"Then why are you doing this?"
Bologue noticed the doubt, "Your work is not yet finished, if you died, it would beco incomplete."
Erwin Flesher.
As the conversation deepened, the blurry figure in Bologue’s eyes gradually beca clearer.
Bologue said, "I think you should be soone who pursues perfection in your work."
Erwin took out another identical draft and handed it to Bologue, "Precisely because I pursue perfection, I must do this."
"If you’ve been following my news, you should know, this new book will be my... autobiography? An autobiographical fantasy novel."
Erwin seed a bit embarrassed when he ntioned this, feeling that only noble and admirable people deserve autobiographies. Writing one for himself seed sowhat vain and arrogant.
"Fantasy is just the external rhetoric. Actually, all the content is real," Bologue picked up the hefty draft, "all adapted from real events."
Erwin reiterated, "That’s right, adapted from real events."
Bologue could guess the content of the draft; it would be the life experiences of Erwin, with elents of his pursuit of the Extraordinary World woven into fantasy, like when he wrote the ’Night Hunter,’ replacing it with another fantasy world.
A work intertwined with reality and truth, it would interpret Erwin’s entire life...
Suddenly, Bologue understood why it was just a draft, "Your journey to immortality, that’s the true content of your new book."
"I’m not even sure if I can really achieve immortality, and even if I fail, whether I can return alive."
Erwin slowed his speech, in the large library, he seed like a storyteller, his slightly hoarse voice making people feel at ease, along with the story he described, evoking a sense of the passage of ti.
"So I pre-wrote an ending for this book... I don’t like this ending, it’s sothing I fantasized about, not real."
Erwin’s pursuit of reality wasn’t just reflected in his behavior and actions but also in his stories.
"For God’s sake, you’re telling you’re doing this not just for immortality but also to write a book!"
Palr reacted, for a mont not knowing how to judge Erwin, whether to call him crazy or a lunatic, but from any perspective, Palr thought it was kind of cool.
Diving deep into the Extraordinary World, dancing with the Devil, participating in this insane board ga, Erwin wasn’t just doing it for immortality but also to write a book.
Palr muttered, "Is this considered collecting materials?"
"I guess so."
Erwin laughed heartily and continued, "Only after we’ve experienced all this, when I write this adventure on paper, my work can truly be complete and reach perfection."
The always-silent Canary asked, "What if you fail?"
"Then it’ll just be a failure," Erwin said nonchalantly, "at least I took action."
Erwin patted Bologue’s shoulder, "Take a look, Bologue, all your questions about will be answered in this draft."
Similar drafts were on many shelves, and Erwin handed a copy to everyone. The bloody massacre and the crazy exhibition ended, and the plot suddenly turned to a work-sharing session. Everyone found a comfortable spot, starting to read Erwin’s story before entering dreamland.
To be precise, everyone present was Erwin’s reader; for them, this was a good opportunity for spiritual relaxation.
Palr propped Hart up, using him as a pillow, nestled in the corner, nervously and excitedly flipping through the draft. Even before finishing the first page, Palr began to feel sad for Hart, who didn’t know what he was missing.
In the quiet, Erwin stood by the vine-covered floor-to-ceiling window, looking out at the vast daisy flower sea. The orange-red glow hit the flower sea, and as the breeze swayed, they seed about to ignite.
Erwin took a deep breath, he hated fake things but had to admit, this fake library relaxed him.
"I initially had little hope for the journey to immortality."
When Bologue opened the draft and approached Erwin, Erwin suddenly began to speak, "But how can I say, it’s like a whisper constantly lingering in the heart, echoing endlessly in my mind."
Erwin gently stroked the cold glass, "I never thought I could return here again, though here is not real."
Bologue ignored Erwin, rapidly flipping through the draft, trying to gather enough useful information. At this mont, Canary followed, directly speaking.
"Erwin, you don’t need to bet everything on the Joyful Garden."
Erwin asked back, "Why?"
"Since you know the Extraordinary World well, you should know, the Joyous Desire Witch isn’t the only one who can grant you immortality."
Canary stated her purpose directly, "The Devil I serve, he’s different from the Joyous Desire Witch, he cherishes all art and respects romantic poets..."
"Belphegor, I rember that na."
Erwin interrupted Canary, "When I left Daisy Castle, the first stranger I t was him, I didn’t expect he was actually a Devil."
In the fires of Free Port, Erwin received help from Belphegor. Just as Canary said, Belphegor left a good impression on Erwin. If given a chance, he wouldn’t mind chatting with Belphegor again.
"Then you should understand, immortality, he can grant it to you too, perhaps even better than the Joyous Desire Witch’s."
Canary didn’t plan to let Erwin go, recruiting other poets was precisely one of her duties. Now it seed, Erwin was undoubtedly the most suitable candidate; he was born to be a poet.
"How will he grant it?" Erwin showed so interest, "If I just shout loudly, he’ll co to us, and if I give him my soul, he’ll grant immortality and rescue us from this Purgatory?"
Erwin laughed as he spoke, not taking Canary’s suggestion seriously, instead treating it as a joke.
After speaking, Erwin looked at Bologue, as if consulting his opinion.
Bologue shook his head, "Devils cannot directly interfere with reality, even if he cos to save us, it’ll rely on the force present in reality, and moreover, we’re inside the Joyful Garden, the Joyous Desire Witch won’t let him have his way."
Canary was montarily speechless, "You..."
"I need to surrender my soul to beco immortal, is that it?" Erwin asked, but before Canary could answer, he began to talk to himself, "That’s not good, I don’t want to easily give up my soul, that’s not what a noble person should do."
"Then how do you want to do it?"
Canary was amused by Erwin’s words, realizing Erwin was an incredibly greedy guy who desired immortality but didn’t want to surrender his soul.
Just a soul, what a bargain, even Bai Ou hadn’t received such an honor despite begging for so long.
"Haven’t we discussed that plan?" Erwin described his whimsical idea, "First get a Wish Card, let you leave here, then I’ll find a way to get another one and wish for immortality."
"Do you think it’s easy?"
Listening to Erwin speak as if what he had to do was as simple and random as going downstairs to buy sothing, Canary began to doubt whether she had heard wrong.
Erwin paused for a mont, then laughed again, asking Canary.
"If you were a climber facing an almost insurmountable peak, would you accept the Devil’s help to go straight to the summit?"
Erwin imdiately gave his answer, shaking his head, "No, that’s too boring, writing it in a book would definitely get criticized, just like Deus ex machina."
Canary realized she couldn’t persuade Erwin, she was never good at persuading others, and for that, Canary shook her head—toward the person who only existed in her line of sight.
Belphegor sat on the stairs of the large library, he nodded slightly, not looking at Canary but flipping through the book in his hands. He noticed a particular passage and suddenly understood why Asdemor was so confident in this bet.
The library was quiet, apart from the sound of pages turning, Erwin’s muttering could be faintly heard.
"It’s the process that matters most..."
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