A brave man may not live, but he cannot die

Chapter 143 Ties
"Hakiqua, you bastard."

Quinn was somewhat touched, and a lame remark slipped out: "I definitely want to be reincarnated on Earth in my next life. I want to recommend a religious mobile game where you can be a guard."

Ankuya glanced at him.

"Unless Lin has a piece of holy sword-level armor, this plan will not go wrong."

After spending some time together, Ankuya had become quite used to Quinn's auspicious words.

He leaned back on the sofa, turned off the astronomical projector, and his gaze was calm and profound.

"An interesting idea about the next life. Do you Earthlings really believe in being able to live again after death?"

Quinn shrugged.

"It depends on the region. In my country, people believe that if you do good deeds in life, you can be reborn into a rich family and enjoy happiness after death. Otherwise, you will suffer to repay your karmic debts. If you do too many bad things, you may be reborn as an animal, such as a chicken, duck, cow, or sheep. The worst off are hungry ghosts."

In Taymourne, reincarnation after death is considered evil witchcraft and a form of cult.

"In some regions, there is no concept of reincarnation. Good people's souls ascend to heaven after death, while bad people's souls fall into hell."

Ankuya listened quietly.

What is Heaven like?

"Flowing with milk and honey, enjoying eternal bliss—who knows? The evidence for the existence of Heaven, like the evidence for the existence of the Water Dragon King Paradise, is all written in books."

"That sounds like the idea of ​​the Holy Tree Cult and the Eternal Cult."

According to the teachings of the Holy Tree Cult, after death, a person's soul returns to the primordial World Tree that gave birth to heaven and earth, becoming nutrients to nourish the Holy Tree until new leaves fall and transform into a brand new soul.

The Eternal Cult is quite interesting. The doctrine of the Eternal and Time Dragon is that "all suffering in the world originates from the flow of time." After death, people fall into a state of "neither life nor death, only time stops flowing," and the Dragon Lord sleeps in this gap in time, waiting for believers to arrive.

Quinn took a sip of the wine. As expected of the top-quality wine that the Branson family used to bribe their commissioners, even someone who wasn't an expert in wine tasting could taste its rich aroma. Seeing that Quinn's glass was empty, Ankuya poured him another glass.

"But if reincarnation really exists, you could go to Earth and see what your world is like." He said as he poured wine, the warm light from the wall lamp making his exposed eye seem less cold.

“Wow.” Quinn clicked his tongue in amazement. “I thought you were going to say you wanted to be reincarnated as a demon in your next life.”

"That's not bad."

Ankuya nodded in approval.

"After we succeed, the demon race will multiply in this world. Perhaps one day, we will be reborn into the golden age of the demon race."

Quinn did not doubt the claim of a "golden age".

He studied a lot of information about demons. Although humans and demons are different races, their habits are extremely similar. Grindelwald's books are very realistic. Unlike other storybooks, he does not portray demons as heinous and ferocious creatures. Demons are not the same as the "demons" summoned from the spirit world by summoning spells. On the contrary, they love "beauty" and "art" even more than humans.

At least that's what the book says.

"Why do you want to go to Earth?" Quinn asked.

Ankua's long eyelashes fluttered, and she looked at him.

"because of you."

"Damn it, bro, don't mess with me—" Quinn felt a chill run down his spine. "I'm straight. Forced relationships never work."

Ankua's eyes quickly turned cold, as if asking, "Are you out of your mind?"

However, he didn't scold Quinn, but said, "I'm curious. What kind of world could produce someone like you?"

"What do you mean?" Quinn retorted. "Am I that strange?"

Ankua crossed her legs, stopped looking at him, and continued to stare blankly at the ceiling.

"Although I hate to admit it, we have some things in common."

"You mean your face?" Quinn touched his stubble that he hadn't shaved before leaving the house, and wholeheartedly agreed.

Ankua didn't care at all. A real handsome man doesn't react to comments about appearance. If you say he's handsome, he'll just say "not really." But if you say you're as handsome as him, he'll smile and nod, "Yes, yes."

"It's precisely because we have some things in common that I want to know what changed you and made your personality the way it is."

"What will it become?"

“A cold, selfish guy who has never relaxed since childhood and is annoyed by everything he encounters—” Ankuya’s voice was very flat: “How did he become a weirdo who spouts nonsense, unconsciously uses abstract words, and becomes somewhat indifferent to everything?”

"This isn't called being weird; it's called having an optimistic attitude towards life."

"Are you optimistic?" Ankuya didn't believe it.

Quinn stopped smiling and fell silent.

After a long while, he shrugged.

"Change is not necessarily related to the world. The world may have determined what kind of person I was at the beginning, but the things I encountered and the people I met later will affect my life."

He smiled and said to Ankuya, "Just like three months ago, you would never have said these things to me. You wouldn't have responded to my nonsense, nor would you have chatted with me. At most, you would have left me with a 'Don't talk about anything outside of work' and sent me away."

Ankuya was taken aback.

He neither acknowledged nor denied Quinn's words.

So, who changed you?

"It's probably the amazing internet."

Ankuya stood up, ending the casual conversation.

"Remember to lock the door when you leave."

"Where?"

"I have work to do."

He didn't say much and hurriedly walked out the door.

He was still holding the unfinished bottle of wine in his hand, but when he put on his shoes at the door, he hesitated for a moment and finally put the wine aside.

Hearing the door close, Quinn took small sips of his wine. Ankuya always had a lot of work to do; that's how busy people are.

After finishing his drink, he glanced at the door leading to the side hall, hesitated for a moment, and then decided to go in and read with Xia Dai'er.

Since we're leaving, some things should be made clear.

Although it may seem cruel, heartbreak is something everyone experiences in life, and in retrospect, it's not such a big deal.

Quinn was consciously taking advantage of Chaldale's feelings for him, and he knew that this behavior was somewhat despicable. Although he didn't feel any remorse, he still decided to resolve the Starlight issue for the Branson family after this incident.

In the emails between Jack and "Mr. Q," it was mentioned that Chaldale's father, Reeve, had inhaled starlight and showed signs of addiction. This may explain why the Branson family head has been recuperating all these years.

If the college finds out about this, they will definitely take action.

Quinn didn't know how Reeve would be treated, but if Elon died in his and Ancoua's plan, then Chaldale would become the sole heir of the Branson family.

If Reeve doesn't recover, the senator's position will be inherited by the young girl. With her shrewd mother around, Chaldale will be pushed to the forefront, becoming the representative of the Branson family, with more autonomy and status.

Instead of becoming a tool for currying favor with those in power, as it is today.

Quinn was about to knock on the door when he heard Chaldale's devout voice coming from the side hall—

“O Goddess of Perfect Order and Holy Spirit, your child, Chaldale Branson, prays to you, thanking you for bestowing upon me purity, health, and joy, allowing me the opportunity to continue living, learning, and loving. Please bless me and my family with good health and happiness. May your will be done in my life.”

Quinn lowered his hand, which was about to knock. Were they performing their daily prayers?
Although Chaldale skips church services because of Quinn, she is not a fanatic. However, as a student at a White Church girls' private school and having grown up in a White Church family, her faith is considered devout.

The daily prayer times differ among various religions. For example, the Vatican prays in the morning when the sun rises, the Eternalist Church prays at any time when the bells ring, and the White Church prays when one wakes up from an afternoon nap.

If you calculate the time, it's right now.

Quinn didn't want to disturb her, so he turned and went upstairs to take a shower in Ankuya's bathroom.

Although he wasn't injured, he inevitably had a bit of the smell of blood on him. He needed to get back to the academy that night and clean himself up.

The academy's black robes were kept in his bedroom, where he came every Thursday to settle his affairs. Given Ankuya's cautious nature, his residence naturally couldn't have any traces of demons; his most valuable possessions were the arcane books and the wine.

Holding a white umbrella, Ankuya stepped out of his house.

He didn't leave immediately, but instead went around to the backyard, hiding in the lush garden, and looked out at the girl who was praying with her hands clasped and eyes closed inside the window.

A moment later, he opened his mouth and began to vomit in a low voice.

He vomited the half-bottle of whiskey he had drunk onto the ground, wasting at least twenty pounds.

The man, pale from vomiting, took out his wand. A spark flew, and he burned the wine in the soil completely.

The ethereal voice seemed to descend from an infinite height, carrying a resplendent divinity as it entered Ankuya's mind.

—Well done.

He held up his umbrella, looked away without looking any longer, wiped his mouth, and turned to leave.

"Is it really worth keeping him here just because of something like this?"

He asked, as if talking to himself.

No.

But these kinds of bonds, little by little, will one day become strong enough to touch people's hearts.

Isn't that right, Ankuya?
Ankua didn't answer.

Outside the courtyard of the mansion, a blonde girl skipped and hopped, leading a chocobo bicycle and waving at him.

Quinn sat in the bathtub, surrounded by steam.

Ankuya is someone who knows how to enjoy life.

The house didn't have any guest rooms. The largest room on the second floor was converted into a bathroom, which was tiled with marble like a bathhouse in a Roman palace. Two pillars created a sense of depth, and there were fragrances and green plants next to the spacious ceramic bathtub that could comfortably accommodate two people.

A chemical was added to the water, making it as white as milk. This chemical was not a shower gel; it functioned more like bleach to completely remove any odor.

Quinn's family was never well-off in the first half of his life. When he took a bath, he would fill a bucket with water in the rural courtyard, scrub himself with laundry soap, and then rinse off. If it was winter and he came home late from work without time to light a fire, he would grit his teeth, pour cold water on himself, and then warm himself up in bed.

Such a person naturally doesn't have the habit of taking baths. Even after he got money in high school and installed a water heater, he still maintained the habit of taking quick showers. However, for Mi Yutong's sake, he would clean himself up a bit, at least to make sure he didn't smell bad when he was in tutoring class or on a date.

Her house does have a bathtub. If it weren't for the fact that she could enter that mansion, Quinn probably would never have imagined that a house could have more than a dozen bathrooms, and even the shower head in the maid's room was a German import worth tens of thousands of yuan.

Of course, it pales in comparison to this place. Ankua certainly has a discerning eye for aesthetics; his bathroom is decorated like a palace.

Quinn's gaze wandered as he thought of Ankuya.

A cold, selfish guy who's never let his guard down since childhood and is annoyed by everything he encounters—what a foul mouth!

But Quinn had to admit that Ankuya was right.

He was like that, at least until he graduated from high school.

He was someone who didn't smile much, had few friends, almost no entertainment activities, and whose social life consisted entirely of working at the shop. In order to interact with those guys who were much older than him, he had to pretend to be mature and eventually, without realizing it, he became the unsociable guy in the eyes of his classmates.

Is it because of Mi Yutong?
No, the persona I portrayed in my relationship with her was a carefully constructed one.

What you glean from anime, books, and Nordic fantasy—from every male guest chatting and laughing with his female companion—is not genuine.

So when did I become a weirdo who talks nonsense, subconsciously spouts abstract phrases, and becomes somewhat indifferent to everything?

Who changed me?

Strangely, Quinn had no recollection of this at all.

It's as if I unconsciously, naturally, and subtly transformed into who I am now during my four years of university.

Quinn felt something was off.

Enveloped in hot water, I felt light and warm, almost drowsy.

Perhaps it's because I've had too much to drink that I'm thinking about these random things.

"call"

He stared blankly at the ceiling, his thoughts wandering uncontrollably. He stopped thinking about things that were rambling and started thinking about how to explain things to Xia Dai'er.

I don't like you.

I have someone I like.

Sorry.

Something like that.

Will she cry?

I'm sure I will.

Quinn could almost picture it: with Chaldale's feigned indifference, it was clear that he wasn't rejecting her confession, but rather stating it outright. She could easily have feigned an attitude of "What's going on? I only see you as a friend" to get away with it—and she would most likely have done so.

But when I get home, I might burst into tears before I even have a chance to leave.

What a terrible person.
He remembered the girl's eyes.

The heavy, lingering sensation seemed to still remain on my back and hands, like a hazy dream.

Even the water temperature seemed to rise, and the steaming mist seemed to still retain the warmth of the girl's body. The delicate sandalwood scent made his heart beat faster.

"Tsk, what are you thinking about a girl who's six or seven years younger than you?"

Quinn stopped soaking. Seeing that the bloodstains and smell had mostly dissipated, he submerged in the water one last time, letting the potion soak his hair. He then stood up and shook his head vigorously to clear his mind.

But then, he suddenly jolted awake.

The soft touch of his fingertips came from the water, and for some reason, his pale body pressed against hers.

Quinn's mind went blank for a moment.

I didn't close the door?

Wait, when did she come in? Why didn't I notice?

"Quinn."

The girl's voice, suppressing her shyness, came from the mist, conveying her feelings to him with courage, straightforward and genuine.

"I like you."

(End of this chapter)