"Don't admit your mistake, Xia Zuo."

Xia Zuo was silent for a long time this time.

He lowered his head, leaving only the top of his dark brown hair visible, and said nothing.

The comic will murmured, "...He cried."

Even when his good friend died in front of him, he only shed a few tears; even when people repeatedly opened the scar of "Cesare is dead" to him, he did not let these crystal clear tears fall out of his eyes.

But now he suddenly couldn't control the emotions that he had been suppressing for a long time.

The brown-haired teenage boy's body was trembling slightly. He pursed his lips tightly to prevent himself from making any sound. He only felt great absurdity and dizziness.

Both of his friends left him, and one of them never came back.

He felt extremely lonely.

"You made the protagonist of a boys' comic cry twice... You should have some conscience." The comic's will said reluctantly.

The black-haired prophet seemed a little reluctant.

He sighed again and said, "Don't you have anything you want to ask me?"

"…If what I hear is still a bad result, then what difference does it make whether I ask or not?" The brown-haired boy exhaled, and when he raised his head again, his eyes were almost deadly calm: "And if I ask you, will you tell me the truth? Christian Krest."

He wanted to escape from it all.

Just like a wild beast licking its wounds alone.

"...I treat you as a friend, Christine." Finally, he couldn't help but speak. The boy's eyes were a little fragile and confused: "Xize is your tribe...but what role do you play? I don't know, Christine."

“…Don’t lie to me.”

Don't... lie to me.

Instead, the dark-haired prophet gazed at him calmly.

"Are you begging me?"

pray?

Xia Zuo was slightly startled.

So the brown-haired boy uttered a "ha" with some unknown emotion in his voice, which was low and light, mixed with a bit of a vague smile, and said miserably:

"Yes...I beg you."

“…”

The black-haired boy said nothing.

During the devil's hour, the sky changes color very quickly. The blood-red setting sun quickly fades away, the red becomes lighter, and the warm orange begins to occupy the main color of the sky.

The two stood in front of the window, one on the left and one on the right. The downward twilight shone on them, giving the scene a somewhat trance-like softness.

The black-haired prophet moved at this moment.

First, the gauze on his eyes moved slightly, as if his eyelashes trembled; then he bent down, and stretched out his hand as if he was sighing.

His black hair fell down and his eyes were focused, as if the god was taking pity on his believers.

"I'm sorry, Freeman." His address changed back to normal; he was still as caring as ever for all those who came under his wing.

"Go to the Eastwood Prison for the Insane. Perhaps you can find a way out there."

Xia Zuo raised his head.

He keenly felt that something in the other person seemed to have changed.

At the same time, his eyes gradually brightened.

"What did you say..." The brown-haired boy repeated his words: "Go to the Eastwood Prison for the Insane..."

His tone even became a little excited: "You...is this what I thought it meant?"

"Maybe, maybe not." The black-haired prophet stood up again and said, "But you should know that I shouldn't have told you in the first place."

Xia Zuo blinked: “I knew Kristen would be soft-hearted.”

"But I didn't lie to you just now. I am really sad, Kristen."

The sadness is real, the despair is real, and trying hard to stay calm and break through the situation is also real.

Christine: “…”

Soft-hearted?

He smiled and said, "Maybe."

——God should not be soft-hearted.

He swallowed the words back.

Xia Zuo paused, then asked, "...If Caesar's affairs cannot be revealed no matter what, then what about your affairs? Why are you here, and are you tired of living?"

"Collecting faith is actually your ability as an agent?"

Christine did not answer the first two questions, but said calmly: "I think you know that even so, I can't convert you. We are equal."

Xia Zuo's expression, which had originally relaxed, stiffened a little again.

"I'm telling you..." He whispered, "Can't you just let me be happy for a little while?"

"Feel sorry."

The black-haired prophet pursed his lips, wondering what he was thinking.

"I don't want to see his death either."

He noticed that the color on the brown-haired boy seemed to fade away step by step when this topic was brought up, but he still continued: "He is the person closest to me in this world. Through him, I got to know you."

Xia Zuo was stunned: "Did Caesar mention me to you?"

He suddenly remembered what the black-haired prophet had said before, "You've changed a lot, Xia Zuo," and suddenly felt a little at a loss: "I... I don't want to be like this either. Do you think I'm suspicious and cold? When Caesar was here, I could do whatever I wanted, because he could predict everything. After he... left, I could only try to do these things on my own."

Xia Zuo madly patched: "Xize is very powerful, I don't mean to say that Xi Ze is not good!!"

Christine: “…”

The black-haired prophet's expression seemed unusually subtle.

Xia Zuo's eyelids twitched violently, and he racked his brains to organize his words, trying to save the situation.

Then he heard the black-haired prophet say, "Now that you are here, you can also do whatever you want."

Before Xia Zuo could react, he changed the subject: "Improving your strength is your short-term goal. Awakening the gods is your lifelong mission. What you need now is not faith, but ability."

"Picket towers and federations are great training tools."

After saying this, the black-haired prophet seemed to have sensed the call of his believers and disappeared directly in front of Xia Zuo.

Xia Zuo was stunned for a moment, and then he smiled bitterly as if he was talking in a dream.

"As expected... He is completely different from Caesar."

…

…

The comic said firmly: "You just softened your heart. Your conscience hurts!"

The black-haired boy was sitting on a branch, his white-gold vestments hanging down, and he was tossing a fruit in his hand and said calmly: "What's so strange about this? Of course I have a conscience."

"But you only have a slight pang of conscience." The comic will seemed to have thought of something and blurted out: "You are truly becoming worldly, Cesar."

The black-haired boy stopped throwing the fruit, raised his eyebrows slightly, and chuckled, "Since this is a comic book world, everything is fake, so how can we enter the world?"

He slowly and drawn out his voice: "Unless in your eyes, this world is real."

The comic will suddenly shut up.

It suddenly recalled how it was afraid of this young man at the beginning.

How come after spending some time together you feel like you can just hang out with your friends?

It changed the subject abruptly: "I thought you were going to throw out the script just now."

"If it's real, of course it's fine." The black-haired boy said calmly, "But if it's to be drawn into a comic, we have to consider the rhythm and performance, right?"

Comic Will: "...You are right."

Damn, totally unanswerable.

"With contradictions, conflicts, and suspense, comic readers will discuss more, so why should I let Christine lose her mystery so early?" Xizel continued, "Besides, as the male protagonist of a shonen comic, Xia Zuo needs to improve his strength, not continue to waste his energy."

"Let's go back to the real world."

The black-haired boy's voice seemed to have no ups and downs.

"I want to take a break for a while."

…

…

"They are brothers!"

"They're half-bodies!"

Two girls on the subway were arguing quietly, but when they saw the cosplayer with long black hair holding a book, their eyes suddenly lit up and they pushed each other to get closer.

"Hello?" A bold girl asked in a low voice, "Are you the cosplayer of Cecil Crest?"

The black-haired boy tilted his head.

The other girl couldn't help but retort: ​​"Look at this temperament, it's obviously the cosplayer of His Majesty, but he just didn't have time to change into the cosplay costume!"

"He's holding a book. Ze Shen's standard equipment is books!"

"My Lord also loves reading books -"

Black-haired cosplayer: “…”

He reflected on it and realized that his temperament was indeed a bit immersed in the role-playing, so he manually adjusted himself to make himself less universal.

So when the girl who said she looked like Christine turned around, her eyes were filled with confusion: "...Why do you look like Césaire now?"

Another girl laughed and said, "I just said they were half-bodies."

"...We were guessing the plot of the comics from a cosplayer, wondering if there was some serious illness."

“…”

They all immediately bowed and apologized to the black-haired coser, saying they were sorry for disturbing him.

The black-haired cosplayer laughed and said, "It's okay, you guys were quiet and didn't disturb me."

"Besides," he smiled and blinked his misty blue eyes, "I'm not cosplaying either."

After receiving another pupil earthquake x2, he declined the request for a photo and got off the subway at Riverside Park.

Because he had been sick since childhood, he seldom went out, and he had only been to this famous park in the city a few times.

He just remembered that many years ago, when he fell on the gravel road there because he suddenly felt unwell, an old man who fed pigeons helped him up and sent him to the hospital.

He then gave the old man a large sum of money, but he did not take a penny.

He suddenly wanted to meet the other person.

The comic will said, "What is your purpose in doing this?"

Xizel smiled and said, "People don't have to have a practical purpose for everything they do."

"perhaps……"

A tall, black-haired young man stood by the roadside, looking at an old man not far away, wearing tattered but neat clothes, sitting with difficulty on a bench under the shade of a tree, holding wheat for feeding pigeons in his left hand and holding an equally old dog in his right hand.

The dog followed quietly beside him, taking every step the old man took.

The black-haired boy seemed to be smiling a genuine smile.

"...Perhaps, after playing the role of saving others too many times, sometimes you will seek to be saved by others."