Endless Debt.

"Bologo, I rarely open up to people, which may be related to my withdrawn personality, or it may be because of my solitary life that I have no contact with other people.

I think what I said next should be a kind of confession... Probably, let's just treat it as a confession. "

With red eyes, Irwin pressed his hands on the typewriter and kept typing on the keyboard. His ten fingers were dripping with blood, and the broken nails were sunk into the flesh. But Irving seemed to be unable to feel all this, his eyes were firmly locked on the paper, and he focused on his writing.

"The game isn't over, on the contrary, it's going on in ways we couldn't have imagined.

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

I don't know how to describe what I'm going through now, it's... it's like story and reality overlapped, like we did on Dawn, but then it was more like a game, now it's more like is an evolving 'reality'. "

The breeze came in through the gap in the window. It disturbed the pages of the book, making a rustling sound like leaves rubbing against each other. The sound was sweet and elegant. It echoed in the large library and reached Irving's ears. He seemed to be in a dense forest. .

As if being stared at by a tiger hiding in the bushes, Irving involuntarily stopped typing, his eye sockets were deeply sunken, and the skin around the eye sockets turned livid, as if he hadn't slept for days and nights.

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

At this moment, the number of words in the manuscript has increased by a few pages compared to before, and the black ink is mixed with dark red color. These words seem to have some kind of magic power. At first glance, all the words are slowly wriggling, Causes observers to experience a strange sense of dizziness and nausea.

It seems that Irving is not writing his own story, but some kind of evil tome, and every page of the book uses the extremely profane language to weave crazy curses and witchcraft.

I don’t know when, the sun hasn’t come to this castle for a long time, damp molds are growing wantonly in the corners, together with those vines, they drilled into the cracks of the bricks, pushed through the soil, and penetrated into the castle Among them, large tracts of vines are like countless dancing tentacles, completely enveloping this huge building.

"Darkness is eating the world."

Irwin tapped a button quickly, and a line of text was printed on his manuscript.

Like a prophecy, with Irving's writing, the darkness of the outside world became deeper and thicker. No matter how Irwin looked, he couldn't see the slightest starlight, as if Daisy Castle had been separated from the whole world.

Irwin raised his head, and through the glass dome covered with fallen leaves and dust above his head, he could see the dense vines that looked like snakes, and the cracks extended on the glass. It seemed that it would not last long, and Irwin could predict In such a scene, in a certain moment afterwards, the vines broke through the glass, invaded the castle, and devoured all the living things.

The sound of footsteps was getting closer and closer. The other party should be stepping on a pair of exquisite high-heeled shoes. The soles of the shoes struck the marble, making a crisp sound that echoed in the silent castle.

She didn't hide her existence at all, because in her opinion, Irwin had nowhere to escape.

When she came to the door of the big library, she knocked on the door politely, signaling Irving's arrival. Hearing the sound, Irving stopped what he was doing and got out of the working state. At this moment, the pain in his fingertips The delay stung his nerves, and then he saw the blood spilling from under the typewriter, dripping to the edge, and then dripping down like melted wax.

"Are you tired?"

The woman came to Irwin with a fruit plate, which was full of various cut fruits, and put the fruit plate on the workbench. She stood behind Irwin, put her hands on Irwin's shoulders, and kneaded for him. Pinch to relax.

"How long will it take you to finish writing?"

The woman leaned close to Irwin, her warm breath brushed over Irwin's ears, the voice was close at hand, and the scent of flowers covered up the bloody smell on Irwin's body, and then he saw the beautiful vision of complicated flashbacks, all of which flashed by.

"I... I don't know."

Irving stared at the blank pages of his typewriter, his story not yet over, and not knowing how.

"Then keep writing," the woman smiled, "Didn't you say that this will be a true, autobiographical story? In other words, you will write down all the stories you have experienced... What are you waiting for? Woolen cloth?"

The woman hugged Irwin's neck intimately, with her cheek against his cheek. She whispered to Irwin, and the warm breath was close at hand, but Irwin didn't feel the slightest beauty. On the contrary, he felt like he was being wrapped by a poisonous snake. It's like holding the neck.

Raising his stiff hands, Irving typed mechanically, writing everything he experienced into the book.

"We don't know whether this counts as escaping from the nightmare, but judging from my current experience, it is obvious that I did not escape... I did not escape the control of the monster king."

Asmodeus stared at the text, and let out bursts of laughter, she knew that the king of monsters was referring to herself.

"Darkness enveloped me, enveloped this land, and it is still further eroding all of this."

As soon as Irving finished typing the characters, the surrounding glass vibrated violently. It seemed that something in the darkness was hitting the castle forcefully. They wave after wave, and the glass was covered with cracks, as if they would be in the next moment. Crashed, and within the crack, strands of black breath tried to pour into the room.

"The king of monsters is by my side, she tempts me with her false faces..."

As if to correspond to Irwin's words, Asmodeus let go of Irwin, and she walked slowly to the work table. At the same time, her shape was also changing, her tall figure became shorter, and her flirtatious skirt The hem also turned into an ordinary dress. She put her hands behind her back and looked at Irving with an innocent face.

"Is that right?"

The familiar voice made Irving slightly distracted. He stopped typing and looked at the familiar girl in front of him.

Cinderella, she appeared in front of Irwin again, Irwin thought he would never see her again, just had a joy of reunion, and then a severe cold filled his heart.

False, this is all false, Cinderella never really existed, only Asmodeus.

Seeing Irwin's wonderful expression change, she laughed happily, and then she took out a book, the cover of which was the head of a white gull, he opened his mouth forcefully and widened his eyes, as if crying silently Howl.

"I can't remember the scene when we first met, Irving. After all, I have too many souls to harvest, and I can't remember them all."

Asmodeus turned the page, turned it towards Irwin, and turned the page slowly.

There are one identity card after another on the pages of the book, with different ages, figures, appearances, and stories. This is one of the countless identities in Asmodeus' game world.

She was distressed and said, "There are too many, which one do you fall in love with?"

Irwin stared straight at her. Unlike Asmodeus's smile, Irwin's face was pale, as if he had lost all his blood.

"What are you talking about?" Irving muttered to himself, and then his voice became louder, shouting, "What are you talking about!"

Irwin grabbed the pen uncontrollably, leaned over, swung the pen and nailed it to Asmodeus' palm, the sharp tip pierced through her flesh and blood, and hit the table.

"Wow."

Asmodeus looked at Irwin in surprise, and then she pulled out her palm little by little, the wound gradually expanded and dripped with blood, but she didn't feel the slightest pain, instead she seemed to be tasting some kind of joy.

Irwin retreated in embarrassment. At this moment, he lost his composure, and Asmodeus suddenly disappeared, and then suddenly appeared behind him, pushed him back to the seat, and then gently pressed his head, forcing Irving to look out the window.

"Tell me, Irving, what's out the window?"

Asmodeus made Irwin stare into the darkness, and Irwin's pupils were gradually covered by pitch blackness. In the muddy and sticky darkness, a hideous and terrifying voice gradually emerged.

Irwin tried hard to convince himself that these were false and hallucinations, but his hands still rested on the keys uncontrollably, his fingers trembling.

"Say it and write it down."

The darkness began to solidify. This illusion was a bit too real. Irving's eyes were bloodshot, and he growled in a low voice, "This doesn't exist."

There was a look of disappointment in Asmodeus' eyes, and his white hands covered Irving's bloody hands, as if teaching him to use a typewriter, and gently pressed Irving's fingertips.

The button was pressed, and one fresh character after another was printed on the snow-white paper.

"I'll tell you what's in the dark."

Asmodeus moved his hands away, and Irwin could no longer control his hands, pressing the button tirelessly again.

"In the dark... there are monsters..."

As soon as Irving finished typing this line, his narration became reality. The monster jumped out of the darkness and hit the glass with its head. It was just that the powerful blow failed to break the glass, but broke it by itself. With its head bleeding, it made a sound of thirsty blood, and once again hid in the darkness.Irwin didn't think it had left, it was just looking for a gap to invade the castle.

There were more noises in the darkness.

Asmodeus said, "Go ahead."

"I think I'm cursed."

Another line of text was printed on the paper, "I have a certain power...the power to turn words into reality, this may also be the trick of the king of monsters, she will turn everything I write into reality. "

In the long corridors of the ancient castle came shrill screams, mosquitoes were buzzing, and the decaying smell of rotting flesh was overflowing.

"Is this the distress letter you want to write?"

From the pile of papers, Asdmo found the page that Irwin had written earlier. This was a letter to Burrog, in which Irving's own confession was written, but this letter was just the beginning.

"This is not a distress letter."

Irving shook his head, "This is my suicide note."

Asmodeus removed the page Irwin was writing on and inserted it into the typewriter.

"Forget it, whatever it is, you've written it, you have to write it, that's the rule, the writer has to finish his story."

Irwin continued the long torture with mixed emotions.

"Bologo, I want you to know what happened to me.

It was a long fight and a tease of fate, and on that train, I think I did fall in love with a devil, a ghost I never knew, and I think I'm relieved, but the torment continues .

She is laughing at me.

This is a story written from my own experience, and now... the story I wrote will become a reality.

I don't know how to continue writing, all I can imagine is death, and when I wrote the despair with my own hand, I think that in reality... I will inevitably usher in real despair. "

The howls of monsters come and go in the night. In Irwin's writing, he escaped from the Paradise, but in Daisy Castle, he was found by Asmodeus once.

Irwin himself wrote what happened in reality, and what he described overlapped with reality. Reality and fantasy were completely intertwined, and Irving, like a real recorder, recorded the collapse of the castle.

"My friend, I think it's time for me to pay for my wild fantasies."

Irwin finished writing his suicide note, which was very simple. He just told others the reasons for all this and his own death... Irwin didn't want to die quietly, and there was no one mourning. It's so lonely.

After writing this, Irving felt that his mood was much better. He thought that he was not afraid of being alone, he just needed someone to talk to, and this kind of soliloquy was not bad. Irving thought he had the courage again.

Perhaps it was to seek a little comfort, or it might be to suspect that all this will eventually go to nothingness, leaving no trace of existence, and Irving wrote it hopefully.

"Wish you could see this."

Warm comforts flowed over Irwin's chest, and then a great fear rose, and Irwin cursed himself for being so stupid for doing such a thing.

He tore off the page and tried to erase the last line of writing, but it was too late. When Irwin wrote it, the words had already become reality.

The page burned and faded, and Irwin could no longer hold onto it.

……

Palmer picked up the letter, his face full of shock, and he greeted, "Burogo, come and see this."

Burlogo took off his apron, not knowing what Palmer was shocked about, took the letter and read it, while Palmer slumped on the sofa with a splitting headache.

"The game is not over."

"At least for us," Palmer said, covering his head.

Bologo put down the letter with a serious expression. At this moment, he remembered the huge chessboard corresponding to the reality. Behind the coast map was the vast snow-capped mountains. Under the blizzard, the real decisive battle would start in the gloomy old castle.

Burrog should have thought of that.