Endless Debt.

Chapter 243 Moody

Burrog called to the Aether, tried to cast iron armor around himself, ready for battle, but this time the Aether did not answer him.

A strong sense of crisis rose in his heart, and Bologo tried to pull out the jackknife and claw hammer from his waist, but now he can't even do this kind of action, his body is completely frozen in place, unable to move .

A bright light fell from the top of the head, it did not shine on the ground, but on the wooden floor, the footsteps continued to approach, and a blurred figure gradually appeared in front of his eyes, and finally he stopped at the edge of the light, Boluo Ge could only see a pair of shiny leather shoes that had been polished.

"Meet you again, Mr. Lazarus."

A familiar voice sounded, white gloves flicked in the dimness, and Bologo sat back suddenly. He didn't fall, but sat firmly on the chair.

The overhead lights brightened, dispelling the darkness until Burrog could see the maddened comer clearly.

"The tyrant..." Looking at the strange figure, Bologo whispered.

"It's good to see you again."

With a smile in his voice, the tyrant sat opposite Bologo, looking at Bologo's blood-stained body, and he continued.

"You look bad, do you need help? The kind that doesn't cost you."

"Really?" Burrog smiled, "Are you really so kind?"

"If you just help you, you will help me indirectly." The tyrant said frankly.

Bologo didn't reply immediately, but looked around, just as he had met the tyrant before, he was in a strange space, where the tyrant was the only ruler.

"So... you've got something to gain from this mess," Borrog said.

"Of course." The tyrant nodded.

"What I will do next will help you, but because my state is too bad, I may not be able to finish that thing, so you choose to help me."

"Yes."

As if knowing what Burrog was thinking, the tyrant raised his feet and put his hands on his knees.

"The power of choice is yours, Mr. Lazarus, you can accept my help to complete the win-win situation for you and me.

You can ruin my plan too... as long as it fails, but will you do it? "

Another ray of light fell, illuminating Palmer who was lying on the ground, and the blood pooled under his body, spreading continuously until it reached Burogo's feet.

"Or, are you willing to fail? Just give up the victory to others."

Another light fell, and the container was placed on the base like a work of art.

Burrog fell silent, his condition was very bad, and Aimu couldn't provide him with a steady stream of ether. It must be admitted that under these successive battles, even experts were in a desperate situation.

He can't just sit back and watch Palmer die, and he can't allow the heart of immortality to be taken away by TEDA, and there are rotten roots all over the ground...

"What do you want to do, tyrant?"

Burlogo questioned, "What kind of role are you playing here?"

"Me? Mr. Lazarus, you need to know one thing."

The tyrant let out bursts of laughter, "I, the devils, have no position to speak of."

"Everything I do is simply chasing value."

"Value?" Bologo couldn't understand, "Isn't the value you got enough?"

"Enough? But not enough. I am a greedy person. Unfortunately, my desire for value will never be satisfied."

"What about the auction? This sacrifice to you has been messed up. Aren't you angry?" Bologo said.

"Screw it?" The tyrant said meaningfully as if he heard a joke, "Is it really screwed up?"

Burrog froze.

"No, Mr. Lazarus, not only has it not been messed up, but it is going on very smoothly? Look, the light that you shine in the midst of death and suffering..."

The tyrant's body trembled, not from fear, but from excitement.

"I hope you can understand one thing, sometimes we are not hostile, but can cooperate," the tyrant calmed down, "although it sounds like dancing with wolves."

The tyrant suddenly appeared in front of Bologo. He held up Bologo's jaw and stared at Bologo's blue eyes, as if he could see the soul hidden under the body through the boundary between reality and reality.

"You have to admit one thing. God will not help you in a desperate situation. The only person who can reach out to you is me, the devil you spurned."

What he narrated was very calm, but when it fell into the ears of Bologo, it was full of temptation, awakening the deepest original sin in nature.

Before Bologo could respond, the tyrant disappeared and reappeared on a chair not far away.

Burrog stared at the crazy figure, the lights went out one by one, and he was left sitting opposite the tyrant in the darkness.

Taking deep breaths repeatedly, like some kind of inner struggle, but fortunately the struggle didn't last long, Burlogo had a new idea, a bad idea, but he was willing to give it a try.

"Are you... interested in my soul?" Burrog asked suddenly.

"Oh? What a surprising proposal."

The tyrant's mood rarely fluctuated slightly, and his words were full of surprise.

"It's a pity that I can't take your soul away yet."

"Why?" Burrog asked curiously, "Because your soul is broken?"

"No... I have nothing to give you, Mr. Lazarus, you don't have a wish for me to fulfill now, how can I take your soul away?"

The tyrant waved his hand and said helplessly. It can be heard that he is also extremely eager for Bologo's soul. Regardless of whether Bologo is related to the person he is looking for, Bologo's soul is extremely valuable to him, even if It's a broken soul.

"And what's next?" Burrog asked.

"This is mutual help. I helped you, and you helped me. We are clear."

Bologo lost his mind slightly, and repeatedly looked at the tyrant's words, "If I didn't know it in advance, it would be really difficult for me to connect you with something like the devil."

The tyrant behaved hardly like a devil, at most like a... unpopular businessman.

"The devil... my brothers and sisters are all bound by different desires, which also leads us to have different personalities. Some people are so arrogant that they can't communicate at all, and some people are very angry, let alone communicate. All creatures that approach him will be devoured by his anger, and there are..."

The tyrant let out a burst of laughter.

"Devils are like this, freewheeling, million-dollar, moody...Fortunately, I am the most rational and communicable among them."

"I can see it," Bologo nodded, affirming, "You are more like a businessman than a devil."

The tyrant laughed again, and he took Burlogo's words as a compliment and recognition for himself.

"But why did you suddenly bring up your own soul?" the tyrant asked, "You don't look like someone who would take the initiative to sell your soul."

"I... I am like you, I am also looking for someone, he should be one of your brothers and sisters, and it is he who took my soul," Burrogo said, "I want to find him. "

"Sacrificing another part of the soul, just to find him... It doesn't sound like a good deal." The tyrant smiled.

"No, I just want to know what kind of reaction he will make after I am taken away by another devil," Burrog said indifferently, "There are not many opportunities to tease the devil."

"Haha, that's interesting, Mr. Lazarus."

The tyrant was amused by Bologo, and it is unknown whether he is willing to cooperate with Bologo's crazy idea.

After the calm, Bologo looked at the tyrant and asked again, "So can you foresee the future?"

"Foresee the future?"

"You seem to be able to see what happened next, that's why we had this conversation, didn't you?" Burlogo asked.

"It's not predicting the future, it's just that everything is going according to the script I wrote, but the script is a script after all, if the actors don't cooperate, there will always be many variables that will interfere with the direction of the plot."

"Sounds like a lunatic entertaining himself," Burrogo quipped. "Are you making a movie by yourself?"

"Huh? Amuse yourself, I like that word."

"Then... what if someone finally breaks the ending you set? Will you feel angry about it?" Bologo chatted with the tyrant.

"No, on the contrary, I would be very pleased."

"why?"

"Few people can break their own script and resist their own ending...or, in other words, break free from the story and smash the ending that fate entrusted to him."

Rather than saying it is a script, it is better that it is a fate that is secretly influenced and manipulated by the devils.

"Those who break free from fate are the embodiment of lofty values."

Burrog fell silent, as if he was thinking about the information revealed in the words of the tyrant, and then he remembered the conversation between Geoffrey and himself when he first really understood the devil.

"You are interfering with the progress of the world, constantly correcting history to what you want."

What Bologo noticed, he didn't know whether he had guessed it, or if the tyrant wanted to reveal it to him on purpose.

"Resist fate, smash the shackles... Those who can shake the direction of history are the ones who have value, and they are the ones you devils want to hunt and kill."

In the face of Bologo's words, the tyrant did not make any answer, but just let out a meaningless laugh.

Bologo knew that he couldn't ask anything, instead he talked about something else, and he looked at this strange space.

"In your land, you're omnipotent, aren't you?"

"You can understand that."

When I saw the tyrant before, I still needed certain rituals to call him, but in the tyrant's territory, he seemed to be no longer bound, he could appear as he wanted, and even lowered his protection to everyone.

The physical restraints had gone before, and Burlogo stretched vigorously, like a warm-up before a big fight.

"Then before I leave here and work hard for us to help each other, I have some small requests."

"for example?"

Burrog thought for a while and asked tentatively.

"A glass of orange juice?"

The tyrant was stunned for a second, and then laughed again. He snapped his fingers, and a glass of orange juice appeared out of thin air in Burrog's hand.

Bologo took a sip, and the taste was no different from the orange juice in his memory. He even said that the tyrant kindly chilled it for him.

"Anything else?" asked the tyrant again.

"Huh? Let's have some music."

A ray of light fell, revealing a record player in the darkness, and if Burlogo was right, it was the one at home.

"Yes, Not Bad."

Bologo stood up slowly, and at this time the tyrant appeared in front of him, and he suddenly stretched out his hands, holding Bologo's head tightly with both hands.

The cables on the face began to twist and split, revealing the scarlet eyes, and they all looked at Burrog's pupils in unison.

"You... are of extraordinary value."

The tyrant seemed to have spoken a spell, and he let go of his hands and merged with the darkness.

When the light came back on again, Bologo returned to the dark land. Everything just now seemed to be an illusion, but he still held a glass of orange juice in his hand.

There were bursts of coughing, and Bologo turned his head, only to see that Palmer's injury was healing at a speed visible to the naked eye, and at the same time, he was protected by a heavy ether.

Not only him, but also himself, the power from the tyrant sheltered Bologo.

(End of this chapter)