"I think my life is quite lively, I’m just alive." Bologue said.
"It’s not like that, when you’re alone, whether hungry or satiated, it’s ultimately just your own business... You need to care about something, some little lives that need your attention."
"Need care, need attention..."
Walking out from the memories, Bologue was somewhat surprised, not expecting so much time had passed, and so many things had happened.
He also couldn’t recall exactly what he said to Adelle at the time, but in his impression, Bologue was still worried about the ups and downs afterwards, and wasn’t sure whether he would continue to maintain his freedom or be sent back to the Black Prison. So he didn’t pay much heed to the issue of pets.
"I feel my mind is quite healthy, if it wasn’t, I would’ve gone insane in the Black Prison long ago... As for pets, I’ll consider it."
Bologue didn’t think it was a problem.
Geoffrey was momentarily at a loss for words. Was there really nothing wrong with Bologue? He did seem fine, a perfectly normal person capable of effective communication, but did Bologue really have no problems in his mind? Geoffrey had his doubts about this.
Just like being in an asylum for too long, Bologue had already absorbed some of the madness, yet he failed to notice it, considering such "abnormality" as "normal."
Geoffrey had clearly realized these things over the year they spent together, so he would always intentionally or unintentionally interfere with Bologue, not expecting Bologue to be cured, but at least to prevent further deterioration, and to maintain a resemblance of being human, whether in appearance or in mental state.
Awkwardly coughing twice, Geoffrey dug into his pocket, took out a ticket, and handed it to Bologue.
"You should find something to do, meet some living people... How about watching a play?"
Bologue accepted the ticket, a theatre ticket, with time and location printed on it, along with the programs to be performed.
Bologue did not reject Geoffrey’s goodwill and put the ticket away.
In fact, Bologue thought he didn’t need rest. Being resurrected, he was like a strong iron man, iron-cast body, iron-cast will.
He thought it was pretty good, but Bologue also understood that being so lively inevitably caused Geoffrey to worry, so he might as well listen to him and relax appropriately, not for himself, but to give peace of mind to those around him.
"I really theatre group, if it weren’t for the overtime these days, I wouldn’t have had the time to go, so you benefit." Geoffrey added.
"Then... shall I head back?"
Geoffrey urged Bologue to leave, Bologue got up and walked to the door, just about to push it when he turned back.
"Oh, Geoffrey, when I captured Norm, I also obtained some unknown potions and Philosopher’s Stone, how should you deal with these things?" he asked.
Geoffrey understood Bologue’s meaning and responded.
"There are people specialized in examining the potion’s components, and the Philosopher’s Stone as well. We’ll hand it over to the Alchemists, letting them revert the Philosopher’s Stone to the ’Golden Soul.’ I’ll have them pay attention to distinguish the soul within, and if it’s Adelle’s soul, I will inform you."
Hearing such a reply, Bologue nodded, glanced at the chessboard, and picked up the black pawn, holding it in his hand.
Bologue said, waved goodbye to Geoffrey, and left directly before Geoffrey could say anything.
The return journey seemed somewhat prolonged without the Key of the Crooked Path. Each time returning from the Order Bureau to his home could be counted as a long voyage, Bologue decided to either get hold of a Key of the Crooked Path later, or to move to the Ligna District, as this damned commute was truly torturous.
Walking along the street to the station, perhaps due to the upcoming winter, the cold of the night could be distinctly felt, with a few withered leaves hanging on the dry trees, rustling with noise.
Bologue’s hands were tucked in his pockets, still clutching that pawn tightly.
He was thinking about some things, things Bologue himself wasn’t sure how to describe.
Bologue felt that naming this Extraordinary Power using chess pieces wasn’t for any resemblance reason; it should have a deeper meaning.
Whether a lowly ’Condenser’ or an exalted ’Seeker of Glory,’ all these chess pieces were members on the board from the beginning to the end...
So is it possible that outside this vast chessboard, something is watching over it, they are hidden Chess Players, since hundreds or even thousands of years ago, holding matches, and this dispute has not ended to this day.
Bologue’s steps came to a halt, a chill arising from the deepest part of his soul burst forth, spreading from the heart and coursing through the surging blood to encompass everything around him.
Taking a deep breath, exhaling a puff of white mist, Bologue ceased his thoughts and headed straight into the darkness.