Endless Debt-Chapter 815 - 267: A Boring Life (3)
Bologue stood on the stalled tank as soldiers swarmed towards him like ants; it was at this moment that Bologue suddenly remembered the question he had pondered earlier.
How long has he truly spent in this Hell?
Bologue questioned himself and answered, "Perhaps... ten years?"
Ten years.
For an ordinary person, this is a despairing time scale, but for Bologue, it’s merely a somewhat harsh trial; long ago, in the endless darkness of the Black Prison, Bologue became accustomed to all of this.
Bologue never felt despair or pain; he only felt boredom and monotony during this prolonged slaughter.
Monotonous and tedious life.
Indeed, that’s how Bologue describes this torment that has lasted for ten years.
The first soldier clambered onto the tank, yet before he could launch an attack, Blade severed his head, followed closely by the second, third... countless others.
There’s no life more monotonous than this.
At least in the days of the Black Prison, Bologue had the time to ponder, to contemplate philosophical questions, but here, he’s merely passing the time.
Some might describe Bologue as having become a killing machine, but Bologue feels more like a factory assembly line worker; his job is to dispatch these enemies. No matter how thrilling the battle, after ten years, it becomes just an efficient task.
Just like slaughtering fish on the assembly line.
By now, Bologue is skilled in this; even by merely listening to the enemy’s cries, he can precisely swing the Blade, severing the sound that approaches from afar.
Sometimes, in this torment, Bologue would become disheartened; he’d miss Palmer’s cold jokes, miss the days of watching movies together, and he misses Aimou, who always asked silly questions. Bologue misses those silly questions and, if given the chance, would embrace her upon meeting again. 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖
Bologue also yearns to taste food once more, preferably with a glass of iced orange juice, and if possible, he’d like to have a good sleep.
Thinking this way, countless corpses piled up at the edge of the tank, circle after circle, like hills rising from the ground.
Such hills are abundant on the battlefield; once accumulated to a certain height, they collapse, with the amassed bodies leveling the earth, subsequently covered by yellow soil. Through Bologue’s efforts, in ten years, the horizontal height of this eternal battlefield should have risen by at least several meters.
There should be no more enemies; Bologue sat down on top of the vehicle, waiting for the next bugle call.
Bologue is a stubborn, tenacious person; he won’t concede... not even Ewen has conceded, so during his breaks, Bologue won’t just quietly contemplate; sometimes, he looks up and talks to the scorching sun.
"I won’t concede."
Bologue’s voice appears somewhat dry; in these ten years, he rarely spoke, almost as if he’s lost his ability to communicate.
"I seldom win," he added, "but eventually, I will win."
The sun dimmed down; it was its first anomaly in ten years, followed by the entire sky turning black, shadows engulfing the earth, enveloping Bologue as well.
Bologue wasn’t panicked by this; he waited quietly, until the sound of cracking glass echoed in the darkness, as if something was collapsing, then a faint light rose from the end of the dark.
For the first time in ten years, Bologue smiled.
"I’ve come to rescue you," Bologue mumbled to himself, "I’ve come to rescue all of you."
Bologue picked up Blade and walked towards the light; this protracted slaughter lasting ten years was over; now Bologue is headed towards another battle.
