Casualties ca suddenly, with no chance to counter it, Palr dragged Hart back to the chessboard round table, the temporary safest place in this ghostly place.
With Hart’s fall, there was one less player rolling dice each round, reducing the action points, which resulted in the Dawn advancing a shorter distance each turn.
Bologue felt the pressure, in the previous board ga, they had fallen under the waves of demon swarms, losing the ga during the combat phase, but now a new crisis had erged. If the attrition continued, the dice points each turn would only get smaller, and the supply point just within reach would beco unattainable.
"We need to pick up the pace."
Bologue suggested, "Roll the dice quickly, resolve the events fast!"
By accelerating the ga’s speed to accelerate the number of turns, Bologue hoped Hart’s will was strong enough to minimize the need for more turns.
Palr looked up and asked, "What do you think Hart’s nightmare might be?"
Gold explained, "The side he fears the most inside."
Palr didn’t continue questioning. From Gold’s state where madness and rationality coexisted, Palr could feel the terror of the nightmare, looking at Hart with both pity and concern.
Bologue asked, "What is Hart afraid of?"
"I don’t know," Palr shook his head, knowing little about this friend, "he never talked to about these things."
That’s probably the etiquette among adults, Hart would often go to Palr’s parties, get drunk with him until dawn, but he seldom shared his troubles with Palr, and even if he did, it was just so complaints about work.
Whoever it was, when people gathered together, they would tell so boring jokes, then back and forth adding more humor, turning the jokes into sothing grotesque, with everyone laughing until they were out of breath.
No one would discuss sad things.
Palr didn’t know what Hart was afraid of.
"Looks."
Aimou’s voice sounded, she stood beside Hart, gently stroking him, smoothing out his ssy fur like petting a big dog.
"Just like I once was, the strange glances of others, the different body, not fitting into society... this is what Hart fears."
Hart’s beastly appearance was well known within the Field Operations Departnt. Everyone there was already used to it, allowing Hart to greet others comfortably, chatting about recent events as if he were still an ordinary person.
But outside the Order Bureau, things were different. If Hart walked down the street, people would see him as a fine doll, if he opened his massive mouth, they would scream in terror.
Hart could no longer fit back into the world he once knew, ever since he beca a beast, he rarely left the Order Bureau, imprisoning himself in that world, even though he did nothing wrong.
Everyone beca silent in unison, Aimou affectionately ruffled Hart’s face, hoping to share his pain, but she knew she was helpless.
Ewen picked up the dice, handing it to Bologue, "If we draw the Wish Card, it can get us out of here."
Canary raised doubts, "Not to ntion whether we can draw that card; who can guarantee that anyone would make such a wish after getting it?"
"I will take everyone away," Bologue took the dice, "as for the reason...I don’t like to explain myself, I prefer action."
Palr and Aimou didn’t speak; they stood by Bologue, they trusted Bologue, and Bologue trusted them, that was indisputable, the real division lay among Canary, Ewen, and Cinderella.
"I hope that I am a noble person; this ga should have only involved . Dragging you in is my responsibility."
Ewen said, "If I got that card, I’d wish for you to leave, while I continue the ga."
Palr didn’t understand, "Is immortality really that captivating to you?"
"I know what you are going to say, sothing about the cruelty of immortality," Ewen cited another story, "you tell a child about the terrors of fire, it won’t extinguish his curiosity. Only when he is burned by the fla will he truly understand your words."
Bologue scrutinized Ewen, "Are your words trustworthy?"
"That depends on you."
Ewen looked Bologue straight in the eye without any hint of retreat, "A noble person wouldn’t claim they are noble; repeating it endlessly would be sheer hypocrisy... It sounds paradoxical, but I really do want to be a noble being."
Although an author, Ewen wasn’t good at defending himself. On the contrary, due to long-term solitude, Ewen was quite inarticulate at tis, sotis stumbling over words or even forgetting them when anxious.
In this regard, Ewen was sowhat similar to Bologue, both of them would forcefully state their stance and leave the rest to action.
Bologue then looked at Canary, Bologue didn’t trust Canary; to be precise, he trusted the person to so extent but not Canary’s existence itself.
It sounds awkward to say, but reviewing Bologue’s experiences made the doubt obvious.
Bologue believed he wasn’t controlled by the Devil, yet he always ended up indirectly aiding the Devil, making it hard to gauge whether Canary was in such a state.
Ewen felt he pulled everyone into the Joyful Garden, yet Canary also had a ticket, and Canary felt she accidentally dragged others into the mire too.
But is that really the case? Was this coincidence deliberately orchestrated by the Devil?
If so, what was the Devil’s purpose? Who was the Joyful Garden intended for, Canary, Ewen, or perhaps Bologue himself?
Bologue turned his gaze to the last person, Cinderella, seated obediently on the chair. She wasn’t directly involved in the slaughter against the Demon, yet her body was stained with blood.
Due to both being Alchemists and Aimou’s own combat skills, Aimou briefly instructed Cinderella on weapon usage, now Cinderella toyed with a Dagger, fantasizing about piercing a monster’s throat with it.
Bologue tried to suspect Cinderella, yet upon noticing this, Bologue realized he knew very little about Cinderella.
An image of a cold, cent cast shell room erged in his mind.
Bologue didn’t ask questions but raised his hand to roll the dice. External pressures ca from demons and even Devils, internally were the fallen Hart and the wishes unknown to the others.
The dice landed on the board with a crisp clatter, rotating and integrating point values into an advancent number, the Dawn cruised over most of the wilderness with the supply point within reach.
Bai Ou waved multiple slender arms ford from blood, grasping the deck to hand over to the others, enabling Bologue to draw a card first.
This ti Bologue still drew Event Card: Calm Monts, Bai Ou narrated simultaneously, "Nothing happened; peaceful monts are as precious as gold."
Palr drew a card, "Event Card: Undetermined Fortune."
Bai Ou’s tone turned strange, as if the event shouldn’t happen, "A wave of inexplicable fortune descended."
Cinderella glanced at the rulebook, adding on, not all players like Palr knew the effects of all the cards.
"Players gain temporary luck; the success judgnt range expands in the next few turns."
Luck, an unpredictable factor, was applied in the ga through changes in point requirents. Expanding the success range allowed Palr more ease in rolling great success.
Palr suddenly laughed, the perpetually unlucky persona drawing fortune felt like a dark humorous joke, previously Palr could have joked about it lightly, easing the mood, but now he couldn’t bring himself to do so.
A strong unease crept into Palr’s heart, he began to understand Gold’s words, this damned ga would shatter your most vulnerable side.
The various current happenings brought a deadly sense of familiarity, reminding Palr of the day he nearly died and almost lost Church.
This was bad.
Upcoming draws yielded positive events, but these did little to mitigate the pressing situation, until it was Ewen’s turn to draw. Ewen drew a card from the blood-stained pile, and as the card was flipped, sharp fangs erged from the card’s imagery, biting into Ewen’s finger.
Cinderella reacted swiftly, stabbing out with the Dagger, pinning the card to the ground, and from within, a shrill wail erupted as a grotesque monster roared continuously.
"Disaster Card: Savage Calamity."
Bai Ou narrated, with heavy, powerful footsteps echoing from the back of the train, blood-laden air surging against the wind, like a scent exuded from countless accumulating corpses.
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