Endless Debt.

With the support of Burrogo, Palmer stepped through the door with a trembling heart, his feet touched the solid ground, the fragrance of daisies flowed from the bookshelves, and the flickering lights warmed his heart face.

The big library is very quiet, and the pages exude an ancient and stale atmosphere. Irving walked through this familiar court room, brushed the spine of the book with his fingertips, and wiped away the dust between the gaps.

Following the path in his memory, Irving took out an old book, opened the pages, and wrote the stories that Irving had experienced in neat handwriting.

This is one of Irving's many diaries. Irving has always been in the habit of writing diaries. He needs something to prove the authenticity of his memories.

Irwin is sure that this is not his real Daisy Castle, but a false illusion simulated by the Happy Garden, but he did not expect that the Happy Garden can even imitate the things hidden deep in his memory.

Casually throwing the diary aside, Irving searched for the blanket and the medicine box according to the traces in his memory. In this huge castle, apart from the dungeon area, Irving spent most of his time in the large library. As for In other areas, Irwin let it be buried by dust and vines.

When Duddell came to interview him, he doubted whether the castle was inhabited. Large areas of vines were covered with bricks and stones, as if they had been abandoned a long time ago. Only the stained glass of the large library still floated softly. of light.

"what……"

Palmer let out a mournful sigh, and tears rolled in his eyes. Burlogo obviously didn't understand what Palmer was going through, so he put him on a chair beside him and turned around to drag Hart up.

With the help of Bologo, Hart was easily lifted up. The large library has a lot of space, and Hart has thick fur. Bologo laid him flat on the side.

Hart frowned, and his limbs twitched from time to time. The nightmare imprisoned him, and the torture would not stop for a moment.

Finding a suitable angle, Burlogo placed Gould's cards on the bookshelf so that he could just look down on several people.

Irwin found a blanket and handed it to several people, "There is no bed here, and I usually sleep here wrapped in a blanket."

"Is this your library and your workshop?"

Burrog took the blanket, and he noticed that there was a typewriter on the desk at the other end of the large library. Manuscript pages were piled up beside it. Some were blank like snow, and some were densely packed with words.

"I've always lived alone." Irwin looked up at the top of the big library. The glass dome was covered with dust and fallen leaves, dividing the light into countless fragments. "This castle is too big for me. So I usually just hang out here."

Burrog looked among the bookshelves, "Is it more than that?"

"There is also a dungeon under the castle, which is another studio of mine, where my research on the extraordinary world is basically carried out."

Irving spoke out his secret very frankly. At least in his opinion, there is no need to hide this part of the secret.

"Speaking of which, that was many years ago. I was young, well-known, and made some money."

Irwin talked about his past, "I acted very carefully. In order to avoid being discovered by others, I bought this castle that was about to be abandoned. At the beginning, my research did not make any progress, but one day, someone invaded my castle. …

I thought she was a bandit, but in reality, she was a demon. "

Irwin thought of that woman, she thought she could control herself, but after so many years, Irwin didn't even remember her name.She is just a tool, and the empty and empty body has no temptation for Irving.

"She was an opportunity. Through her, I learned a lot of knowledge. Then, like a perverted killer, I picked some demons to attack and imprisoned them in the dungeon."

Speaking of this, Irving suddenly laughed, "Actually, the story I wrote is an adaptation of real events."

"And after that?" Borrog asked, "You learned about the existence of immortality and pursued it."

"almost."

Irwin flipped through the bookshelf, took out a simple packaged first draft, and handed it to Palmer.

"what is this?"

Palmer took the first draft suspiciously and flipped through a few pages.

"The first draft of my new book, I haven't decided what to call it yet, you can take a look and give me some suggestions."

Irwin's attitude was as casual as if this wasn't the first draft of a new book at all, but a children's book for troubled kids.

For a moment Palmer felt the lightness of the first draft become extremely heavy, his hands began to tremble, and even his voice trembled.

Palmer was about to cry, "Are you... are you serious?"

"if not?"

Irwin continued, "Although I said that if I get the wish card, I will make a wish for you to leave, but this hope is still too slim."

Palmer took a deep breath. He understood what Irwin meant, but he resisted the urge to turn the page and put it aside.

"No... this is a kind of blasphemy!"

Palmer stood up excitedly, and Amy slapped him on the head, "Be honest."

Amyu cut the fabric from Palmer's wound and bandaged his wound. According to the rule book, when they woke up, they would be able to recover a lot and start a new round of hard work.

"It's okay, it's okay," Irving smiled, "I've said it all, this is just the first draft, if I can leave alive, I will have to revise it several times."

"Then why are you doing this?"

Burrog noticed something suspicious, "Your work is not yet finished, and if you die here, it will become incomplete."

Irving Fleischer.

As the conversation deepened, Mohu's figure gradually became clearer in Bologo's eyes.

"I think you should be a person who pursues perfection in your work," Burlogo said.

Irwin took out another draft that was exactly the same, and handed it to Burlogo, "It's because I pursue perfection that I want to do this."

"If you have paid attention to my news, you should know that this new book will be my... autobiography? An autobiographical fantasy novel."

When Irving mentioned this, he seemed a little embarrassed. He felt that only those noble and admirable people would have autobiographies. Writing an autobiography for himself would inevitably be a bit vain and arrogant.

"Fantasy is just a rhetoric to the outside world. In fact, all the content is true." Burogo picked up the heavy first draft, "They are all adapted from real events."…

Erwin emphasized again, "Yes, it is adapted from real events."

Burlogo could guess what was in the first draft, it would be Irwin's lifetime experience, he would fantasize about chasing the otherworldly, just like he did when he wrote "Night Hunter", and turn it into another fantasy world replace.

A work intertwined with truth and reality, it will interpret Erwin's life...

Suddenly, Burlogo understood, understood why this was only a first draft, "Your journey to immortality, this is what your new book is really about."

"I'm not sure if I can really fight for eternal life. Even if I fail, I can come back alive."

Irwin slowed down his speech. In this large library, he looked like a traveler who was telling a story. His slightly hoarse voice made people feel at ease, and even the stories he described brought a sense of time. .

"So I pre-wrote an ending for the book...I didn't like the ending, it was a fantasy, it wasn't real."

Irwin's pursuit of truth is not only reflected in his behavior, but also in his stories.

"Damn, that means, your trip is not only for eternal life, but also for writing a book!"

Palmer reacted, and for a while he didn't know how to judge Irwin. He should be called crazy or insane, but no matter which way he looked at it, Palmer thought it was pretty cool.

Dive into the otherworldly world, dance with the devil, and play this crazy board game, not only for immortality, but also for writing a book.

Palmer murmured, "Is this considered going out to collect information?"

"That's it."

Irwin laughed, and continued, "Only when I put this adventure on paper after we've gone through it all, will my work be truly complete and perfect."

Canary, who had been silent all this time, asked, "What about the failure?"

"Then it's a failure," Irwin said indifferently, "at least I took action."

Irwin patted Bologo on the shoulder, "Look, Bologo, all your questions about me will be explained in this first draft."

There are still many similar first drafts on the bookshelf. Irving sent a copy to everyone. The bloody fight and crazy exhibition are over, and the plot suddenly shifts to the work sharing session. Before reading Irwin's story.

To be precise, all of you here are Irwin's readers. For them, this is a good opportunity to relax their minds.

Palmer helped Hart sit up, using him as a pillow, nestled in the corner nervously and excitedly opened the first draft, before reading the first page, Palmer began to feel sad for Hart, this bad luck The ghost doesn't know what he missed.

In the silence, Irving stood in front of the vine-covered floor-to-ceiling windows. From here, he could see a large sea of ​​daisy flowers. The orange-red light hit the sea of ​​flowers. As the breeze swayed, they seemed to be burning.

Irwin took a deep breath. He hated fake things, but he had to admit that this big fake library made him relax.

"In the beginning, I didn't have much hope for the journey of eternal life."

When Burlogo turned over the first draft and approached Irwin, Irwin suddenly said, "But how should I put it, it's like a whisper that keeps lingering in my heart, it lingers in my mind endlessly."…

Irwin caressed the cold glass, "I didn't even think I could come back here again, even though it's not real here."

Bologo ignored Irving. He quickly flipped through the first draft, trying to get enough useful information from it. At this time, Canary followed, and she spoke directly.

"Irving, you don't have to bet everything on Happy Garden."

Erwin asked, "What's wrong?"

"Since you know enough about the extraordinary world, you should also know that it's not just the Desire Witch who can give you eternal life."

Canary directly stated her purpose, "The devil I serve is different from the witch of lust. He cherishes all arts and respects romantic poets..."

"Belphegor, I remember this name."

Irving directly interrupted Canary, "When I left Daisy Castle, he was the first stranger I met. I didn't expect him to be a devil."

During the war at Freeport, Irwin got help from Belphegor. As Canary said, Belphegor left a good impression on Irving. If given the opportunity, he would not mind fighting with Belphegor again. have a chat.

"Then you should understand that he can give you something like eternal life, even better than that of the Desire Witch."

Canary did not intend to let Irving go. Recruiting other poets was one of her accusations. Now it seemed that Irving was undoubtedly the most suitable candidate. He was simply a born poet.

"How to give it?" Irving showed some interest, "As long as I shout loudly, he will come to us, I will give my soul to him, and he will give me eternal life, and take us out of this purgatory by the way go out?"

Irving laughed as he spoke. He didn't pay too much attention to Canary's proposal, but regarded it as a joke.

After speaking, Irving still looked at Burlogo, as if he was asking for his opinion.

Bologo shook his head, "The devil cannot directly interfere with reality, even if he will come to save us, he still has to rely on the power of reality, not to mention that we are in the Garden of Joy, and the Witch of Desire will not let him get what he wants. "

Canary was momentarily at a loss for words, "You..."

"I need to give my soul to him to become immortal, don't I?" Irwin asked, but before Canary could answer, he started talking to himself again, "That's not possible, I don't want to Giving a soul so easily is not something a noble person should do."

"Then what do you want to do?"

Canary laughed angrily at Irwin's words. At this time, she found that Irwin was an extremely greedy guy, who longed for immortality, but didn't want to give his soul.

It's just a soul, what a bargain deal, even if White Gull begged for so long, he never got such an honor.

"Didn't we discuss that plan?" Irwin described his whimsical idea, "Get a wish card first, let you leave here, and I will find a way to get another one, promise eternal life desire."

"Do you think it's easy?"

Hearing what Irving said, it seemed that what he was going to do was as simple and casual as going downstairs to buy things, and Canary began to wonder if she had heard it wrong.

Irwin was silent for a moment, then laughed again, and asked Canary back.

"If you were a mountain climber, faced with an almost invincible mountain, would you accept the devil's help and go straight to the top?"

Irwin immediately gave his answer, and he shook his head, "No, that's too boring, and I think it will be scolded if I write it in a book, just like a mechanical descendant."

Canary felt that she could not convince Irwin anymore, she was not good at persuading others, so Canary shook her head—to the person who only existed in her vision.

Belphegor sat on the steps of the big library. He nodded slightly. Instead of looking at Canary, he flipped through the manuscript in his hand. He noticed a certain paragraph of text, and suddenly Belphegor understood , Why is Astmo so confident.

The big library was quiet, except for the sound of turning pages, Irving could be vaguely heard talking to himself.

"The process is the most important..."