novelraw Chapter 124: Conjecture
Chapter 124: Conjecture
The phantom of the Writer hovered in mid-air, an immense shadow of stars flashing through his eyes so quickly it was impossible to catch.
He silently watched the children running upstairs, his dark robe faintly wreathed in mist as if he might vanish at any moment.
Just before stepping through the door, the children instinctively glanced back.
They saw the elegant, handsome young man's figure flickering in and out of view, his profound eyes gazing at them peacefully, slender fingers resting gently at his sides.
He seemed to be standing quietly not far from them, alone in the darkness, solitary and desolate.
As if he would never exist in the same world as them.
This feeling was even more shocking than what they had seen in the video before.
Unlike Cheng He and Yang Qianqian, Xu Zisheng was the one who more directly sensed the unusual aura emanating from the Writer.
That power was stronger and more terrifying than S-level.
It also made him feel as if he had never truly seen through the Writer, as if the distance between them had grown even greater.The memories he had glimpsed couldn't compose even one ten-thousandth of the whole.
Too heavy to bear.
The eerie power that had just protected them came from a more distant, more untouchable past.
More than that, they could no longer see.
Because in the next second, the Writer had withdrawn his gaze from them, turned floating away, and instantly dissipated.
Just before the door closed, they could only see the Writer's slender, cold back transforming into scattered points of light, vanishing into the air.
Back in the room, the terrifying pressure from that enormous black shadow had completely disappeared.
The small room blocked out all the dreadful commotion outside, which was now eerily quiet. Whatever was happening out there, they would never know.
In this bizarre orphanage instance, bound by incomplete and twisted rules, this small room seemed to be the only sanctuary.
Xu Zisheng's fingertips were still trembling uncontrollably, his body temperature gradually warming, the frozen blood in his veins slowly beginning to flow again.
His still-beating heart proved he was alive.
He slowly raised his hand to cover his face, making his expression unreadable.
The last Cursed Child finally let out a slow sigh.
What was all this? In the end, Mr. Yan had ultimately responded to his call.
Even though he himself wasn't strong enough, he had repeatedly sought help from the other.
Yet despite everything, the other had extended a helping hand once again.
Wasn't this actually taking advantage of the Writer?
How could his verbal promises compare to the Writer's repeated interventions?
Sir, you're truly different, aren't you...
The Writer, he absolutely...
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"We survived..."
Cheng He's legs completely gave out, dropping him straight to his knees on the floor. He weakly supported himself with his hands, his chest heaving continuously.
Yang Qianqian, who had collapsed nearby, still looked like a doll, her expression dazed as if she hadn't fully processed what happened.
The Writer had intervened.
And it was to help them.
Cheng He's mind was in complete turmoil.
Why?
Why would he help them?
Why save them?
Wasn't he a ghost?
Could he genuinely be benevolent?
Why did he look so lonely?
What had he been through?
Why did he look at them like that?
No amount of speculation, no amount of false conjecture could compare to the reality of direct contact—
When facing hostile enemies, he could wield his weapons without hesitation.
But when confronting benevolent beings, his will to fight seemed to weaken.
"Mr. Yan..."
Yang Qianqian murmured nearby, and as those words left her mouth, both present individuals froze slightly, a deeply strange feeling rising from within.
"I... I really like him so much..."
The doll figure collapsed nearby gradually became more real, her face and limbs transforming into actual flesh and blood, the tangled golden hair slowly dissipating.
The crimson light points eventually coalesced into the eerie doll she always carried in her arms.
Yang Qianqian tightly hugged the doll against her chest, her eyes still somewhat vacant, murmuring once more, "Like... I really want..."
The doll with stitches along its limbs seemed to widen its smile, as if agreeing with its owner.
Was that Death God Level?
Or was it something beyond Death God Level?
This would be a realm they had never encountered before.
As the relief of surviving a disaster washed over them, countless wild thoughts simultaneously surfaced in both their minds.
The Writer was indeed powerful enough—
Could they use him?
Could they leverage his power to change their current situation?
What did he want?
What could they gain from him?
Anyway, if the Writer belonged to that era from another world, then Country Z might become the first nation to break through the current deadlock!!