Chapter Twenty-Six
"don't want!"
Chika refused decisively. She rolled her eyes, lazily stood up from the bluestone, and patted off non-existent dust.
"Here we go again, always trying to persuade people to become ghosts. What's so good about being a ghost? Being controlled by others, never seeing the light of day, and having a monotonous diet."
She stretched her waist, leaned down to look directly into his inhuman eyes, and her tone became lively and seductive again, as if she were showing him a treasure he had never truly understood.
"Being human is interesting."
She stared intently at him, a slight smile playing on her lips. "In a limited time, do everything infinitely possible and create infinite possibilities."
"Do you know what ice cream tastes like? Have you ever tried climbing to the top of the Sky Arena in a month? Have you ever been to the top of the World Tree? Have you ever seen a dragon as tall as a mountain? Have you ever been to the Dark Continent?"
"Oh right, there's no Dark Continent here."
Douma tilted his head slightly; these unfamiliar words failed to form any concrete perception in his mind, but...
"These can become ghosts, and they can be eaten and used as weapons."
Chika choked for a moment.
"But you can't feel that joy of hovering on the edge of life and death, of life hanging by a thread. You're not afraid of death, are you?"
"Because you won't die."
"Besides, you can't be exposed to ultraviolet rays. The World Tree has broken through the stratosphere, so ultraviolet rays can't be blocked there."
Douma paused for a moment, then said, "That's definitely not possible."
Chika was taken aback by his honest answer, and her momentum weakened slightly.
"etc!"
She scratched her head, then quickly grasped a key point again, "You can eat other things? I thought you could only eat people."
This has always been her understanding of ghosts.
"No, I can eat anything."
Douma snapped open his iron fan, obscuring the lower half of his face, revealing only a pair of innocent, seven-colored eyes. "Hmm~ Speaking of which, the thing I dislike eating the most is people. What a pity..."
He sighed dramatically, lightly touching his temple with the rim of his fan, as if troubled. "There's always a group of believers who cry and beg me to help them find peace and taste their sins... I'm in a difficult position too..."
Chika expressed disbelief, "...Is there something wrong with them? Are they begging to be eaten?"
Doma gently tapped his delicate, fair chin with the rib of his fan, looked up at the night sky fragmented by branches and leaves, and spoke with a hollow pity.
“Many people feel that they are deeply sinful and their souls are impure... They yearn to be devoured, as if this would purify them and lead them to the bliss they imagine.”
He lowered his eyes, his gaze returning to Qianxia. There was still no love in his eyes, but a deeper, more complex interest.
It's like finally finding your kind in endless desolation, and this kind of person can continue to bring unexpected interest.
"You see, aren't humans both very interesting and very tragic?"
He asked with a smile, as if sharing a dark joke about the world that only they could understand.
Chika didn't speak, but suddenly thought of her life in Meteor City and her career as a mercenary.
Meteor City, the world's dumping ground, the final destination of all waste. Mercenaries, killing machines hastily assembled under the drive of profit.
Struggle, plunder, betrayal, and survival are the only laws; the true nature of humanity is stripped bare and exposed in extreme environments.
Chika has seen far too many people betray their family, friends, and lovers for money, power, and desire.
Loyalty, friendship, love... these emotions cherished by ordinary people are often as fragile as a piece of waterlogged waste paper in extreme environments, and can be easily torn apart and betrayed for the most practical interests.
However, after doing all this, they sat before the cross, humbly pleading with God to wash away their sins, forgive them, and spare them from hell after death.
At this moment, what is reflected in Douma's empty eyes is the desolate and real wasteland deep within humanity, stripped of all its warmth.
At that moment, an indescribable bond was silently established between the two.
It does not originate from warm affection, but is rooted in the recognition of a certain common, absurd, and even dark aspect of human nature.
Like two heartless aliens adrift in a boundless sea of people, they unexpectedly caught a faint, similar noise in each other's frequencies among countless souls.
A tiny bit, insignificant, yet at this moment, it is incredibly clear and undeniable...
resonance.
However, this resonance did not last more than a few seconds. Douma raised his eyebrows slightly and suddenly reached out to block Chinatsu's way.
"boom--"
A tremendous explosion shot into the sky, and a huge mushroom cloud erupted from the other side of the mountain, spreading outwards like a ferocious beast awakening, its claws outstretched and expanding.
"Whoosh—"
The aftershocks of the explosion swept out in a ring, like an invisible giant scythe, the shockwave carrying scorching dust and debris, forming a devastating hurricane.
Wherever it went, ancient trees as thick as a person's embrace were snapped in half like fragile reeds, or uprooted and thrown into the air.
Countless sawdust was instantly evaporated, crushed, and turned into dust under the high temperature and impact, leaving only charred branches and dust flying everywhere.
The ashes of death, mixed with the stench of earth and the scorching heat of flames, permeated every inch of the air.
Douma still had a faint smile on his lips. "Ara ra~ It seems something's happened."
Chinatsu could tell something was wrong; she grabbed Doma's hand, her face turning pale.
"Holy crap! Genya's in danger!!!"
She murmured softly, her body reacting before her mind could process it. With a light touch of her toes, she was about to rush towards the center of that destructive vortex.
However, Doma was faster than her.
The iron fan unfolded with a "whoosh," not as an attack, but as a barrier, easily blocking her way.
He still stood there with a smile, his colorful eyes gleaming with an inhuman light amidst the billowing smoke and dust, his pristine appearance completely out of place with the surrounding chaos.
"Don't go, Chinatsu-chan~"
His tone carried a hint of coquettish complaint, "It's very dangerous over there right now. Even Lord Muzan is here~"
"Then I should go even more." Qianxia tried to bypass him, her tone urgent. "Xuanmi is still a greenhorn; he might be in danger!"
"A greenhorn?" Douma tilted his head slightly, feigning confusion, then suddenly realized, "Ah~ is that inconspicuous little guy who's always been following you?"
He lightly tapped his chin with the edge of his fan, his smile both sweet and cruel. "To be sent off by such fireworks might be a magnificent end to his short human life."
Chika drooped her eyelids helplessly, "Stop fooling around, be good! Listen to me, he's someone I brought out, so naturally I have to take him back properly."
"Your people?" Douma chuckled softly, as if he had heard an extremely funny joke. "Chinatsu, are you playing a game of companionship? How cute."
He took a step forward, ignoring her tense hostility, his voice low and alluring.
"But you can fool others, but you can't fool me. Are you concerned about his safety because he's really that important, or is it simply because... he's currently something useful to you, and you don't want to lose him easily?"
His words were like poisoned needles, precisely piercing the gray area deep within Qianxia's heart that she herself was unwilling to explore, attempting to deconstruct all her actions as cold egoism.
However, on that wasteland of thoughts stained with venom, some images stubbornly and uncontrollably broke through the soil.
It was Xuanmi's eyes, which always followed her, slightly clumsy yet incredibly sincere.
It was his unguarded, pure smile, like sunlight breaking through the clouds, when he received her casual approval.
Behind Sanemi's harsh scolding was a silent, unspoken protection that cleared obstacles for her and always prepared warm food for her when she returned exhausted.
These fragments, these moments, carry an undeniable warmth, like tiny sparks that suddenly land on the cold logic that Doma is trying to construct.
They are faint, yet truly burning hot.
Doma noticed her stunned expression, but subconsciously assumed that he had persuaded her.
"Look, we are actually exactly the same."
His gaze locked onto her, his voice like a cold spring under the moonlight, chilling yet alluring, "Unable to comprehend the pointless entanglements of humanity, yet eager to imitate and act, deriving a sliver of pleasure from it. Burdened with sin, their souls empty, wandering this world..."
He extended his hand to her, palm up, fingertips as white as jade, issuing an irresistible invitation.
"Stop deceiving yourself, Chika. The human body is too fragile, and human emotions are just a constraint. Such a life is fleeting; what is there to cherish?"
"Come, come with me. Break free from the limitations of this body and gain true freedom. We will be eternal companions, together turning this world into a playground we will never tire of."
His promise paints a picture of perpetual madness, filled with a complete denial of human value.
Chika looked at the hand reaching out to her, then looked up at Doma's rainbow eyes that seemed to devour all light.
For a moment, the air almost froze.
However, the next second, she smirked, "You're right, I'm really not a good person, my heart is empty and I'm full of sins."
"But, Doma—"
She paused, her gaze suddenly sharpening like a knife, cutting away all ambiguity and hesitation.
"I think I can still be saved. But you can't."
Before she finished speaking, she unleashed her power, no longer resorting to trickery, but instead smashing through Doma's obstruction and rushing towards the still-burning area where Genya was without looking back.
Doma was knocked back half a step by her, and stood there stunned for a long time before he came to his senses.
He wasn't angry; he simply slowly closed the iron fan, turned around, and watched her disappearing figure in the smoke and fire, her seven-colored eyes filled with confusion.
"Why..." he murmured to himself, his voice as soft as if he were asking the night breeze, "We are clearly the same kind of people, and deep down you... you know that too, don't you?"
This confusion was like a pebble thrown into a still lake, creating only a brief ripple before being overwhelmed by another, more turbulent emotion.
That wasn't a setback, but rather an interest that, like being doused with hot oil and eerie flames, burst into an even more intense and distorted blaze.
"However, this is getting more and more interesting. Girls who say one thing but mean another are really cute."
He muttered to himself, the corners of his mouth curling up in a particularly eerie way against the backdrop of ash.
"Struggle, run, my dear Chinatsu-chan... You will eventually understand that you have nowhere to go."
"Only by my side is your only true home."
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