Endless Debt.

Bologo took a bitter bite, gradually standing up his exhausted and hurt body. There were daisies with orange-red halos growing all around him, and they swayed slightly in the wind, making a soothing rustling sound. , Some petals are lifted by the wind, they float into the air, like countless fireflies are flying around themselves.

Sporadic gunshots rang out, and the hunters were hunting the remaining monsters. It would not take long for them to completely clear the place. Thinking of this, Bologo chased after the figure who helped him. At the edge of the sea of ​​flowers, he reluctantly Saw the hunter who was leaving.

Burrog guessed that he should be the character in "Night Hunter", but he didn't expect that one day he would be able to fight side by side with the characters in the book.

Beyond time and space, beyond the barriers of reality and illusion.

The hunter picked up his sword, and as if feeling Burrog's gaze, he turned around and waved at him. He was also curious as to why this man had the same sword as himself, but he still had something to do. Doing so, without pausing for a moment, he continued on, toward the Dawn.

Burrog wanted to catch up with him, and the intersection of reality and story made him very excited, but soon, he also realized that he also had something to do, the hunter had to take care of his friends, and Burlog also had his own. Friends need help.

Through the glowing sea of ​​flowers, Bologo found Aimiao in the cold crater. This time, Bologo did not simply pick up Amyau as he did with the goods in the past, but directly hugged her in his arms. Luo Ge felt that it was nothing, and Aimu helped him a lot, so it would be fine to take it seriously, but Ai Miao was a little shy, but fortunately, she was very good at controlling her expression in the state of the steel body.

On the next journey, Bologo felt a lot easier. The rock that weighed on his heart disappeared, and he took every step with a sense of lightness. He crossed the ruins full of corpses and found Palmer near the big library.

This guy looked sluggish, but his eyes were full of excitement. The tentacles had pulled out blood holes on his ankles and thighs. The bleeding was stopped in time. Palmer was fine for the time being. He staggered when he walked Stumbling, Burlogo had to spare a hand to support him.

The three scarred guys walked forward slowly like this, which reminded Bologo of the three-legged game. After a long time, they climbed back into the big library.

The big library at this moment is completely different from what I remember. Among the ruins of the place, only Irwin’s workbench is still standing, and the two dancing on the workbench have long since stopped. Apart from the typewriter, There are only footprints in the dust left.

Asmodeus leaned against the ruined wall beside him, folded his hands on his chest, and stared at the sea of ​​burning flowers in the distance. This arrogant devil looked lonely in a rare way, and there was a faint lamentation.

She needs humanity to understand all this, and she is trapped by layers of humanity.

Burrog guessed that this had something to do with Asmodeus' authority. She was originally a witch of lust, living with the bliss that reduced everything. If it weren't for the difficulty in obtaining precious emotions, she might be a sentimental devil.

Irwin lifted the chair and sat on it. The last dance seemed to exhaust all his strength. His breathing became rough, and his hands fell limply. Irwin still wanted to hit the keys and write something with the typewriter, but he Even this kind of strength is gone, except that he can still think and breathe, he is no different from a corpse.

Noticing the return of Bologo and the others, he raised his head slightly, with an ugly smile on his old and withered face, "Is it all over?"

Burlog nodded and put Amy and Palmer down, "It's all over, they're all dead."

Seeing Irving's current state, Bologo couldn't help but feel sad, "The ending of the story is very good. The hunters wiped out those monsters and killed them all."

After saying this, Bologo felt melancholy. All stories have their endings. Obviously, the ending of this story has come, so what will happen next?

Burrog didn't know, but he felt that Irwin should know that this was his story, his victory.

"Did I win? Asmodeus."

Irving looked at Asmodeus, his words were full of complacency, "You look a little unhappy, it feels bad to lose."

Asmodeus retracted his gaze, and his indifferent eyes fell on Irwin. This mortal had exhausted everything and spent his entire life in order to resist her. She could feel the rapid loss of Irwin's vitality. The old thing, after experiencing the story, seems to have burned the last firewood.

"So what if you win, you're going to die, Irving."

Asmodeus said contemptuously, "So what about those things you are stubbornly pursuing, don't you still have to rely on me and a devil to remember everything about you in the end?"

Irving laughed after hearing this. At this moment, he felt that Asmodeus was like a child. If he lost the game, he could only say harsh words outside the game.

There was a sense of relief on his old and withered face, and he sighed helplessly.

"Asmodeus, you really don't understand anything."

"Look at how this power has distorted you." His words were full of pity, like a priest praying for people, and then he blessed, "May you understand all this in the days to come, Take back what you lost."

Asmodeus's eyes trembled slightly, as if Irwin's words touched a fragile point deep in her heart. She was hesitant to end all of this completely, even if it was extremely rude, but Irwin did not continue. , he stared at himself for a long time, and then looked at Bologo and others.

Irving had wasted too much time with Asmodeus, at least in this last time, he hoped to spend it with his friends.

Amy and Palmer were sitting on the ground leaning against the wall, and Burlog was leaning on his sword stubbornly, unwilling to fall down no matter what he said. Looking at his stubborn appearance, Irving sighed.

"I still can't believe it."

"Can't believe what?" Burrog asked. "A miracle right now?"

This is a miracle in the true sense, the confrontation between humans and demons, the interweaving of stories and reality, even for the undead, in their long years, such things are extremely precious.

"No...I can't believe it, we've only known each other for a few days," Irving glanced at the faces of several people, engraving their appearances in his mind, "It feels like we've been together for a lifetime .”

The time they experienced was so short, but it seemed so long in recollection. Irving was a lonely guy all his life. He often thought he would die alone. This Daisy Castle is so huge, but there is no dusty place , There is only a large library.Irwin himself did not expect such an ending.

Irwin has never been stingy about showing his emotions, and his words are full of sincerity. Thinking of this, he began to miss the girl named Cinderella. He thought that one day in the future, Asmodeus should use her identity Appeared in this world again, but at that time, I don't know if she will remember herself.

Oh, yes, and his own muse.

Irving felt a burst of warmth. This warmth came from his heart, from the depths of his soul. At the end of the abyss, there was an altar built by himself, enshrining the idols piled up with countless memories and fantasies.

At this moment, Owen felt that all his values ​​had been realized, and his body and soul had been sublimated, so he whispered to himself.

"This is a cruel and noisy world, everyone is exhausted for their own desires, no one cares about romance anymore, let alone poetry?

It doesn't matter, I still exist, I will be the last defender..."

The melodious sound of sirens came from the battlefield. The hunters had already cleaned up the battlefield. They piled groups of corpses together and poured fuel on them to ignite them. Fire piles were set up one after another on the battlefield. Going, like a sea of ​​flowers spreading to the whole land.

After carrying the wounded and repairing the damaged carriages, the hunters managed to clean up the flesh and blood stuck on the wheels after simple preparations. They seemed to be in a hurry, as if they were ready to leave and headed for the next battlefield.

They are like a group of night chasers, non-stop.

"My friends, what is poetry to you?"

Irwin asked everyone, including Asmodeus, but he didn't expect people's answers, because Irwin had found his own answer, and his answer didn't apply to everyone, which required them to pursue it themselves, and then Irving looked at Burrog, and made one last request to Burrog.

"You know? Bologo, in fact, I have never liked you very much."

Irving struggled to stand up, his figure was shaky, and it was only when Irving stood up completely that Burlogo noticed that Irving's condition was bad. The wound on his abdomen had enlarged several times at some point. The blood inside seemed to have drained out, and even the internal organs disappeared, leaving only dark red flesh and bones.

The narrative is not without cost. This force has been consuming Irwin's vitality. He stumbled towards Burrog, and then he stretched out his hands. The nails on his ten fingers have disappeared, and some are just bloody pieces.

Irving put his hands on Bologo's shoulders, then moved a little bit, holding Bologo's face, the sticky feeling of flesh and blood stained his face, but Bologo didn't hate it.Irwin forced him to look at himself.

"That's right, I even hate you a little bit. If I didn't have these experiences, I would never make friends with people like you."

Irving sorted out his words, "Everything is good about you, except that you are too rigid and cold. I can't see a little romance in you...I can't bear this."

Burrog smiled helplessly. It's such a time, and Irving is still complaining about this kind of thing.

"Bologo, you should be more funny and romantic, so that you will understand many truths, meet many interesting things... many things you have never seen, you will fall in love with someone, or be loved by someone All of this will make your long life wonderful."

Burlogo replied sadly, "You made a mess of your life and ended up educating me?"

Irving laughed, his teeth bloodshot, and then coughed violently, as if he was about to lose his footing, and Burrog grabbed his arms just in time to keep him from falling over.

"Bologo, you're a nice fellow, and I think you'd be a very good poet if you could be romantic."

Irving pleaded, "Then poet, help me, one last time."

"What do you want me to do?"

Burlogo agreed to Irwin, and Irwin deserved to do so. This is an extremely precious friendship.

Irwin paused, straightened his back, and stood up straight. At this point, he was as stubborn as Burlogo.

"I have written enough happy endings for this story, and now, poet, this will be the first poem you write.

Please write my ending.

A sufficiently romantic and poetic ending that belongs to me. "

Irwin clenched Bologo's hands tightly and smeared blood on his palms. Bologo had an indescribable feeling for a while, the remaining power was given to him, and everything he said would be transformed into make reality.

"No... Irwin, no..."

"Listen to me, Bologo," Irving explained patiently, "there must always be someone to pass on the story, but that person doesn't have to be me."

Irwin said happily, "I have everything here, and there is nothing to chase."

Burrog heard Irwin's whispers.

"The pen is already in your hand, what are you waiting for, poet."

In an instant, thousands of emotions surged in Bologo's heart. It has been a long time since he had such a feeling of tears in his eyes, as if there was a warm sun shining on him, and it seemed that a choir was singing and singing.

"Irving Fleischer."

Burrog said Irving's name in a trembling voice, summing up his life.

"As you yourself aspire to be, you are indeed a noble man, and you abide by your own principles in times of crisis and at the end of your life."

Irwin let go of Burrog's hand contentedly, and he felt young again, with inexhaustible strength all over his body.

The wound on his abdomen was healing, and the wrinkles on his cheeks were gradually smoothing out. His turbid eyes became clear again, and his gray hair became dazzling golden. Youth once again favored Irving.

At the same time, with Burlogo's narration, the bloody typewriter that had been silent for a long time started up again, writing the last lingering sound.

"You are a great poet and an unyielding warrior. In the devil's bet, you have not conceded to any party...they have been unable to defeat you from the very beginning."

It was as if a ghost were tapping the keys, and it printed all that Burlogo had said on the page.

"We have won it all, the hunters rooted out the darkness, they honor your deeds and recognize your virtue.

At the end of your life...at the end of your story, you bid your friend a hearty farewell. "

Burlogo said and gave Irving a hug. It had been a long time since he hugged someone so forcefully, as if he didn't want him to leave, and then Irving walked towards Palmer. For this fanatic fan, Erwin Wen shook his hand firmly.

Irwin asked, "Do you still like my gift?"

Palmer nodded, "Excellent."

Irwin looked at Amy again, and motioned to her, and the circle of light in Amy's eyes shrank, and he responded.

The warm morning light casts from the far end of the horizon, and the light outlines the outline of the earth, as if inlaid with golden threads.

Irwin turned his head, and he tried to find Asmodeus, but there were only four of them left in the big library, and she had left at some point.

To this end, Irving shouted into the void, "I will miss you."

"I will miss you."

There was an echo from nothingness, as always.

Bologo said softly, "You walk towards the sea of ​​flowers."

Irwin left the big library, and with every step forward, he became younger and younger. He leaped over the piles of ruins and corpses vigorously, strode into the beautiful sea of ​​flowers, and walked through them again.

The loud siren sounded from the Dawn once again, and the hunters were ready to leave. This heavy armed train started slowly, its starting speed was very slow, the blood of monsters oozed from between the wheels, and someone leaned forward. Getting out of the train, he waved his hat vigorously at Irwin, urging him.

"You step and run as fast as a cheetah."

Irwin ran towards the moving Dawn. He ran faster and faster, bringing up petals and trailing behind him, but he still couldn't catch up with the train. The roaring steel giant would not wait for anyone .

"You find yourself getting lighter and lighter, and you run faster and faster."

Burrog took a deep breath and said with all his might.

"Suddenly, you fly."

Azure feathers grew from Irwin's armpits, and with the flapping of his hands, he soared into the air, and then more and more feathers covered Irwin's body, turning him into a brilliant blue.

"Irving, you have become a bird, a bird with blue feathers."

The birds flitted across the sea of ​​flowers and piled up corpses, passed through the thick fog, flapped their wings, and followed the Dawn together.

"Fly! Fly!

You overtook them and got into the story you wrote. "

The hunter stretched out his body and raised his hand, the bird slowly landed and stepped on his palm.

"You leave with your characters...on another journey that never ends."

The Dawn disappeared into the golden morning light, and Borrog stopped his narrative at this moment.He could no longer see the bird.

"This is your end."

Bologo suddenly felt an unbearable sense of exhaustion, and his whole body almost went limp. He looked at his friends, and everyone heard the sound like glass breaking, and the sound gradually became denser, like A glacier is collapsing.

The limitation of the space spanned by the strange crack spreads everywhere in the broken reality. The moment the concentration of ether reaches the peak, it declines rapidly, welcoming the final collapse.

Absolute darkness descends, and dawn emerges again.

When Bologo regained his sight, he was in the big library, and the big library in front of him hadn’t collapsed, and there weren’t even any traces of battle, and there were no weird vines on the huge French windows, and the farther outside Daisy Castle, The sea of ​​daisies swayed quietly.

There was no blood, no corpses, no devastated battlefields, not even a trace of the arrival of the Dawn.

Burrog was a little dazed, as if everything he had just experienced was just an illusion.

Is it really a hallucination?

Bologo found a twelve-sided dice on Irwin's workbench. With a feeling of apprehension, Bologo picked it up and threw it.

Nothing abnormal happened, it was just an ordinary twelve-sided dice.

When Burlogo wanted to pick up the dice, he noticed that the dice fell beside a neat stack of manuscripts. Seeing the words on it, Burlogo's eyes trembled. He then saw the familiar typewriter, which It was extremely neat, without any trace of blood, and it was placed in the center of the workbench, with a book page full of words inserted on it.

After reading the text on the page, after a long silence, Bologo stretched out his hand in a sad mood, pressed his fingertips lightly on the metal button, and wrote the last stroke of this story with all his strength.

The crisp metallic sound echoed in the large library, and a line of fresh black text was printed at the end of the page.

"The book is over."