Chapter 543 Bram: This is all for the plot
Bram Stoker was lying leisurely on a chair in the hotel, with a thick ancient book on his lap, flipping through the pages casually.
Next to him was a full glass of red wine.
He read for a while, then closed the book and put it aside. He propped himself up and sat up, raising his red wine glass to the sunlight.
The wine in this red wine glass is not clear, but rather a bit viscous.
Under the sunlight outside the window, a black substance, like a living thing, flowed through the transparent red wine. It was a black solid that looked like a tiny parasite.
Bram shook his glass with satisfaction and tapped it with his fingers.
Under the stimulation of external forces, the black tentacles inside danced rapidly and gathered together. The less clear parts condensed into a mass, shrinking into a red ball the size of a date, with several black tentacles pulsating like blood vessels.
"—not thick enough."
Bram commented.
He took out a glass test tube from his bosom and dripped a few drops of blood into it. The blood floated on top of the wine, looking like a pool of oil.
He then cut his wrists and let his own blood drip into them as well.
The two kinds of blood mixed together and sank. The condensed "heart" was hit by external force and shattered again, dissolving into liquid wine.
"Okay, let's take a break."
Bram said leisurely, "Let's have some lunch and continue later."
In the corner of the room, an old troll with his upper body naked and his back covered with runes was kneeling on the ground facing the stove.
Hearing this, he silently began to pack up his things. He placed the black herbs back into the herbal bag, picked up the leeches, and placed them in the bottle. He then added a transparent, oil-like liquid.
He stood up silently, his hunched back looking extremely oppressive.
His back and abdomen were covered in scars, and the muscles in his waist and back were twisted like ropes. His face was old and withered, and his clenched jaw and neck were covered in bulging muscles, like the muscles in a sailor's forearm.
"You're free anyway. Help me lock Aiwass's location with a curse."
Bram rested his arms on his knees, grinning as he tossed a large paper bag of golden fried chicken to the old troll. "Consider this as a payment for food... You eat first. I'll tell you, and you listen."
"—Don't worry about getting into trouble. This has nothing to do with you. It's a good opportunity to tell you... where you're going next. That way you can put your mind at ease."
He watched the old troll wolfing down the fried chicken, then smiled and raised his glass and shook it.
"You know the ancient kingdom of Parthia. There was a kind ruler there named Adil. He was known as the Generous Adil.
"He needs a reliable ritual mage right now... and anyone you invite to Anxi could be an undercover agent from another city. Therefore, the troll wizard invited from the southern continent is extremely valuable..."
As he spoke, he suddenly stretched out his hand and drew a simple rune in the air.
The old troll suddenly turned red all over, as if a light was turned on under his skin - the same red you see on the back of your hand when you shine a flashlight through the palm of your hand.
His muscles twitched in agony, and he shrank into a ball at a visible speed. He immediately spat out the fried chicken he had just eaten—not out of vomiting, but out of fear of choking.
But even so, the old troll remained silent... Even though his neck was straight and red, he still didn't make any sound of pain or begging for mercy.
“Tsk.”
Seeing this, Bram made a sound of complaint, clenched his fist in displeasure, and stopped punishing the old troll.
He tossed the half-empty bottle of red wine to the old troll and leaned back, saying, "You wouldn't be able to endure the hardship if you followed him. Although supplies are scarce in Parthia, the situation with the Good Lord is not much worse than that of the Theocracy. Even though it's in the desert, it's not that hot—there are ice makers to keep the temperature up."
"Although you're old, I can still give you potions and extend your lifespan. If you want women, I have them too. We have women of all races, even elves. If you like animals, we have griffins, Pegasus, maybe even dragons... The Good Lord has everything, and we can get you anything. It's better to say that's the homeland of the goblins.
"Over in the southern continent, getting caught in the rain, bitten by bugs, gnawing on tree bark every day... is that fun? So we're not enemies, it's just a matter of mutual benefit—I'll send you to a better place and earn some travel money. And don't always look so sullen...
"From another perspective, you're going to rest anyway. It's far from the Theocracy. Even if you commit a crime here, no one will pursue you. Over there... if you commit a crime, you hide in the desert; once you put on the white turban, you hide in other cities. Anyway, information doesn't flow between cities, so they can't even catch someone committing a crime there, let alone you.
"That's the purpose of a curse master. If you can't catch someone, you have to have a way to punish them. Whether or not they're actually killed by the curse doesn't matter, but the key is that it looks scary, that's what scares people..."
As he spoke, Bram looked at the taciturn old troll in front of him.
If the old man stood upright, he would have been three meters tall. Even in the Theocracy, where elves were everywhere, this was undoubtedly tall. He looked thin, but not frail. His dry skin and taut muscles gave him the appearance of a werewolf, a menacing figure.
"...I came specifically to find you because you are well-known in the Southern Continent."
He smiled faintly. "You killed your father, your uncle, all your brothers, and even your cousins. You killed so many people, yet the Beast Song Tribe prospered under your leadership... And all this, ultimately, is because you were once a slave of the Star Antimony people."
Hearing this, the old troll suddenly raised his head, his sharp and scarlet pupils looking like a hungry wolf in the suburbs.
But Bram remained silent. "Yes, I have heard of your past. You were once sold to Star Antimony, where you mastered the Star Antimony language through self-study. You served as your master's ritual assistant, secretly learning his rituals, spells, and curses. Then, you killed him, boarded a small boat, and rowed back to the southern continent—a twenty-eight-day drift."
"After all, you've returned from a civilized world after 'further training,' and your perspective differs from that of your ignorant kin. Now, over sixty years later, you've aged and retired from your position as tribal leader... When I interviewed you earlier, you provided me with valuable material. I have to say, my novel featuring you is a huge hit at Iris.
"They used this novel to satirize the Star Antimony people's slave trade, and also to implicitly satirize the violence and unreliability of the trolls. My writing is excellent, and I vividly portrayed the dangers of your twenty-eight days of adventure at sea—of course, I know you spent that month fishing. But to highlight human nature and plot conflict, I had you flee with your companion, and then eat him on the way out of hunger."
"…I didn't kill Babimu."
Suddenly, the old troll said, "I didn't eat her."
This was the first time he spoke, his voice old and hoarse: "I remember telling you that she fell into the water accidentally. The wind and waves were too strong at that time... I was too hungry and couldn't catch her."
Bram pressed his hands down. "I know, I know. But this doesn't make sense... Reality is irrational, but novels strive for rationality. If you kill off an important character you've been writing about for a long time just because of something like a storm, readers will think it's too simple."
"But the fact is..."
"It's called serving the story's tension—you don't understand. Anyway, you eat your lover..."
"She is not my wife either. I didn't know her before."
"It doesn't matter. We could have been lovers for a day. Anyway, you ate her, painfully but resolutely. This created an image of a hero for you. In Parthia, you're quite famous. You could even be considered the epitome of a troll wizard."
Bram's lips curled up slightly. "That's why someone came to me to buy the 'protagonist prototype.' That's why I have the opportunity to introduce you to such a good job, old friend. That benefactor saw this novel and wanted to invite you to come."
"For your own safety, it's best to cooperate. Let's compare our statements. Just accept the lies I told you; they're all for the plot and to express the author's emotions. Besides you and me, no one else knows they're not true..."
When he said this, he suddenly shuddered and became serious.
Like a spider touched in a web, he leaped up from the sofa and transformed into a streak of gray light, flying into the house.
But at this moment, the time around him suddenly began to slow down.
The midday light faded, and everything in the room grew dim. Even the vermilion wine glass dimmed, the liquid inside seemingly turning black.
The dim yellow light spread all around.
Bram's fleeing figure was suddenly frozen in mid-air!
Update completed!
I was a little hungry so I went to eat a meal. After eating, I felt a little sleepy so I took a nap. So the second chapter is a little late~
Sorry, meow (holding head)
Oh yeah! Fourteen days have passed, and a group of Avalon has been resurrected!
To fit the plot, the group of Avalon who restored the country has changed its name to Camelot, marking the entry of the game plot into version 3.0 (
(End of this chapter)
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