Chapter 1303: Chapter 93: The Janitors
At the moment consciousness began to collapse, Bologue felt himself stepping into a dark void, his thoughts gradually becoming fuzzy, like various memories and feelings being mercilessly stripped away.
Bologue couldn’t feel the existence of his body; everything seemed to turn into desolate voids. Lost and alone, the ties of the mortal world tightened around Bologue’s consciousness. After a strong moment of bewilderment, the darkness turned bright, with one horrifying face after another surrounding him.
Similar awakenings Bologue had experienced a few times before, but then, those around him were not familiar relatives and friends, but doctors in white coats, exuding the scent of disinfectant.
Being watched by monsters was a first.
On the bizarre faces, a unanimous expression of confusion emerged, and Bologue’s gaze was somewhat dazed. Next, a strong, unyielding voice echoed in his heart.
"Remember all this."
Bologue involuntarily murmured, and then, the memory from Between Nothingness surged back like a reverse tide onto the beaches of his thoughts.
"I remember... I remember!"
After repeatedly confirming that his memory hadn’t been interfered with and all the secrets in Between Nothingness remained clear, Bologue was ecstatic.
So, surrounded by a group of Undead onlookers, the freshly resurrected creature laughed maniacally to himself like a madman, gesturing wildly, but soon, Bologue’s laughter stopped, revealing a contemplative pose, starkly contrasting with his previous state, shifting from one extreme to another.
Bologue’s pupils trembled slightly, and his whole body involuntarily shook a few times. Upon recalling the secrets he just discovered, Bologue felt as though he was tied to the train tracks with a train rushing towards him.
"Stop! Stop! Bologue."
Bologue raised his fist and hammered his own face a few times, forcing himself to escape from the agony of overthinking.
No matter how life-threatening the problem, each must be precisely prioritized before tackling them one by one. Evidently, Bologue’s personal issues weren’t highly prioritized; this conspiracy had been ongoing for decades already, another day or two wouldn’t affect much.
"I..."
Bologue was about to say something, raised his hand, kicked his leg forward, but found himself stumbling in place. Only then did Bologue realize that a cold spear was piercing through his abdomen, pinning him firmly to the wall.
Looking at the surrounding Undead, they all simultaneously raised their hands, pointing at Bode, who stood nearby with an innocent and honest look, while Bode weakly pointed at Wei’Er.
"It made me do it."
Wei’Er rebutted, "I didn’t!"
"You hinted so obviously, isn’t that what you wanted me to do?"
"So, it was a hint, a hint! You misunderstood, don’t blame me, okay!"
Bologue had no time to listen to their bickering. He gripped the spear with both hands, using all his strength to gradually extract it from his body. Crunching sounds steadily accompanied masses of blood and flesh exiting, a cruelty even many Undead turned away from.
They hadn’t seen blood for many years, seeing it again after so long made them feel sick.
Removing the spear, Bologue steadied his feet on the ground. With a deep breath, the horrific wound at his abdomen quickly healed as Bologue continued without pause, pushing through the Undead, striding swiftly towards the staircase.
"Bologue, what happened?"
Wei’Er jumped over the heads of the Undead, stepping on them, following closely by Bologue’s side, "Did you really see the Death God?"
Without turning his head, Bologue replied, "It’s complicated to explain and involves many entities I can’t reveal."
"Tell us, we might be able to help you."
At this, Bologue couldn’t help but stop. He shook his head at Wei’Er and then to all the Undead.
"No, you can’t help me, nor should you."
Bologue strongly resisted, then added smoothly, "Don’t forget, you, and those Undead, you’ve all retired."
Retired.
Upon hearing this term, the Undead’s expressions turned rich with embarrassment evident in their body language, performing on each person’s body. For this reason, they stayed put obediently, except for Wei’Er, who stubbornly followed Bologue. The rest acted as if they heard nothing, instead chatting amongst themselves, as if a party was being held here.
"Wow, old friend, long time no see, how come you’ve joined this too."
"Oh? You kid, well done..."
They conversed among themselves, as fake as a farce.
Those registered as members of the Undead were people who had decisively severed ties with the mortal world, completely isolated from many connections with reality, enjoying their remaining days in this place of seclusion. But once they choose to reconnect with the outside world, the refuge can no longer protect them.
The Undead would lose their tranquility, getting dragged back into a bloody storm... No one wanted to do this. Over the years, the Undead had become addicted to the peace here, like beasts with their nails clipped and teeth pulled, no one was willing to grasp a Blade again.
With many Undead filtered out, there were fewer people bothering Bologue, yet some were exceptionally stubborn.
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