Chapter 27: On Starting Again

"Chicken is chicken!" is a parody of "Is this a joke?" Upon hearing this answer, X felt speechless.

Men should equip themselves with two level 3 EGO accessories: one called "Hot and Juicy Ability" and the other called "Dry and Astringent EGO".

If I add just one more thing, I can obtain the state of perfect clarity and stillness!

Forget it, who cares? Now that we know the location of the small hall, there's no point in lingering here any longer. Virgilius, who has been excommunicated, is also completely powerless to do what he wants, so it's obvious we should separate.

Goodbye, guide, I'm setting sail tonight.

Now that the decision has been made and Carly is back, we can head straight to our destination. He's out looking for someone, not on vacation. At the current pace, he might get back to the company even before Beckham.

"We have other things to do, so we'll be leaving now."

The young man abruptly interrupted the brief exchange of pleasantries. Dante, sitting opposite him, hadn't even had a chance to systematically explain the concept of supernatural abilities before hearing this line of words.

Didn't you just arrive? You check in at noon and check out in the afternoon, so are you going through immigration again tonight?!

If X could hear the brown-haired youth's inner monologue, he would be surprised to find that the man who called himself Dante had a completely different thought process.

Dante wanted to persuade him to stay, but changed his mind. Why keep him? His other half entered the country from Japan, and he most likely lived there. That remote, rural country was a sure-fire loser in this superpower war.

Why doesn't he just go with them? Anyway, right now in Europe, only Britain and France are secretly fighting like chickens. What does it have to do with his peaceful Italy? He doesn't have to go to work anyway.

Moreover, Dante's green eyes began to observe secretly. His other half clearly liked his humanoid ability. Even though he was about to leave, there was still some emotion in his eyes when he looked at Virgil. What was the difference between him and Virgil?

Dante suddenly realized that he had been almost completely ignored. In his usual gatherings, he was always the center of attention, but here he was turned away twice, and his presence was even less noticeable than his own superpower.

"Are you here for tourism? I know this place very well and can be your tour guide."

The young man, who thought he could immediately get a job as a tour guide at a travel agency, subconsciously curled his hair and asked.

"We're going to look for someone. Once we find them, we'll head back. No need for you to worry about us."

After finally having a flash of inspiration, the newly found step was ruthlessly destroyed by half of his own body. But, should he look for someone?

"I also have friends in the government who can help. What are the characteristics of the person you are looking for?"

"Excuse me, we're not in this country. We'll be leaving the country shortly and heading to another one."

Are we really going to have to leave the country?!

"Ahem," the brown-haired youth cleared his throat. "Actually, I have acquaintances all over this continent."

The implication is that they're practically slapping X in the face; are they determined to stick with them no matter what? Like a piece of chewing gum.

"Spain has it too?"

"Spain also has it."

"Then, may I invite you to come with us?" The helplessness in the black-haired youth's voice was almost palpable.

"My pleasure."

Dante's way of speaking is so strange. It's like he's imagining some non-existent memory. It's so weird!

"Wait a moment, I'll have someone bring me something."

Dante arrived in Milan in a hurry after feeling halfway through his journey. He originally lived in Florence, and he only had one set of clothes with him. He didn't have time to bring anything else, not even his cell phone.

The brown-haired youth rushed downstairs as if afraid of being abandoned by the group if he was too slow.

Has he always been like this?

Watching the young man's retreating figure, X asked Virgilius, the one among them who knew him best.

“Sigh,” Virgilius said, his expression turning weary as if he had seen something incomprehensible. “He… at least he wasn’t like this before today.”

Before today, Dante was a reliable young man who was cold-faced and unapproachable, both on the battlefield and at gatherings among those who transcended. He was reluctant to admit that this uncharacteristically young man was his "master," and was more like the LCB employees on the bus who were always causing trouble for him.

Is Dante possessed today?! Or is he influenced by this "Dante"? It's kind of like the Dante in my own house.

Feeling the death stare from the guide, and miraculously receiving the signal, X just wanted to cry out that he was innocent; he really hadn't done anything!

"I'm back!"

Before the exchange between the golden eyes and the red LED lights could even reach a conclusion, the brown-haired youth wearing a dark red drape over his suit had already rushed back.

A large patch of deep red flashed before the black-haired youth's eyes, and he was carrying a hat of the same color in one hand. Was he going to get the clothes? Or was this garment something like the EGO armor?

“I can dress however I want in Italy, but when I’m going out, it’s better to dress more formally.”

Seeing that X was very concerned about his attire, Dante tugged at his soft outer robe, revealing it to his upper body.

"Do you want it? I have another one here."

He pulled out a piece of the same dark red cloth from somewhere. X was certain that he hadn't brought any container to store the cloth. Was this also a "superpower"?

If he dressed like that too, he and Dante would look like two stage actors who had just run out of the theater. X spent a lot of time after get off work watching video works about this world with Lisa and Enoch.

This is Italy, not ancient Rome from the movies. They might be taken away as mentally ill.

No, given the sense of superiority that Dante inadvertently reveals in his actions, he will most likely be the one who ends up being taken away. Most importantly, he will die a violent death, he will definitely die a violent death!

That's right, with the supervisor's extraordinary wisdom, he wouldn't be fooled by this big red moth.

"No need, thank you." You can wear it yourself, or you can let Virgilius wear it; he listens to you anyway.

Dante didn't seem inclined to promote it to anyone else. Somewhat dejected, he stuffed the red cloth back into his clothes. X breathed a sigh of relief. Now he could finally leave, right?

The little chapel in Spain is waving at you.

The breath caught in my throat halfway through. Did Dante stuff such a large piece of cloth into his clothes? Is this some kind of singularity technology from this world? Is it a dimensional bag or dimensional clothing?

Unlike abstract concepts like "superpowers," Cloth is a tangible object that X can see and touch. He felt an irrepressible urge to investigate whether it was based on the same principle as the Dimensional Bag.

The deep green eyes kept a close eye on the young man, keenly noticing the changes in his expression. Good, he's taken the bait.

"Can I take a look at it?"

Without any beating around the bush, the black-haired youth asked the owner of the fabric directly.

Dante nearly choked on his unexpected remark. Shouldn't the normal procedure be to change her mind, wear the same outfit as him, and then discuss it privately? Why did she just blurt it out?!

Observing the barely suppressed smile on the brown-haired youth's face, X understood:

"You don't need to make things difficult for yourself. If it's not possible, then forget it."

Anyway, he didn't need another storage item, so why make things difficult for a somewhat enthusiastic stranger? What if he made things difficult for Virgilius?

Dante's green eyes reflected the youth's aloof behavior. Very well, the sky has fallen.

X suppressed his curiosity and decided to continue his journey, just as someone who was said to be very familiar with this land happened to be there.

"Mr. Dante," the young man's golden eyes stared intently at the newly appointed tour guide, "do you know the fastest way to get to Spain?"

“Of course it is…” Dante swallowed the words. “It’s already late. If you don’t want to arrive in the middle of the night, I suggest we take a boat. We can arrive tomorrow morning, and it will be easier for you to find people during the day.”

Hearing Dante's suggestion, X glanced at Don Quixote, who was still chattering away, asking Carly all sorts of questions. Did he even know how terrifying a boat trip was for a blood demon?

"...ship," Don Quixote seemed to hear a terrifying word. A ship represents water, and water is a double blow to the Blood Demon, both physically and psychologically. It's just too disgusting.

He couldn't care less about the crimson mist that was already annoyed to the point of wanting to hit someone, and quickly went to stop the terrible suggestion.

The ship option was rejected. "Then how about the train? It goes from France and we can get to Spain by tomorrow morning. Which city do you want to go to?"

"Which city is closest to here?" What X needs now is to get Don Quixote to Spain first, and then let him sense it again, so that the range can be narrowed down again.

"Then let's go to Barcelona. It's the fastest way, and we can get there in the morning. Actually, we could also take a plane, but you won't be able to find anyone at night, right? You'll get caught by the gendarmes."

This is why X sat in the soft seat, gazing out the window at the European countryside under the night sky.

They just changed trains in Paris and will arrive in Barcelona soon.

Unlike the others whose identities were arranged by Angela, Virgilius was not considered human. He was taken back by Dante as soon as he left the hotel, so there were only four people sitting in the train compartment.

While enjoying the scenery, Don Quixote also felt that his connection with Sancho was growing stronger. Two hundred years later, he was about to see the retinue he had sent away again, even though that Sancho belonged to "himself".

"Mr. Dante?" A young voice came through the knocking, clearly from an acquaintance of Dante from Italy.

Dante, who had successfully sat down next to X, was dozing off, his hat still unconsciously used to shield his eyes from the light in the carriage. Being next to X gave him a feeling of his soul being complete, and his eyes closed without him even realizing it.

If it weren't for some familiar voices, he probably would have slept straight until morning.