In the morning of Oubos, on the empty streets, inside a pastry shop that seemed to have been looted by thugs...
The Undead and the Alchemy Puppet stared at each other across the table, finding brief peace in this bizarre current of time.
Bologue slumped in his chair, jokingly said, "Come on, I traveled a long way to find you, saying that would make me sad."
"Bologue, you’re not suited to say such things," Aimou spat out the chewed pastry, "It sounds disgusting coming from you."
"I have to say, if you really want to eat sweets, you can ask for my help. I don’t mind getting a bit fatter myself, and, your eating manner is too unsightly."
Bologue glanced at the nearby plate, Aimou couldn’t consume food, so she chewed it into a mush-like consistency. It must be quite embarrassing for her to be seen by Bologue doing this.
Aimou put down her fork, gazing at the leisurely-looking Bologue. In this repeated Time Reversal, Bologue always managed to find her. She had sensed something amiss.
"How do you always manage to find me?"
"After all, we are brothers in arms, is it too much to say we have a special bond?"
Bologue wanted to resolve Aimou’s matter in this fifth Time Reversal, so he simply gave up the disguise, unfazed by the trap in Aimou’s words.
Aimou’s expression turned cold; Bologue’s answer was just brushing her off, and someone as professional as Bologue didn’t even point out the error in her phrase "always."
Yes, from Bologue’s perspective, this was their first meeting after the Time Reversal began, but from Aimou’s perspective, this was already the third time. Aimou didn’t believe this was a coincidence.
Bologue raised his hand, showcasing his unique gloves. ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ noᴠelfire.net
The gloves were wrapped in cables with some intricate mechanical structures on them, and there was a pointer on the back of the glove, which was now firmly pointing at Aimou.
Aimou instantly understood what was going on. Her current body was crafted by Belli, and it was all too easy for her to do some tinkering.
Bologue fiddled with his palm, admiring the exquisite structure, "Didn’t expect Belli to have some use after all."
In the fourth Time Reversal, after meeting with Lebius, Bologue informed Lebius about the intelligence he gathered from Belli in the previous reversals.
To prevent accidents and optimize actions, Bologue requested Lebius to go to Belli immediately after the Time Reversal to obtain the tracker and support from the Alchemy Armament.
Honestly, Bologue anticipated that scene quite a lot, the sleepy-eyed Belli would open the door to find the grim-faced Lebius standing behind it... Surely, that would have scared her stiff.
For Lebius of the Wolf Pack to visit her so early in the morning, how could she not feel uneasy?
Then, in this fifth Time Reversal, after Bologue inserted the key and started the car in the parking lot, Lebius sat in the passenger seat with the required Alchemy Armament and tracker.
Bologue was grateful for his intuition; in the fourth Time Reversal, Aimou considered him a confidant, sharing her unbearable pain and crazy thoughts.
Bologue thought Aimou would make completely different choices thereafter, and indeed, she did.
When Bologue drove Lebius into the battlefield, the original plans were altered, Aimou didn’t appear there, nor did the King’s Shield Guard.
The car exploded into a ball of fire, releasing a fierce black smoke as it burned. Bologue stood by the fire, using the flames from the car wreckage to light a cigarette for himself.
Lebius glanced at Bologue, "I remember you don’t smoke."
"I rarely smoke, only when the pressure gets a bit intense, I might want some... It’s a bad habit I picked up during military service; I thought the experiences in Black Prison would make me forget them, but clearly, it’s ingrained in my instincts."
Bologue bought this pack of cigarettes half a year ago and only smoked one or two. He took big drags, tasting nothing.
"You probably haven’t fought in trench warfare, right? I feel it’s no different than battling in Hell."
Perhaps to alleviate the inner agitation, Bologue unusually mentioned his past to Lebius.
"Usually, trench warfare lasts for several months, you can only hide in that cramped trench. Such a small place becomes your battlefield.
You can’t see where the enemy is or how they’re attacking, it feels like fighting against a swarm of phantoms.
Bullets occasionally whiz over your head, shells explode meters away from you, and besides praying, there’s nothing you can do.
Your comrades will die without warning, and you have to carry their bodies out of the trench, stacking them like sandbags, then fire back at the enemy from their bodies."
Bologue took a simple drag of the cigarette and stopped, silently watching it burn, bit by bit turning into ash-white dust.
"Everywhere there’s scorching smoke, you think the rainy days would save your heated spirit, but the rain washes over the dead bodies, blood mixes with the rainwater flooding into the trench, and it will mix with your excrement.
In the stench, rats gnaw at the corpses in the shadows, spreading disease, your skin will inflame, swell, and some might even rot away.