Raising the key imbued with peculiar power in his hand, Bologue then realized that this key had also been affected to so extent, with nurous scratches appearing on the surface. However, Bologue paid no mind to it and, as usual, inserted it into the lock, turning the doorknob.
...
"Did you hear? The Order Bureau has been quite active recently."
Serey, heavily drunk, lay on the bar counter, while Wei’Er sat atop his head, her fluffy tail incessantly brushing against his nose.
"Ah... Achoo!"
Serey sneezed mightily, sitting up straight as Wei’Er gracefully leaped off his head and landed smoothly on the bar counter, her black cat fur floating to and fro.
Wei’Er licked her cat paw, "It’s said to be related to the King’s Secret Sword."
"Anyway, it has nothing to do with us."
The sneeze left Serey dizzy; he felt sowhat cold and stood up, intending to return to his room to sleep.
Wei’Er said, "Sooner or later, it will be related to us."
Serey detected the deep aning in her words, piquing a bit of interest, he retorted, "What do you an?"
"Nearby disputes."
"You know, we don’t get involved in those, we are all retired characters."
"I concede that point, but what about you? Can you hold back?"
Wei’Er stepped forward, her soft cat paw landing on Serey’s hand. She continued along Serey’s arm until her cat eyes were nearly pressed against Serey’s scarlet eyes.
"Olivia."
Wei’Er ntioned a na that made Serey uneasy.
"You’re hiding here, yet your thoughts linger on her; that’s not good, Serey."
Serey’s expression turned cold, "I don’t want to talk about this."
"Alright then."
Wei’Er leaped back onto the bar, tilting her head; the image of Serey’s depressed post-hangover deanor reflected in her cat eyes.
"I must admit, Serey."
Wei’Er suddenly spoke words incomprehensible to Serey, "You’ve certainly got a handso visage."
Despite years of indulgent drunkenness, Serey’s face remained handso. When others show a similar despondent look, it rely made them seem down and out, but Serey’s appearance evoked a hint of pity, like a downtrodden noble scion, promising a fortune if only you’d lend a hand.
"Back when I was still a person, I don’t think I ever encountered soone like you," Wei’Er’s words grew more dangerous, "Wow, a Night Race Lord indeed."
Serey suddenly sobered up, his body leaning backward, directly hitting the wine rack, causing the bottles to shake and produce a crisp sound.
"Damn, I almost forgot what kind of person you were before."
Serey said with lingering fear. Wei’Er in the past could be described as capable of wreaking havoc on a nation.
Regrettably, Serey’s knowledge of Wei’Er ca only from stories, never having seen her true form. Now, she was just a black cat.
"So have you forgotten what kind of person you were before?"
Wei’Er’s words pierced like a sword, causing Serey’s wandering thoughts to die down once again.
The silence didn’t last long as they both heard the noise coming from the wine cellar, exchanging glances. It was dayti, and the Undying Club usually had no outsiders.
"Is it a mouse?"
Wei’Er said as she jumped off the bar, only to hear a piercing scream coming from the wine cellar a few seconds later.
...
According to usual practices, the Undying Club was always lifeless during the day, with almost everyone asleep, only coming to life after nightfall.
But now, with the sun yet to set, the Undying Club was bustling with noise.
"Oh my god, it’s disgusting, can Wei’Er co?"
"Shut up, hurry up and get to it, chop it down."
In the dim wine cellar, Serey gripped the grievance fang, his face full of resistance, while the figure wedged halfway into the wall, flesh intermingling with bricks, kept urging loudly.
"Hurry up!"
"Alright, alright!"
Serey shouted, cutting down with a single sword stroke to sever Bologue’s half-trapped body from the wall, blood spilling everywhere, and the flesh caught in the wall was quickly devoured by the Void Realm of the Undying Club, the wall restoring to a smooth finish, while Bologue lay on the ground, with blood and flesh completely missing below his thigh.
Serey said, "I feel like I’m going to puke."
Wei’Er stood on a nearby wine barrel, unabashedly saying, "I thought you’d be lying on the ground, licking his blood."
"Rather than that, could soone help up first?"
Bologue struggled in the blood pool, his whole body sending waves of twisted agony, realizing he should have expected it; the Key of the Crooked Path showed damage, so Curved Path Shuttling would most likely also have issues.
Luckily, the overlap with the wall wasn’t much, otherwise the Void Realm enveloping the Undying Club would likely have instantly crushed him.
Freshly out of the hospital only to return again wasn’t what Bologue wanted, not to ntion, did these Undead truly have the ability to recover him from the Void Realm?
Serey and the others were rely tenants at the Undying Club, with no one knowing the real owner. But in a long-ago conversation, Bologue and Serey speculated about Sai Zong, this enigmatic Undead obsessed with dressing as a dog, hiding secrets far beyond what anyone imagined, possibly knowing sothing.
Now Sai Zong had left the Undying Club, his activities unknown, and Serey showed no intention to search; for the Undead, disappearing for decades was quite normal.
After a bloody handling, Bologue commanded the Deceitful Snake Scale Liquid, slender silver tendrils unfolded, making him resemble a giant spider.
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