"I think this responsibility should largely be attributed to my ’Blessing,’ which ans, bla the Devil who took my soul.
Isn’t that right, Bologue?
When misfortune befalls soone, it’s just like this. It’s not like I want it this way, but once the ’Blessing’ takes action, it’s beyond my control."
Amidst the noisy rain, Palr kept defending himself, like a hostage trying desperately to earn a shred of rcy from a ruthless bandit.
Bologue ignored him, sitting on the steps, gazing into the distance, watching a beam of light only he could see.
The light was moving away, every passing minute and second increasing the distance between Bologue and it, until it was utterly out of reach. Yet, in this urgent ti, Bologue and Palr were sitting in a gas station, waiting for the just-awoken attendant to refuel their motorcycles.
"I usually rember to refuel, just forgot this one ti," Palr wailed loudly.
Bologue’s deadly outfit, drenched and stained dark red with blood, and the nurous scars—God knows how many personal grudges this guy harbors. From Palr’s work experience, Bologue could have probably taken down an entire street’s worth of people in just one night.
Yet, after so much carnage, this man showed no signs of stopping, pursuing relentlessly, like he knew exactly where his enemies were.
Palr even felt that if Bologue got unhappy with his hacking spree, he might chop him up too.
Yeah, Palr knew from the start that his partner was a lunatic.
Now, this crazy person was looking at the sky, his blood-stained face carrying a deep aning, as if pondering life, or like a philosopher contemplating the ultimate question of existence.
Honestly, this uncertain feeling was truly unsettling.
"Hurry up!"
Palr turned around and shouted at the busy attendant, aggressively transferring all the pressure Bologue gave him onto this unlucky soul.
The unfortunate guy let out a piercing scream and sped up his work.
For this ordinary person, today was a disastrously unlucky day. On this dreary rainy night, he was assigned to this shift. Normally, this weather would barely see anyone coming to refuel, but instead, he encountered this pair of calamities.
When Palr dragged his drowsy self out of the office, he had started fishing out his pocket change, fearing a robbery, only to find out these two were rely here for fuel—they even paid for it.
Chaotic, in a rush.
Palr sat next to Bologue, patting his chest and promising, "Don’t worry, brother, we will definitely catch up with that bastard!"
He didn’t know who Bologue was going to kill, but how did that matter to Palr? He was just the rider here.
Bologue didn’t look at him, continuing to gaze into the rain as he slowly spoke.
"I’ve... been thinking about so things recently, Palr."
Palr’s heart raced, for these insights from lunatics were often utter gibberish. But nonsense aside, he knew all too well that his partner could turn such nonsense into reality.
"Speaking of which, I used to pursue evildoers, hunt them down, savor their pain, feeling like a punisher, executing justice.
But in reality, there is no justice, I’ve been using them as an outlet for my twisted desires, to satisfy my hollow soul."
Bologue’s grim confession, a maniacal killer’s self-reflection, was always chilling to hear.
Reaching for his chest, Bologue felt the cross necklace around his neck, bringing warmth against the cold, rainy night.
"But now, I feel differently."
"How so?" Palr asked apprehensively.
"I guess... it’s no longer my personal desire," Bologue thought carefully, speaking with utmost seriousness, "I’m not hunting these evildoers to satisfy my twisted desires anymore."
Recalling those kind words, there truly existed soone willing to give up everything for this. She was just an ordinary person, yet she did better than anyone, using all her life to try to pass this on.
"I think I’ve truly adopted this as an ideal.
To kill off all these damned evildoers, to create a better world. I know such a thing is out of reach, but fortunately, I am the Undead, I have enough ti to do all this until the world approximates what I desire."
"Man, you sound like a villain from the movies," Palr comnted.
"A villain? I kind of like villains," Bologue surprisingly nodded in agreent, "Dedicated, tenacious, willing to do whatever it takes for their goals... these are amazing qualities."
Palr fell silent, not knowing what to say, joining Bologue in gazing at the sky.
The dark, profound night sky enveloped all things in the world.
"I guess everyone has such a mont, suddenly realizing what they want to pursue," Palr suddenly said.
Bologue turned his head, seeing Palr toning down his usual liveliness, unusually calm.
"Do you know why it’s called ’Leica’?" Palr pointed to the motorcycle behind him.
"Why?"
"I had a dog nad Leica when I was a kid. It was a very big dog, and I always suspected my family fed it so kind of alchemy potion. I used to ride on its back, letting it carry around."
Palr started rambling about his childhood.
"Our Clarks family is an extraordinary clan, and extraordinary clans naturally have so strange rules, like how our coming-of-age ceremony is set at twelve, and from then on we have to start learning extraordinary knowledge.
As a child, I had no idea about these things. I played wildly with Leica every day until my twelve-year-old coming-of-age ceremony, when my old man told all this ssy stuff, saying I was the heir of the Clarks family and the first to step onto the glory path."
Palr’s expression turned peculiar, full of complaints and accusations.
"Can you understand, Bologue? You’re just a twelve-year-old kid, thinking only about what to eat and play today, and suddenly your old man pats you on the shoulder and tells you these things."
Palr imitated a solemn tone, "Palr, there will be a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood waiting for you; you must face it like a man!"
"Damn! I almost broke down at that ti. I cried and asked my old man if he understood what gradual acceptance ant; couldn’t he just let accept it bit by bit?
My old man said he originally thought of doing that, but then he believed that in everyone’s life, there’s only one chance for a coming-of-age ceremony, which is extrely important and sacred.
So, to make forever rember this sacred mont, he decided to turn it into a surprise on the day of the ceremony."
In the mory, that damned old man opened his arms to him with a pleased face and said, "Happy coming-of-age ceremony, son."
Palr took a deep breath.
"It wasn’t a surprise; it was a shock!"
Bologue’s expression turned awkward; Palr’s childhood was a real ss, leaving him unsure how to react to Palr.
It’s no wonder this guy is always so optimistic; he has been living in a turbulent and intense environnt since he was a child.
"After that, I beca sowhat rebellious. To be accurate, I didn’t like my family’s arrangents and wanted to live freely. So, I let Leica carry , running wildly over the vast green fields, but the Wind Source Highlands was too large to run out from dawn to dusk.
Every ti nightfall ca, I’d be caught and brought back, but after many attempts, Leica and I ran further each ti. I thought, if this continues, one day, I could escape."
Palr’s voice lowered, with a trace of wistfulness.
"I grew up day by day, and Leica grew old day by day. One day, Leica couldn’t move anymore, and I walked out of Wind Source Highlands to go to school as the old n instructed... I left Wind Source Highlands so simply.
But did I really leave?"
"Do you want freedom?" Bologue asked.
"Who knows? I’m quite free now, doing whatever I want, but am I really free?" Palr didn’t continue the topic, but switched to talking about the motorcycle, "Then I nad it ’Leica’, running wildly every day."
"Oil’s filled up!"
During the chat, the unlucky guy already completed his task, filling up the tank.
"Thanks!" Palr waved to the unlucky guy, the engine roared, and the motorcycle charged onto the street.
Racing against the stormy wind, the iron roars echoed through the deserted streets.
"Bologue, I’ve been racing in Opus for so long, and I’ve never been caught. Do you know why?" Palr shouted.
"Why?" Bologue continued.
"Because I’m fast enough. If you’re fast enough, you can outrun thunder and storm, outrun those seeking to catch you."
A radiant glow appeared on Palr’s body, and he gripped the handle tightly, twisting the accelerator to the limit.
"Hold on tight, Bologue!"
In an instant, the wind whipped around the motorcycle, and Bologue felt a suffocation, as if an invisible sharp knife cut through the air in front of the motorcycle, easily slicing apart all obstructing airflow, which streaked along the motorcycle edges.
A vague air shield enveloped the motorcycle, minimizing wind resistance under the drive of secret energy, completely isolating the endless rain threads, which streaked along the edges, outlining graceful arcs.
Palr let out a cheer, having long missed such indulgence, and Bologue, overwheld by the speed, joined him in cheering.
"Let’s catch up with those bastards!"
Palr fully unleashed Secret Energy·Wind Source, and the motorcycle beneath him seed to transform into so kind of monster, roaring, easily slicing through all attempts to obstruct its airflow.
The two of them advanced like riding the wind and thunder. From that mont on, nothing in this world could catch up with them, neither ti nor life and death.
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