Brothers through thick and thin.
All along the way, Palr kept muttering in my ear.
His enthusiasm was over-the-top, as if he were conducting so sort of hypnotic experint, trying to embed the notion that "Palr is a good brother" deep into my mind.
"Let tell you, the Field Operations Departnt is really not a place where humans can stay."
Palr rambled on, while Bologue glanced sideways at him with a slightly peculiar expression.
With his constant emphasis, Bologue couldn’t help but feel the term "good brother" had beco sowhat distorted, though he couldn’t quite pinpoint why.
"Ah... I suddenly want to go ho, but once I go back, those old fogeys will start nagging . If I don’t go ho, then I have to work here."
Palr had a serious aversion to work.
"Speaking of which, won’t you get fired for being so negatively inactive at work?" Bologue asked.
"No, negative inactivity at work has to be managed with the right ’degree.’"
"Like?"
"Like being in a state where the boss feels annoyed looking at , but if he really fires , he would be sowhat reluctant," Palr shrugged, "but that’s impossible, I’m from the Clarks family, our family is one of the founders of the Order Bureau. Without the agreent of those old fogeys, the Bureau couldn’t fire ."
"As a precious heir, wouldn’t your elders be furious if you died on a mission?"
Bologue had so respect for the mysterious Clarks family and wouldn’t refer to them as "old fogeys" like Palr did.
"Do you think I’ve never ntioned it to them?" At this point, Palr beca animated, "Their response was, if I were to die that easily, it would only an they had misjudged . Just appoint another heir then."
"Is this the cruelty of big families?"
"It’s those old fogeys who are nuts!" Palr refuted.
"For instance, throughout my life, I’ve been dragged by those old fogeys to learn this and that, going to military school, and now here at the Order Bureau."
Palr muttered a few words and cald down, then glanced at Bologue and said, "Don’t worry, I’m very optimistic, just have a penchant for complaining."
Looking at his forced smile, Bologue wanted to laugh but held back.
According to Palr, the Field Operations Departnt was like a den of wolves and tigers, while he was a thoroughly tragic figure.
Bologue viewed himself as having so psychological issues, but within the Order Bureau, people like him seed quite common. Not to ntion those with the Sublimation Furnace Core, even his partner had serious ntal issues.
Though he spoke all about optimism, recalling Palr’s deadly "Blessing" indeed seed more like making rry in hardship.
Of course, Bologue felt that he didn’t know Palr well enough yet, and nobody was sure what kind of person this "lucky unlucky guy" really was.
Maybe the decay and complaints were all just masks he used to disguise himself?
But truthfully, Palr’s endless complaints, yet being entrusted with important tasks by a group of high-ranking individuals, and playing with life-and-death situations like it was an action cody, made him quite the rare breed, at least none Bologue had encountered before.
"Speaking of which, Palr, you always ntion that I won’t die, why is that? Do you care about this point a lot?" Bologue curiously asked.
"How could I not care? That’s an Undying Body!" Palr babbled on, "At most, I’m blessed with luck and fortune, but you are truly incapable of dying!"
"Hmm... actually I feel it’s alright, sotis I think the price I paid isn’t just my soul."
Bologue seed to think of sothing and sighed.
"Like?" Palr asked.
"For instance, I’m still quite unlucky, Geoffrey often says the sa about , never encountering good things, and even when I do, bad outcos soon follow."
Upon reviewing his life carefully, this understanding seed to make so sense.
Joining the military for a living, ended up in the most perilous battlefield, sold his soul to the Devil, and shortly after got captured and thrown into the Black Prison. After finally being released, felt so kindness under Adelle’s care, but then...
"Ah? Does that an the two of us unlucky fellows are tead up together, and we won’t encounter problems in future actions?"
Bologue realized this was a significant issue.
"No, no, at most one and a half, don’t forget I still have that half luck left."
Palr emphasized, he managed to survive amidst constant misfortunes, all relying on that bit of luck.
"Anyway, having a teammate who won’t die is pretty nice."
Palr continued, his gaze evasive as if hiding sothing.
"Are you hiding sothing?"
"Nothing, nothing."
Palr shook his head vigorously.
"You better be clear, Palr."
Bologue’s tone beca firm.
The two stood at the entrance of the Order Bureau, the wide streets on both sides full of parked cars, while pedestrians bustled about, the clamor giving life to the earthly realm, lingering between the two.
"Well, you know, I could unexpectedly encounter misfortune at any ti. But this misfortune doesn’t just affect alone, sotis it might also harm my teammates because of it."
Palr talked about it, his eyes gazing at the distant dark clouds, expressing a sense of lancholy.
"To joke, that ti you ca to rescue , I really did slip because my foot slipped."
"Really?"
"Really."
Bologue was stunned, "Huh? Really? That’s too stupid."
"That’s right, that’s exactly it!" Palr scread, "There are always these strange things happening!"
"After becoming a debtor, I went on several missions with the team, and this situation kept occurring, affecting not only the mission but also my teammates. So, I had no choice but to start acting alone."
"So are you glad that your bad luck can’t kill ? Even if I die, I can co back." Bologue asked.
"Pretty much, at least I don’t have the psychological burden of worrying whether I’ll accidentally kill a teammate the next second."
Palr confessed, "I know it sounds sowhat heartless, treating you like a tool that doesn’t wear out..."
"Nothing heartless about it," Bologue interrupted Palr, speaking with utmost seriousness, "That’s just how experts are, worrying about possible variables is one of an expert’s professional qualities."
Now it was Palr’s turn to be stunned, recalling Bologue’s efficient and fierce deanor, from an expert’s perspective, Bologue seed perfectly fine.
An expert at handling troubleso matters.
Staring carefully at Bologue, when Palr shared his embarrassnt, a hint of a smile flashed across Bologue’s face, quickly returning to indifference, his gaze on Palr still had that contemptuous look.
"Speaking of which, why do you always look at like that? It’s unnerving," Palr cautiously asked.
"Because I’m slightly nearsighted."
"Huh?"
"Yeah, wearing glasses is quite inconvenient, they always break," Bologue said, focusing his gaze, the contempt vanished, and his eyes turned sharp, "But I’m not completely nearsighted, it’s just that when I want to look at sothing seriously, I need to concentrate and focus."
The sharp gaze swept over his body, like a cold knife rubbing along the skin, Palr shivered, quickly saying.
"Alright, alright, just keep looking at contemptuously."
His serious expression slackened, reverting back to a cold manner, for so reason, looking at the now expressionless Bologue, Palr felt a rare sense of familiarity.
"Oh, that’s my motorcycle, rember to put on the helt."
Palr said, pointing to a sidecar motorcycle in front of the Order Bureau, the very one Bologue had seen earlier. Palr seed to adore it, the body was polished to a shine.
"You seem to really like motorcycles," Bologue said, "That reminds of those midnight racing biker gangs causing disturbances."
A hint of embarrassnt flashed across Palr’s face, here Bologue was certain, among those midnight racing maniacs, Palr was surely one of them.
"No way, we call it a biker enthusiasts club," Palr said dryly, "Although, sure, so of us might be that unethical, but most of us are good people who wouldn’t do such bad things."
This only made Bologue more certain.
With a sigh, Bologue couldn’t be bothered to say anything more, put on the helt, and sat in the sidecar of the motorcycle.
Palr mounted the motorcycle, his face full of excitent as he spoke to Bologue.
"The speed of ’Leica’ is very fast, don’t be scared."
Bologue’s lips curled into a smile.
The sidecar motorcycle started moving on the street, Bologue also relaxed, sitting in the sidecar, enjoying the brief leisure, but just when Palr was waiting at the red light, a sharp screeching sound of brake burst forth.
A heavy truck broke through the red light, heading straight towards Palr.
A runaway steel monster.
The engine roared fervently.
Piercing brake sounds.
Pedestrians’ screams.
The sll of burning rubber from tires grinding against the ground.
The heavy truck grazed past Palr, brushing by and crashing into the street light at the corner.
Cold sweat slowly dripped from Palr’s forehead, he was almost overturned by the truck, the truck nearly skimd against his body.
"So, these things keep happening... But, I’m really quite lucky most of the ti."
After the thrilling mont, Palr let out a deep breath, boasting.
"You agree, right, Bologue."
No response.
"Bologue...?"
Palr turned his head, only to see a large piece of tal scraped off the sidecar, and Bologue, who was supposed to be sitting inside, was nowhere to be seen.
Frozen for a few seconds, Palr broke down in tears.
"Bologue!"
With Palr’s cries, a blood-covered figure crawled out from under the truck, the dented helt still firmly stuck on his head.
"Ah..."
Bologue groaned, starting to detest this partner.
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