Oath City, Opus.
This is a magical, interesting city teeming with chaos, often described in travel magazines by editors as,
"If your mundane life feels dull, if you’re bored with unchanging routines, if you wish to see things beyond your imagination.
Co to Oath City, Opus! This ghostly place definitely won’t disappoint you."
Ghostly place.
Indeed, that’s how those editors describe Opus.
This is a land of alluring charm, captivating everyone, yet when you ask them why they’ve co here, they can’t quite say.
It might be the mixed cultures where outsiders intertwine, the City’s sense of inclusivity that accommodates everything, the spectacle of the Great Rift at the center, or perhaps just the historical backdrop of the city.
Dudel, like many outsiders, ca from a remote town where news was scarce, and lagged behind the tis, lacking music, lacking movies.
Dudel once lived in such a world, with plans set by his family to work in a factory upon adulthood, marry at an appropriate age, have children, and have his next generation repeat this cycle.
Late at night, Dudel would ponder the aning of such a life, but thinking further, he too couldn’t understand.
One day, by an opportunity, Dudel heard a stirring lody, and from then he couldn’t bear the dead silence of the small town. Dudel left his hotown and ca to Opus.
Dudel liked this city, though many say Opus isn’t a suitable place to live, here things change daily with new births and old eliminations.
Many people find it hard to adapt to Opus’ rhythm, but those who do, find it difficult to adapt to other cities. It’s just that wondrous.
This is a dazzling city, yet also a dark one, with a vast gap between wealth and poverty, rampant gangs, a shockingly high cri rate, a continuous influx of outsiders, oh, and the dark place known as the Great Rift with its occasionally erupting gray haze.
The editors were right, this really is a ghostly place.
Here you can find everything you desire, yet this city can also take away everything you yearn for.
Dudel understood all of this, but he didn’t mind, and if possible, he’d like to live here permanently.
The lights flickered incessantly, the elegant lody vanished into nothingness, people scread and fled the building, yet amidst the chaos, Dudel alone stood steadily by the gaping pit.
Raised dust dirtied Dudel’s high-end attire, and amid such a scene, Dudel was slightly stunned before laughing out loud.
The date he felt pressured by was ruined like this, and Dudel suddenly felt a difficult-to-describe sense of freedom, then fear engulfed his consciousness.
Those living long in Opus have sowhat thick nerves, accustod to various criminal conflicts, like the recent robbery that spanned several blocks, yet when such things truly happen to oneself, it tests one’s mindset.
The gaping pit confined Dudel to a corner of the room, leaving him with no escape. Forcing himself to calm down, Dudel sat back in the chair and poured himself a drink from the bottle he’d paid for, thinking it would be a waste not to consu it.
The alcohol slightly numbed his tense nerves, Dudel comforted himself, thinking that once this ordeal was over, he could recount this unlucky event as a joke on the radio.
Indeed, when misfortune struck, that’s how Dudel consoled himself.
"The radio will have a story tonight."
It seems that Dudel is quite the dedicated expert.
Violent vibrations emanated from beneath the pit, along with the roar of beasts, who knows what’s transpiring below. Dudel’s face turned pale as he struggled to think of pleasant things to relax his mind.
Suddenly, the commotion subsided, settling into complete silence.
Dudel nervously peered into the pit, then a grappling hook embedded itself into the pit’s edge, the line tightened and retracted, and a man leaped out from below.
The man was shrouded in gray, his clothes riddled with large holes, looking rather battered. His gaze darted around warily, searching for sothing, emanating a palpable killing intent.
His eyes landed on Dudel, Dudel felt the man’s gaze was as sharp as a knife, instinctively averting his eyes, escaping the man’s stare.
Then, inexplicably to Dudel, the knife-like gaze suddenly softened and turned sowhat fervent.
In this absurd situation, the man held cold blades in both hands, his face lit with excitent, and said, "Dudel?"
Dudel was about to burst into tears.
In an instant, Dudel recalled his social circle, and with his nocturnal habits, outside of work he barely had any friends, so what rits could he possibly have to know such a person?
The man strode over quickly, the blades reflecting a bright glow, complenting his excited expression.
Dudel was truly about to cry, tears were already welling up in his eyes.
"This is not the right ti to et."
The man muttered softly, occasionally glancing around warily, appearing pressed for ti, releasing the sword blade in his right hand, and grasping Dudel’s hand firmly, shaking it vigorously.
"Great to see you, Mr. Dudel!"
Dudel found it difficult to think about the current situation.
The man happily exclaid, "I’m your fan!"
Dudel started to struggle with understanding the word "fan."
"Ah... ah ah ah!"
Dudel had already lost his basic ability to speak, only able to emit different syllables to express his emotions.
The man’s enthusiasm had not yet been fully unleashed; he mimicked Dudel’s tone, imitating that classic opening line in front of him.
"Gray mist! Industry!"
The man looked at Dudel expectantly, mouthing the next words as if he wanted to shout them out together with Dudel.
"Delicious shrimp crisps!"
"Woo ah! Woo ah! Woo ah!"
Dudel burst into tears, his vision blurred by the tears, unable to understand why he was crying.
Was it the impact of fear or the excitent of interacting with a passionate fan in this scenario that moved him to tears?
Never mind, who cares about such things anyway?
At least one thing is certain: the guy in front of him really is his fan, and then in his heart, Dudel wonders what he did to deserve such a fan, wondering who usually listens to his radio shows.
The man was extrely happy; who knows why he felt so happy about such a thing.
"See you next ti, Dudel!"
After a high-five, the man waved to Dudel, threw a grappling hook upwards, and vanished from sight.
He ca like a hurricane and left like a hurricane, leaving only ruins behind, and Dudel’s chaotic heart.
Dudel stood dumbfounded for a long ti before slowly collapsing to the ground with a dazed expression.
"I love this ghostly place."
Dudel murmured.
...
Bologue once again leapt into the city’s shadows, moving swiftly with the grappling hook.
He never thought he would encounter Dudel here; unfortunately, he still had things to do, otherwise Bologue would definitely have pulled Dudel aside to chat about music appreciation and the like.
Bologue was indeed Dudel’s fan, in every sense, and he found it hard to resist anything related to Dudel, like the food Dudel recomnded. He couldn’t quite explain why.
However, personal life is personal life, and work is work; now Bologue still had urgent matters to attend to.
After crashing into a building with the beast, the beast believed it had the upper hand at close range, but Bologue quickly taught it a lesson.
In the blink of an eye, Bologue pierced his spear through the beast’s body, ready to strike it down, when the beast bizarrely vanished into the shadows, retreating from the battlefield.
Bologue guessed it was so kind of teleportation technique; it likely hadn’t fled far, and now Bologue could still vaguely sense the remnants of the beast’s ether.
Under Bologue’s speculation, the opponent should not be an alchemical creature but a Condenser; the secret energy could be from the Elevation School, transforming itself into that strange beast.
Anyway, the chaos had already erupted; Bologue decided not to hold back any longer. With the ether’s blessing, he was as swift as a phantom, chasing the beast across the city rooftops.
Suddenly, an invisible threat approached from afar, without a sound, nor any ether reaction; in this night-ti environnt, Bologue was completely unaware of it all.
Cold tal grazed his arm, slashing away a patch of blood, and Bologue halted abruptly on a rooftop, swiftly hiding himself behind cover, but soon another bullet whizzed through the night sky.
Based on the previous bullet’s hit position, this one shouldn’t have been able to hit Bologue behind the cover, but the high-speed bullet sohow shifted direction, aiming right at Bologue.
Weak sparks flickered across scale armor; Bologue had already donned iron armor, seemingly indicating there was more than one attacker, all hiding beyond Bologue’s sight.
"Mr. Bologue Lazarus."
A twisted whisper echoed behind Bologue, and as he turned, the black beast lunged from the shadows, seemingly able to traverse within shadows, its movents uncanny and unpredictable.
Bologue and the beast collided, grappling with each other, neither able to overpower the other montarily; dense spikes exploded from the scale armor, repeatedly piercing the beast’s body, and beneath the torn wounds, no blood spilled, but rather bursts of agitated ether.
The beast’s massive maw was alarmingly close, and within the darkness on its head, a human face erged, its dark and frenzied eyes staring at Bologue, gleefully shouting at him.
"I’m your fan!"
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