Endless Debt-Chapter 749 - 224: Within the Story [Thanks to the leader "Hammer of Gratitude," additional update]
The hunt for the grotesque, the journey to annihilate the night.
At this moment, the chaotic mix of information was connected, and Bologue’s gaze swept across each player’s face. Joyful Garden had purposefully captured them, bringing those who previously participated in the board game onto the train, continuing this game here.
Board game, yes, that damned board game. Bologue thought no one would use such an absurd method to screen the list, but when he realized that the Devil had created all this, it no longer seemed strange.
Under the pouring of blood, a delicately vivid sandbox map emerged. Bologue could clearly see a breeze brushing across the terrain, stirring the fine hair-like wild grass. The scarlet blood began to become transparent, transforming into endless waves pounding the coast repeatedly. Sand and pebbles rolled, falling off the board, turning into fine dust.
This was no longer a model. It seemed more like a real geographic terrain had been miniaturized and sealed on the round table.
Bai Ou opened his mouth, and a bloody, skinless arm reached out from his throat. The hand opened, holding a small train locomotive. Then, a bloodied hand extended from below his skull, grabbing the train model and placing it at the starting point on the board.
It was just a model, yet the light at the front of the locomotive shone, and thick smoke with sparks rose, accompanied by a low hum from the engine beneath its small build.
The bloody arm retracted back into Bai Ou’s throat, then he began to cough violently, as if his throat led to another space. One after another, pieces stained with blood threads were spat out, while stacks of cards condensed from the gathered blood were placed beside the board.
The thin blood-formed arms increased in number. Bai Ou, like a spider nailed in place, used the slender limbs of blood to distribute the pieces.
The piece placed in front of Bologue was different from the gray model piece he used before. Now, this piece was meticulously painted with an extremely vivid appearance. More importantly, as the piece landed, blood seeped out below it, subsequently condensing into an Identity Card.
Swift Wolf Hunter, exactly the identity Bologue used before.
The others also received pieces representing their previously played roles in the game. Palmer received a piece for the Deceitful Cat Hunter, an assassin-like hunter proficient with firearms and daggers, adept at assassinating high-value targets according to the game’s setting.
Bai Ou seemed to see through Palmer’s mind; this was the role Palmer often played.
The game’s preliminary preparations finished, Bai Ou picked up a mask with black branches on a white background, placing it on his face. At this moment, he replaced Palmer, becoming the host of this game.
A slim, twisted arm reached towards Bologue. In its open hand lay a pitch-black twelve-sided die, engraved with numbers that glowed faintly, carrying some enigmatic power.
Bai Ou fell silent, remaining motionless, as if awaiting Bologue to take the die... Bologue did not pick up the die. He knew that once he picked up the die, it would signify the start of the game.
Bologue was unaware of what would happen once the game commenced. He needed to prepare before that.
In the silence, Canary spoke, "He’s not Bai Ou... at least not at the moment."
Canary was familiar with the manic Bai Ou, but now Bai Ou had completely lost his personal will, more like a vessel or tool, becoming part of the game.
Everyone else nodded in agreement with Canary’s view; such a matter was obvious. Bologue turned his gaze away from Bai Ou, looking at the person sitting across from him.
"Ewen... can you explain what’s going on?"
Bologue’s words left many confused. Ewen was just an ordinary person, both before and after boarding the train. He was supposed to be the least threatening one, yet from Bologue’s tone, it seemed as if Ewen was the main culprit of everything.
"I’m sorry for dragging you all into this."
Ewen sincerely apologized. When he was awoken by the knock on the door and saw Cinderella in the hallway, Ewen realized he had dragged innocent people into a dreadful event.
Ewen apologized again, "I’m sorry."
"Stop apologizing; the event has already occurred. What we need to do is make amends and do better."
Bologue had said this to Aimou to console the immature child. He was too busy to reproach Ewen now; he wanted to lead everyone out of this cursed place.
"What do you know?" Bologue caught onto a clue and continued, "Was your pursuit of Extraordinary knowledge just for this?"
Suddenly, Bologue understood. From Canary’s words, it was clear that tickets to Joyful Garden weren’t easy to come by, yet Ewen had one. Moreover, from his attitude, entering Joyful Garden seemed to be his goal.
Ewen remained silent, appearing hesitative or perhaps collecting his thoughts, to explain his tumultuous experiences to Bologue.
"What are you talking about?"
The others were puzzled, and Canary was especially baffled. She thought she brought others into Joyful Garden, not realizing it was just a coincidence.
Cinderella sat beside Ewen, having witnessed the weird and mad scenes under the waiter’s lead, just like Bologue and the others. She deeply realized the dreadfulness of this place.
The girl uncharacteristically quieted down, her gaze fixed on Ewen, contemplating his experiences and those strange adventures he had recounted.
"Eternal life."
Cinderella spoke, "You came here to seek eternal life."
Ewen looked at the girl in surprise, and instead of denying it, he nodded, "That’s right, I’m here to seek immortality."
Ewen hid that dirty little secret.
"I originally planned to come alone, but I didn’t expect to experience so much along the way, let alone bring you all."
Ewen felt guilty towards the others, and this was an absolutely genuine emotion.
All along, Ewen had yearned to be a noble person, but now he had led others into danger, causing him great pain.
"Is it only immortality?"
Ewen’s answer deeply disappointed Bologue, but it made sense. Ewen’s desires could only be this; he already had enormous wealth and acclaimed reputation, and the only thing that could move him now was endless life.
The others vaguely understood the cause and process of the events, relying on their professional skills, everyone stayed calm. Rather than complaining to each other, the most important thing now was to figure out a way to survive and leave.
Palmer was more affected; he was a genuine fanatic of Ewen. Ewen had fallen from the pedestal of worship, and without that brilliance, he was just an ordinary man obsessed with immortality.
"You know?" Palmer said, "I know an Undead, he’s also your reader, and he has the ability to turn others into Undead like him."
"He once said he wanted to turn you into Undead. We thought you’d refuse, and argued about it for a while."
Ewen apologized again, "Sorry to disappoint all of you."
Palmer shook his head, "It’s nothing, just suddenly realized that everyone is mere mortals... mortals with emotions and desires."
After the conversation, Bologue’s gaze returned to the dice in the blood.
"It seems, no matter what, we have to play a round first."
Bologue muttered to himself, reaching out to take the dice.
The instant the dice were exchanged, everything transformed dramatically.
The pitch black climbed up Bologue’s body, layer by layer covering and binding him. The strange feeling disappeared in a flash, and Bologue discovered his standard black-and-white uniform had vanished, replaced by a pitch-black coat.
Beneath the coat was chain armor tight to the body, a dagger at his waist, and a heavy sword bag hanging behind, filled with silver-plated longswords without guards.
At this moment, Bologue’s appearance was identical to the pawn he was playing, as were the others who transformed into their respective pawns, then the light suddenly dimmed.
Bologue was stunned, and at this moment, the hand holding the dice threw it uncontrollably. The dice hit the chessboard, bouncing out a number, and the others rolled dice in succession, adding the values together, converted into the number for Dawn’s movement.
Vaguely, Bologue heard the sound of a whistle coming from outside, while the same whistle sounded on the chessboard in front of him, and the two sounds overlapped, becoming sharp and piercing.
The Dawn on the chessboard began to move, steadily advancing to its designated position, and then a bloody arm picked up the deck of cards, allowing players to draw cards one by one.
Bologue heard many relieved sighs; it seemed everyone drew positive events, leaving only Bologue who hadn’t revealed his card. Under the others’ gaze, Bologue revealed the event card he had drawn.
The card’s image was filled with a grim, deformed face, not presented as a flat effect, but more three-dimensional, as if about to break through the two-dimensional boundary... It did!
The horrifying face let out a piercing roar, half a head forcibly squeezed out of the card’s frame, sharp teeth biting Bologue’s hand, tearing open gashes.
Bologue shook off the card, and it fell onto the chessboard, still gnawing and screaming.
Bai Ou picked up this event card, his tone deep and ancient, like an old storyteller.
"You are assaulted by Demons."
Terrifying monsters appeared out of nowhere on the chessboard, pouncing on the moving Dawn. Outside the chessboard, the spacious indoor space rapidly compressed, with metal explosions sounding, walls on both sides of the atrium cracking open to reveal train windows with pitch-black wilderness beyond.
Terrible pale arms filled the train windows, countless Demons squeezing against each other, gnawing and sucking blood, eerie howls coming from all directions, deafening, while dense footsteps sounded overhead. Through the gaps between the Demons, looking towards the distant wilderness, under the bright moonlight, more bloodthirsty figures followed the train like a pack of wolves.
Bologue’s gaze flickered for a moment, then he dove into his role, suddenly rising to draw his Sharp Sword, slicing off the head of a Demon, spraying a large splash of blood.
As Bologue brandished his sword, the others reacted too, with Hart swinging an Iron Hammer towards the Devil on the opposite side, and Palmer and Canary drawing their Short Knives to precisely sever the creeping limbs.
Even though they lost their Extraordinary Power, playing the role of Hunters within the story, the combat awareness still lingered within their hearts.
Ewen sat in place, still playing the role of the Poet, only this time he held a heavy book in his hands. Watching the Hunters battle, Ewen wrote a line of text.
They were both players above the game and characters below the story, blurring the boundary between reality and fiction, leaving only the frenzied train racing straight forward, piercing the night.
