Endless Debt

Chapter 1182 - 28: Liberation Day (Part 2)

Certainly! Here is the translated text:"This is my own idea."

"Really?"

Aimou showed a look of suspicion and softly said, "Is this really your own idea, and not something that should just be a part of your job?"

"Why would you think that," Bologue said, "as if, to you, I’m a tool with no self-will."

"You’re just too diligent!" Aimou forcefully patted Bologue’s shoulder. "And you’re full of pragmatism!"

Aimou began to reprimand Bologue, "I’ve wanted to say this for a long time, all of these...these things, are they truly from your own desires? And not influenced by something?"

She raised example after example, "You really do seem like a narcissistic Savior, but most of the time, you’re just taking one job after another to slay enemies...you seem to see yourself as a tool, diligently following the orders and wishes imposed on you."

Bologue fell silent, recalling his life since he was released from prison; it indeed seemed as Aimou described, that Bologue was like a perfect Blade always wielded by others, wielded by the vast Order Bureau and Decision Room.

This was a job, Bologue often thought, and due to the alignment of interests and stance, Bologue had never had any complaints, not even the slightest discomfort. But Aimou detected Bologue’s distortion; he was too rational and pragmatic. She even began to suspect that after endless years, Bologue might truly become an emotionless tool, acting only for some efficient goal.

Just like the Calamity of this world.

"No, I’m not a tool. Even if I were a tool, I’d be an autonomous tool."

After a brief reflection, Bologue analyzed his thoughts and decisions. Seeing Aimou still had that worried and doubtful look, Bologue continued.

"Judging this is actually quite simple."

Aimou asked, "What is it?"

Bologue took a deep breath and said calmly.

"My action of rescuing you in the time-axis disorder was unrelated to my job."

...

Towering cliffs cast huge shadows, and accumulated mist shrouded most of the light. Though it was noon, Gray Stone Town still appeared gloomy, and townspeople walked the streets with blurred silhouettes like phantoms. The town’s outskirts were the cracked rocks and collapsed ruins, as if the world has perished, leaving here the only pure land.

Yidir withdrew his gaze from the crack in the window, looked at the dark interior, and exclaimed reluctantly, "I hate this town. It looks so eerie and lacks Life Force."

Yidir deliberately emphasized "Life Force", and the others indoors understood his implication, all bursting into unsettling laughter as if they’re plotting something.

"Are they still untraceable?" Yidir asked.

"We’ve found some traces," a voice answered, "some dried bloodstains and bits of flesh. Looks like they’re all dead."

"Is it the people of the Order Bureau?" Yidir asked, "Their reaction is fast, have they started controlling this place already?"

"It doesn’t feel like the Order Bureau’s doing," the voice continued, "with their professionalism, they’d truly vanish without a trace, but this time, too many traces were left behind, like a novice’s work..."

"Intentionally like a trap," another voice said.

Yidir frowned, unable to reach any conclusion. He then looked at another person in the room.

The person was dressed in a red robe, seated in a corner’s shadow, surrounded by a pervasive smell of blood like someone wounded, slowly bleeding.

"What do you think?" Yidir asked.

"Whatever they encountered, regardless of the outcome, it won’t interfere with our original intention," the man slowly lifted his head, removing the red hood, "Let’s proceed according to plan, to liberate that noble existence."

Yidir looked at the man’s face, his skin tinted with a faint blood hue like a thin red veil, revealing a sense of chaos and wildness.

He had no hair, his smooth scalp engraved with black tattoos resembling some wicked ritual arrays, eyes deep as the Abyss, radiating unspeakable madness and bloodlust, making people dare not gaze directly.

"Liberation, huh?"

Thinking of what he had to do next, and what he would face, Yidir’s heart uncontrollably trembled.

"Are you afraid, Yidir?"

Sharp eyes fell on Yidir like a blade slicing off a piece of flesh.

Yidir did not dodge and straightforwardly replied, "Afraid, of course, I am afraid."

"Now we are deep in enemy territory, the Order Bureau’s stronghold, and we must release...that noble existence," Yidir’s expression darkened, "I don’t believe that when it escapes, it will consider us its own."

The atmosphere indoors became oppressive, the man’s gaze turned increasingly fierce, but Yidir showed no fear, he saw face after face loudly saying.

"I guess everyone’s thoughts are similar to mine!"

Yidir continued, "It is termed noble existence, but we all know that it is merely a beast with absolute desire. When it breaks free, it may swallow every one of us."

The man said, "This is for God’s sacrifice."

"I never doubt my faith," Yidir said, "but I refuse meaningless sacrifice."

"I can control it," said the man.

"Are you sure, Hammer," Yidir and Hammer locked eyes, "that is the Calamity of this world, and you are merely a Negative Power User."

Hammer suddenly stood and walked briskly towards Yidir, the blood aura surrounding him charged forward as if a beast opening its mouth toward Yidir, spewing bloody foul air.

The two were very close, confronting each other, Hammer locking his gaze on Yidir’s eyes, his voice struggled out from his throat.

"Everyone else out."

People exchanged glances then quietly left the interior; they already knew Yidir and Hammer’s conflict had evolved into this state, as everyone anticipated.

Hammer whispered, "All you need to do is your job, Yidir, make enough sacrifices, allow it to recover power, as for when it escapes, that is my responsibility, you don’t need to worry."

"I’m only afraid your fanaticism for faith will kill me," Yidir said indifferently.

"Damn it, if you’ve never believed in her existence, why did you join us?" Hammer’s anger surged, "Allowing a non-believer like you in the Sect insults the Lady."

"Hey, hey, hey, calm down."

Yidir backed continually, leaning against the wall, hands raised high in a surrendering posture.

"Haven’t we discussed this many times?" Yidir said, "I joined the Sect just seeking immortality."

Yidir shook his head, "I’m quite pragmatic, give me immortality, and I’ll work for you, plain and simple."

Hammer glared at Yidir, feeling every word was profanity, yet Hammer had no means against Yidir, indeed needing this cunning, cowardly fellow.

"I don’t want to become one of you fanatics, as soon as my task is complete, I’m departing."

Hammer forcibly contained his anger, regaining composure, returned to the corner and picked up a carving knife, dipped in the black ink, continued carving strange patterns onto his skin.

After some time, Hammer’s voice rose again, "After creating the Eternal Rotting Land, leave immediately."

Hearing those words, Yidir’s face spread a smile.

"Alright, Bishop Hammer."