Endless Debt-Chapter 914 - 40: Promotion Ceremony

"Bologue, you seem a bit tense."

"If you were lying here, you’d be just as tense as I am."

"Hmm? I do this often, haha, relax a little, don’t tense your muscles, let them loose."

"..."

"I said relax a little."

"I’ll try."

The light hit his face, almost occupying all of Bologue’s vision. Familiar faces wandered at the edge of his sight, but due to the light, they became dark silhouettes, hard to see clearly.

"It’s just a promotion ceremony, don’t be afraid."

A concerned voice sounded beside him, she used tweezers to pick up gauze, professionally wiping away sweat from Bologue’s forehead like a chief surgeon.

"Just? Just a promotion ceremony?" Bologue tried to look at the other person, but his head was already fixed in place, his vision limited, "Are you serious, Aimou?"

Bologue’s voice gradually rose, met by Aimou’s bursts of laughter. Bologue still tried to move but he was completely restrained now, like a lab rat on a surgical table, at the mercy of others.

After a few days of rest, the promotion ceremony for the Negative Power User finally came. Though the ceremony had yet to fully begin, Bologue’s unease had grown under Aimou’s laughter.

Bologue’s promotion was merely a side event, the true purpose of this was to explore the unknown Ethereal Realm, to uncover the secret of rising ether concentration and the Secret Source.

"This is a scientific expedition."

Mamo explained this.

In the darkness around him, clanging sounds echoed, the view rose as Bologue sensed a massive metallic structure completely enveloping him, like a crisscrossing rib cage wrapping the entire venue. Countless cables lay exposed on the ground, like thick arteries extending from internal organs.

To save time, the Alchemists had only conducted a simple setup of the ceremony site; everywhere was filled with a distinct industrial vibe. The start was imminent; Bologue could still hear the noise of angle grinders, sparks flying in the dimness.

Compared to the previous two meticulously arranged ceremonies, Bologue felt this seemingly important promotion ceremony was more like a last-minute, cobbled-together event.

Bologue seriously lacked a sense of security now.

"Check the power!"

"Monitor the ether concentration."

Belli’s voice came through the broadcast, directing others to perform pre-ceremony checks.

"Relax a bit."

Aimou brought a rack full of medicine bottles, picked up cotton to wipe Bologue’s wrist, burying the needle into his vein. Electrodes for detection were plastered onto Bologue’s chest, making him feel like a critically ill patient on the brink of death.

"From the design blueprint to the construction setup, our time was so tight that this was all we could manage."

Aimou spoke as she looked up; above Bologue hung a helmet with a bizarre shape, constructed entirely of black metal, with iron rods protruding from its surface. Bologue guessed it might be some kind of cranial locking device.

"Do you like those flowers?"

Bologue tried to find a topic to share the mental pressure at this moment.

"Not bad," Aimou said, "Quite unexpected."

Bologue said no more. It was Afeiya who helped him choose them.

"Did Afeiya help you choose them?"

As soon as the thought emerged, Aimou caught it, and Bologue asked, "Who told you?"

"Guessed," Aimou adjusted the handle, reducing the angle of the surgical table, "You don’t seem like someone who would choose flowers; these colorful things all look the same to you."

"Alright, you guessed right."

This was something Bologue couldn’t deny; he didn’t understand flowers or the so-called language of flowers. His only contact with flowers was that burning sea of flames.

Later, Bologue learned the language of daisies is hidden love.

Bologue sometimes thought about going back to Daisy Castle for a visit; it had become the property of the Order Bureau, completely sealed now, like a museum recording the passage of time.

"It’s really quite poignant."

Whenever Bologue thought of these, he felt an indescribable feeling inside.

Afeiya taught Bologue a lot about flowers, but since this knowledge wasn’t important, and wanting to relax his mind, he ultimately didn’t retain much, but at least gained a rough understanding.

"Not bad," Aimou repeated again, "Not bad, Bologue."

"It’s a gift to apologize with." Bologue still remembered forgetting Aimou regarding this matter.

Aimou wasn’t planning to let Bologue off easily, "Then this gift is a bit insufficient."

Bologue asked, "What else do you want?"

"Hmm... haven’t decided yet."

"Haven’t decided; that wish sounds really grand," Bologue murmured, "feeling like you could wish for anything."

"Will you refuse me then?"

Aimou must be smiling; though he couldn’t see her face, Bologue could hear that familiar laugh, a rare comfort in this cold and oppressive environment.

"No, I won’t," Bologue said, "I’m a man of my word."

"Alright."

Aimou said this while placing more equipment on Bologue’s body, his lower half now seemingly devoured by a metallic monster, the frame tightly binding his legs. As the machines pressed down, Bologue felt a sharp pain as several needles pierced his skin.

Bologue started to be grateful he was an Undead; the psychological pressure wasn’t as great – feeling that anyone else would probably be yelling by now.