Endless Debt-Chapter 801 - 261: Writing Reality

"Bologue, I rarely open up to people, perhaps due to my reclusive nature, or maybe because my solitary life keeps me away from others.

I think what I’m about to say should be considered a confession...perhaps, let’s just treat it as a confession."

Ewen, with bloodshot eyes, pressed his hands onto the typewriter, his fingers constantly striking the keys. His fingertips were blood-soaked, broken nails embedded in flesh, each collision with a key bringing a sharp pain, yet Ewen seemed oblivious to it all, his gaze steadfastly fixed on the paper, focused on his writing.

"The game hasn’t ended; on the contrary, it’s proceeding in ways we can’t imagine.

Yes, just like our lives, nothing ends until the moment of death.

I don’t know how to describe what I’m experiencing now, it’s...it’s like the story and reality have overlapped, just like on the Dawn, but that felt more like a game, and now it feels like a transforming ’reality.’"

A breeze slipped through the window gap, rustling the pages with a leaf-like sound, melodious and graceful, echoing through the grand library, reaching Ewen’s ears, as if he were in a dense forest.

Like being watched by a tiger hidden in the bushes, Ewen paused his typing, his eyes sunk deeply, the skin around them turning ashen as if he hadn’t slept for nights.

Footsteps came from afar; Ewen knew who was coming. He quickly hid the letter he was typing, and inserted his unfinished manuscript back into the typewriter.

The manuscript had grown by several pages since before, the black ink mingled with a dark red hue, the letters seeming to possess a unique magic power, slowly writhing at first glance, inducing a bizarre dizziness and nausea in the observer.

It seemed like Ewen wasn’t writing his own story, but some evil manuscript, each page woven with blasphemous language, constructing mad curses and witchcraft.

No one knows when, but sunlight has long ceased to grace this castle; damp mold grows rampantly in the corners, alongside those vine tendrils, creeping through the cracks in the bricks, pushing through the soil, penetrating the castle, as large swathes of vines envelop the massive structure like countless dancing tentacles.

"Darkness is devouring this world."

Ewen quickly struck a key, printing a line of text onto his manuscript.

Like a prophecy, as Ewen wrote, the external darkness deepened, with no starlight visible, as if Daisy Castle had been severed from the world.

Ewen lifted his head, through the glass dome covered in leaves and dust, he saw the dense vine tendrils like a snake swarm, cracks spreading across the glass, seemingly unable to hold for much longer. Ewen could anticipate the scene where, at some instant, the vines would breach the glass, invade the castle, devouring all living things.

The footsteps grew closer; she must be wearing exquisite high-heeled shoes, their soles striking the marble, echoing crisply in the silent castle.

She made no effort to hide her presence, believing Ewen had nowhere to run.

She arrived at the grand library door, politely knocking to signify her entrance, upon hearing the sound, Ewen halted his work, emerging from a work state, as the fingertip pain stung his nerves belatedly, and he saw the blood oozing from under the typewriter, dripping down like melting wax.

"Are you tired?"

The woman approached Ewen with a fruit platter filled with various cut fruits, placing it on the workbench, standing behind Ewen, her hands gently massaging his shoulders to relieve tension.

"How much longer until you finish?"

The woman leaned closer to Ewen, her warm breath brushing his ear, the scent of flowers overpowering the blood scent, then she saw fleeting beautiful visions.

"I...I don’t know."

Ewen stared at the blank page in the typewriter, his story unfinished, uncertain how to conclude.

"Then keep writing," the woman smiled, "didn’t you say this would be a true, autobiographical story? Meaning you’ll write down all the stories you’ve lived...what are you waiting for?"

The woman embraced Ewen’s neck intimately, cheek to cheek, whispering warmly, but Ewen felt as if a poisonous snake had wrapped around his neck.

Raising his stiff hand, Ewen mechanically typed, writing all his experiences into the book.

"We’re unsure if we’ve escaped the nightmare, but from my experience now, clearly, I haven’t...I couldn’t escape the King of Demons’ control."

Asmodeus gazed at the text, laughing, knowing the King of Demons referred to herself.