A meeting between father-in-law and son-in-law

In the dream, Lorry, dressed in a black and white checkered Police uniform, said in a deep voice:

"Police."

He then heard footsteps growing louder, and a dozen seconds later the door of the detached Villa was opened from the inside, leaving a small crack.

Falken Wall, who had already changed into loose brown pajamas, frowned slightly.

What do you want from me?

"I had dinner with your Director tonight, why didn't he greet me?"

The Police Station greeted him... Fors ' father was indeed doing well here... With this thought flashing through his mind, Lorry coughed lightly:

Sir Wall, you've probably misunderstood.

"I'm from Backlund, and I'm here to ask for your help because of a case involving a woman named Fors Wall."

"I think you should know her?"

"Fors..." Falken paused for a few seconds, then flung open the door, his voice urgent as he asked, "What kind of case is this?!"

In his dream, he did not question the irrationality of the matter at all.

Their eyes met.

Lorry sized up Sir Wall, while Falken did Lorry same, his already furrowed brows furrowing even deeper.

"I'm sorry, but I can't reveal specific details of the case until I've confirmed certain things." Lorry withdrew his gaze and asked:

"May I ask, what is your relationship with Fors Wall?"

"She's my daughter." A hint of puzzlement flashed through Falken's mind, but he suppressed the inexplicable irritation and answered the young Police's question.

He took a deep breath and asked again:

"What kind of case is this? Is Fors alright?"

"Shall we talk here?" Lorry glanced left and right.

Falken was silent for a few seconds, then stepped aside:

"Come in."

After Lorry entered, he closed the door and strode quickly to the leather Sofa in the Living Room, explaining to the guest following behind him:

"I'm sorry, my behavior just now was impolite."

After he finished speaking, he paused for two seconds, seemingly hesitating whether to continue.

"Actually, I'm not usually like this. I don't know why, but from the moment I heard your voice today, I had a really unpleasant feeling."

"Seeing your face only intensified this feeling of unease." Falken finally decided to speak, his tone slightly hesitant.

He himself was puzzled as to why he felt this way.

Logically speaking, this young Police from Backlund, tall and handsome with a magnetic and gentle voice, should be quite likable.

He was annoyed just by hearing the voice, and even more annoyed by seeing the face... So if I told you that I was holding your daughter at this time yesterday, wouldn't you hit me? Lorry never expected that his father-in-law's reluctance to Door Opening for so long had this reason, and he couldn't help but think to himself:

"Truly Believer in Storm..."

"Saying whatever comes to mind without considering the other person's feelings. Of course, it's also possible that in a dream, the subconscious mind is free of restraint."

After expressing his feelings, he smiled and said:

"Perhaps, as some astrologers say, our Aura clash?"

"Perhaps." Falken didn't think there was much need to discuss this topic. He took out the glasses used to serve guests, poured two glasses of pale golden liquid, then got up and went to the Kitchen. He somehow produced ice cubes and lemon slices, fiddled with them for a while, and handed one to Lorry. "It's a fairly famous local drink called ' Golden Sunlight.' You probably won't find it anywhere else in Backlund."

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Now Lorry finally understood where Fors's habit of having a drink now and then came from—it turned out to be a tradition of the Wall family.

He took a few sips and nodded in approval:

"Great taste."

After saying that, Lorry steered the conversation back on track. "You just said you're Ms. Fors Madam Wall's father, what proof do you have?"

"Evidence?" Falken put down his wine glass, his face filled with bewilderment.

How am I supposed to prove that? Is that even human language?

How can I prove that my daughter is my daughter?

He thought about it carefully and asked, "Do letters and money orders count?"

"Yes." Lorry nodded.

"Then wait a moment." Falken got up and walked towards a place that looked like Study diagonally opposite the Living Room. Three or four minutes later, he came out carrying a box.

Whoosh!

He emptied the contents out:

"We've been corresponding for the past few years, and the postmarks on the envelopes can serve as proof. As a Police, you should know how to distinguish between genuine and fake letters."

"And these remittance slips also bear the red stamp of Backlund Bank."

Lorry took the letter and glanced through it, noticing that the last letter and the first remittance slip were dated close together, with the former coming first.

A thought struck him, and he frowned, saying:

"It seems you haven't been in contact for a long time, and the name on the remittance slip isn't Madam Wall. Fors Wall."

Is it possible for a father and daughter to President three years without contacting each other?

"Because that was her mother's bank account, and before that, all my money had been sent with my letters," Falken said in a low voice.

"As for how frequently we contact each other, that's my family matter, Police Officer."

"Well, Sir, you're right. Perhaps this is your family matter, and under normal circumstances, the Sivellaus Yard has no right to interfere."

Lorry shrugged. "But this is an investigation and questioning. If you can't provide a reasonable explanation, I have reason to refuse to tell you more about the case."

Falken glared angrily, suddenly feeling an urge to punch the other man in the face.

Just then, he heard the young Police Officer sigh:

Now it's just you and me here.

"After investigating your relationship, I will return to Backlund. Even if you tell me something, it won't affect my current life."

"Or are you simply not interested in learning more details about the case?"

What this pretty-boy Police said seems to make sense... Anyway, once he finishes this case, he'll soon be heading back to Backlund...

Falken's thoughts in the dream were unconsciously guided, and he thought this way.

He picked up the "Golden Sunlight" and took a big gulp. After a dozen seconds of silence, he spoke in a hoarse voice, "Actually, there's no particular reason."

"In the pursuit of wealth and power here, I started a new family, and therefore feel a deep sense of guilt towards my wife and daughters in Backlund."

"I only feel a little better when I send them money."

"This guilt reached its peak a few years ago when my wife died. I had a mental breakdown and almost committed suicide several times. Fortunately, my current wife found a great Psychiatrist in time. After half a month of treatment, my suicidal thoughts were gradually dispelled."

"This Psychiatrist advised me that if I didn't want the problem to recur in the future, I should make a clean break with my past as soon as possible."

"But at that time, Fors was still in Grammar School and had no ability to live independently. How could I, as her father, not abandon her?"