Endless Debt

Chapter 1299 - 91: Sea of Corpses (2)

"So, what exactly is he doing?"Serey looked at the gruesomely killed Bologue in the chair, puzzled. He knew Bologue had some mental issues, but never thought he was this far gone. Committing suicide just like that? Even the Undead couldn’t afford to be this extravagant, could they?

Wei’Er ignored Serey’s murmuring, raised her tail, and approached Bologue’s body, inspecting it carefully for a long time.

"Do you think Bologue would do something irrational?" Wei’Er asked.

"He... shouldn’t,"

Serey hesitated for a moment before giving a firm answer.

Indeed, sometimes Bologue would do unexpected things, but they generally served his interests to some extent and had a certain purpose.

"Then it shouldn’t be a sudden fit of madness that led to his suicide," Wei’Er stated, "but rather a purposeful action."

"A purpose that can only be achieved through death?" Serey queried skeptically.

"Bologue must know that guy."

At this moment, Bode, who had been silent, finally spoke up, "After hearing Wei’Er’s description of that strange person, he reacted very unusually, not to mention his clean and straightforward suicide... Maybe Bologue is looking for that guy. You heard it too; he said he wanted to ask someone and see if ’he’s home.’

"Could that strange person be the Death God, someone you can only meet after dying?" Serey speculated.

"I don’t know."

Bode shook his head and stood up, leaning on his lance. "But I do know that Bologue is about to resurrect."

The lance’s tip pointed at Bologue, where the ghastly wound on his throat was visibly healing, and in less than a few dozen seconds, Bologue would be up and running again.

"So?"

Perhaps from drinking too much alcohol, Serey’s mind was a bit sluggish, not grasping the deeper meaning in Bode’s words. Bode couldn’t be bothered to explain to the drunken fool. A gust of howling wind swept by, and the lance tip tore through the air, releasing a sharp whistling sound.

Serey only saw a glaring flash before him, followed by a dull roar. When his vision cleared, he saw that Bode was frozen in a throwing stance, and the lance he held had vanished.

Along with the lance, Bologue’s body was also gone.

Serey turned his head mechanically. At the other end of the Undying Club, a chair was shattered into pieces, with blood flowing everywhere. The blood-soaked lance seemed to have come alive, with mottled scratches moving slowly like snakeskin. At the end of the lance, Bologue’s body was pinned firmly to the wall.

"Are you crazy!" Serey screamed, "Bologue’s gone mad, and you all are following suit!"

Wei’Er jumped off the table and walked toward Bologue’s body. "Since Bologue wants to see the Death God, we can’t just let him resurrect right in the middle of their conversation, right?"

"Ah?"

Serey questioned whether he had heard wrong, while Bode nodded vigorously, highly agreeing with Wei’Er’s statement.

...

On the gray-white wilderness, Bologue kept running forward. Since he had taken the first step, Bologue had been counting the seconds in his mind, calculating how long it had been since he’d arrived here. According to his previous calculations, he should’ve been resurrected and sent back minutes ago, yet this time his stay in Between Nothingness was unexpectedly prolonged.

Bologue didn’t think this was a mere coincidence. Perhaps those Undead figured out his intent and gave him a few more cuts.

"Possibly?

The thought was too absurd to dwell on. Bologue continued his relentless run across the boundless land, seeking out the giant Ring Mountain. But in action, Bologue realized that such colossal Ring Mountains were too many to count here in the Between Nothingness.

All along, Bologue crossed one Ring Mountain after another, and overhead, giant rocks, suspended like mountain ranges, cast shadows that plunged the interiors of the Ring Mountains into darkness.

Bologue searched based on his memory but never found the one he sought.

This endless gray-white land resembled a wall-less labyrinth.

Bologue stood at the edge of one Ring Mountain, his gaze darkened as he looked out into the distance. Even now, the Astronaut hadn’t appeared, meaning that perennial devil was on his first long journey outside this perilous place, having been gone for so long.

"Sai Zong, don’t trust him, never trust him."

Bologue prayed silently. He genuinely liked Sai Zong, despite Sai Zong often behaving like a raving lunatic too. Yet during that conversation, Bologue sensed the sincerity in Sai Zong’s words.

No schemes or plots, he simply wished for peace.

And how precious is peace?

In the solitary world, Bologue’s myriad thoughts went unanswered. Just as he was about to continue forward, a prolonged rumble sounded overhead. Glancing up, two mountainous stones collided, shattering into countless fragments that trembled against each other and turned to fine dust, merging back into nothingness.

In the clash of boulders, the descending shadow fractured too, letting light seep through and reveal a corner of the Ring Mountain. In that fleeting moment of illumination, Bologue noticed something seemed to be inside the Ring Mountain.

Bologue gazed in confusion at the shadow within the Ring Mountain. As the giant rocks floated, the bright light was once again obscured. He stepped forward, not expecting the grey-white dust underfoot to suddenly collapse, sending countless pebbles rolling down the slope inside.

In an instant, Bologue lost balance, stumbling heavily to the ground. He tried to get up, but the sliding stones turned the slope into a scene of flowing sand, continually enveloping his body and rolling it toward the Ring Mountain’s interior.

His vision quickly wheeled. Now, Bologue possessed only self-awareness; his body was merely an Ether construct. He couldn’t summon any strength for this corporeal vessel.

He could only continue tumbling down the slope like a tumbleweed, with stones embedding into his body, delivering waves of excruciating pain. He rolled, not knowing how long, until finally, he halted at the crater’s base.

Painful breaths faintly echoed. After half a minute, Bologue struggled to stand, glancing back at where he’d fallen. The vast slope barricaded the path like a high wall. Looking forward, there was only a mass of unreachable shadow.

By Bologue’s feet, the grey-white dust reflected a strong light. The division between light and shadow was so distinct, as if cut by a knife.

Gazing again into the darkness ahead, Bologue suddenly felt an inexplicable presence, as though something lay within. Whispers fluctuated, as if someone were softly calling his name.

"Bologue..."

"Bologue Lazarus..."

Guided by some strange compulsion, Bologue stepped forward, into the shadow. As the darkness encased him, indistinct shapes emerged with varying contours.

Simultaneously, the collision sounds overhead resumed, with the mountains cracking apart, further shattering the shadows.

In that split second, Bologue held his breath; he saw it.

The countless gray-white figures, stacked like sculptures, shrouded in dust. Some were heaped into mountains, others lay twisted on the ground, their limbs contorted at grotesque angles, necks nearly cranked to a full rotation.

Many bodies lay broken. The severed ends bore no blood or flesh, just a monotonous gray-white. Despite lacking signs of life, these sculptural bodies exuded an eerie aura.

Each sculpture emanated a deathly atmosphere, as if their souls were eternally trapped in this tranquil yet terrifying scene. Their empty eye sockets conveyed endless pain and agony; their twisted mouths emitted silent, eerie roars and moans, as though expressing indescribable sorrow and despair.

A chilling dread climbed over Bologue’s heart. He had witnessed similar eerie scenes countless times, yet this time felt entirely different.

Because each of these sculptures had a familiar face.

Bologue’s own face.