In hindsight, Bologue’s first year on the job was terrible, the rising flas of anger nearly burned Bologue to ashes... They couldn’t burn Bologue to ashes, but they turned into a raging fire that would never extinguish, entwined around Bologue.
It was a past Bologue was reluctant to look back on, the hunt for man-eaters extended from the first year into the second, and it was in this second year that Bologue beca a Condenser and completed his revenge.
"We still haven’t figured out why the man-eater collected so many Philosopher’s Stones."
Bologue recalls, there aren’t many people he killed who remained in his mory, "Now another Evil Spirit has appeared, I don’t think he’s my copycat, on the contrary..."
"On the contrary, you think he’s slaying demons, like the man-eater, collecting souls?"
Palr put down the guitar and looked at Bologue like he was an idiot, "Demons don’t have souls, Bologue."
"Yes, demons don’t have souls..."
Of course, Bologue knew demons don’t have souls, but there was an inexplicable premonition that the other Evil Spirit must be doing sothing similar, sothing that made Bologue deeply uneasy.
"Alright, that part is my mistake, but I still think this matter is important."
Bologue continued, "Vika must know sothing, maybe he’s made a deal with that side, you know, the Tyrant never turns down a deal."
"What exactly are they conspiring?"
Bologue felt troubled, his fingers tapping the table repeatedly.
Despite the gloom, Bologue was sowhat excited; ever since he gained power and governed a territory, it was the first ti he encountered such an unsolvable case, he started to feel a sense of investigation, as the mysteries gradually unraveled, his mood soared with joy.
"Compared to these things..."
Palr glanced at the frost-covered window outside, "Want to join the Undying Club later?"
Bologue nodded, this ti he didn’t refuse Palr, after today, the third month would end too, he successfully conducted in-depth harvests of the three important areas of the Great Rift, it was ti for a holiday.
"Co to think of it, this year’s about to end."
Bologue sighed, "I’m about to enter my third year of work."
"Well, congratulations to you for working at this damn company for three years and not dying," Palr said with exaggerated expressions, "Oh, you can’t die, that’s great, they’ll use you until doomsday."
Bologue laughed cooperatively, putting all his notebooks back in the drawer, and stood up.
"And you, you also survived the year, any words to say?"
"I hope I can bring forward the retirent age by a few years."
This ti Bologue laughed out loud, when it cos to such topics, that’s always Palr’s wish, he could guess without Palr saying a word.
According to Palr, whenever he thought about having to work here for so long, he felt a sense of despair that was hard to dispel, and realizing that even after retiring, he’d have to take over Fuen’s work, this despair deepened.
"Honestly, I’d love to take a motorcycle trip."
Once when drunk, Palr, midst of vomiting, told Bologue, "With luggage, on a motorcycle, setting off from the Wind Source Highlands, along the Rhine River, crossing the Central Plains, and then over the cliff lands..."
Bologue didn’t hear the end of Palr’s travel story because halfway through, Palr fell into his vomit and fell asleep.
The sky darkened outside, the mbers of the Undying Club should just be waking up at this ti, Bologue put on a coat, and took out the Key of the Crooked Path, fiddling with it in his palm.
From Palr’s bedroom ca a clattering noise, Bologue waited patiently.
"You should be more humorous and romantic."
A familiar voice of advice rang in his ear, and since then Bologue tried to follow Ewen’s suggestion, striving to change himself.
The most obvious change was that in hunting demons, Bologue increasingly communicated with demons, telling cold jokes.
Bologue seed like a stand-up codian, with the demons as his audience; in Bologue’s view, if he could make the demons laugh with jokes in such a terrifying dangerous situation, then he must be interesting—in all senses.
But most of the ti, the demons couldn’t laugh, a few even cursed him, feeling insulted, wanting to storm up the stage and beat the actor.
They all ended up dead.
Sotis Bologue thought if he encountered one who could laugh, letting him go might not be bad, but unfortunately, facing Bologue’s Blade, no one could laugh, only thinking he was a crazed lunatic.
Bologue didn’t realize the problem, and began to think if one day, he could tell a joke that made a demon laugh out loud, he could count as humorous.
Besides, Bologue also started getting used to so social activities, like the Undying Club gatherings.
Palr finished dressing, while Bologue ensured the water and electricity were off and opened a void, after a brief fainting sensation, the familiar scent of wine filled his nostrils.
The two arrived sowhat early, the bar was empty except for them and the familiar, flamboyant bartender.
"You’re here early."
Serey saw them arrive and skillfully provided different drinks for them. Palr favored fine wines, but due to financial constraints could only afford cheap stuff, so any slightly upscale liquor could satisfy him, as for Bologue, it was even simpler.
Bologue seed quite fond of fruit juices or sweet drinks, he only needed orange juice, at most chilled, regardless of the season.
Sitting at the bar, Bologue looked up at Serey. Gone was the bronzed skin from before, not due to ti but because washing had removed the makeup.
Bologue couldn’t understand what Serey was thinking, his explanation being, "On rare holidays, one should have a sunny healthy look... Though I can’t sunbathe."
No need to try understanding what the Night Race Lord was thinking.
Months ago, after the reality shattered, Bologue had a brief unpleasant encounter with Serey, and after leaving the intact Daisy Castle, he saw Serey holding a parasol inside the defense line constructed by the Field Operations Departnt.
Serey had co for Ewen, but he was too late.
Serey didn’t see the sadness on Bologue’s face, mistaking it for post-battle fatigue, and annoyingly kept asking a never-ending string of bad questions.
The following events were straightforward.
Bologue was already grief-stricken, not to ntion having discovered the mystery of the Night Race at Wind Source Highlands earlier, he snapped Serey’s parasol, then Serey turned into a fireball, sprinting through the wilderness at a terrifying speed.
Thanks to Serey’s noble bloodline, he was quite fla-resistant, and afterward, it turned out the fire seed alarming, but it was rely superficial burns. Not to ntion, the Night Race’s recovery power was very strong.
"With high-purity bloodlines, the Night Race can make so moves under the sun’s burn."
Bologue obtained such intel, that even the scorching sun couldn’t specifically kill the Night Race.
Then ca the talks inside the Undying Club.
Serey, as always, with a smiling face, apologized to Bologue, while Bologue assertively inquired about the Dawn War, and the na that Serey had crossed out.
To this day, Bologue could vividly recall Serey’s change of expression then, the annoying smile disappearing instantly, replaced by coldness and seriousness, maybe his impression of Serey’s unseriousness was too deep, when such an expression surfaced, Bologue felt it didn’t fit.
That was the expression a Night Race Lord should have.
"We all have our own boundaries, don’t we? Bologue."
Bologue didn’t continue to pursue his questions, as it was unnecessary; he wouldn’t get anything anyway.
Everything was like nothing ever happened, the joy inside the Undying Club continued, like the endless lody and rising wine aroma.
Everything was so beautiful, like a dream nurtured in a bubble.
Serey liked indulging in such dreams, but Bologue knew that one day, the bubble would burst, and so would the dream.
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