone to come close to me and rub my face.
But that day, I knew.
For all these years, my dead mother and father who fractured his leg and eventually died. Everyone in college, a degree, a trickster,
Another 'genius' advisory detective pointing a gun at me, and...
Loyal dogs exist.
Behind me, like this, I stand with my hands up and my feet up.
Loyal people exist.
A word like truth passed through my head. I want to grow it out. A loyal dog.
Powerful force to get out right. Assistant. I'm confident I won't fall behind in any part - even though I don't want to compete like that in the first place - but I'm one short.
A loyal human being who will purely come up to me and rub my face.
I can't quit. This game, this case,
It's because there's something I want to win.