Night Journey

Chapter 115 The Return of the Reverse Falcon
From a young age, Wenxi heard her grandmother tell stories of the Reverse Falcon. Since then, a powerful and silent figure has been etched into her mind. As she grew up, this figure was further imagined and fleshed out.

Originally, the Reverse Falcon would always remain a phantom in Wenxi's heart, until tonight, the phantom and reality overlapped.

It fell apart.

There were no pretentious words, nor was he as taciturn as expected.

After swiftly and decisively killing the walkers, Cillian, like a spectator watching a show, began to command Wenxi.

"Go on, don't worry about me."

Wenxi's face turned red, whether from alcohol or something else, it was hard to tell.

Paul was trying to accept the situation when Wenxi grabbed his collar and kissed him.

He smelled the strong aroma of alcohol and tasted its dampness and softness.

"Yes, that's it!"

Cillian clapped his hands excitedly.

Paul said with difficulty, "I...I'm suffocating..."

Wenxi completely disregarded his feelings, wanting only to release the burning emotions in her chest.

The two embraced tightly, their body parts burning under the light of the soul essence, sending up wisps of white smoke.

"Ha ha……"

Wenxi gasped for breath, her cheeks flushed, the joy of survival just beginning to surface when she caught the stench of burning corpses.

"Uh……"

Wenxi clutched her stomach, and Paul realized something was wrong, but it was too late.

"vomit……"

Wenxi vomited all over Paul, sticky, runny, solid, liquid...

Paul took off his dirty coat, picked up the still-clean cuff, and carefully wiped the corner of Wenxi's mouth.

First came the prophetic story and its reality, then the strange request from the reverse falcon, followed by Wenxi's vomiting—a strange smell mingled together, and some of it got on his pants...

Paul's mind was in a mess, his thoughts were about to explode.

He forced himself to calm down and looked at the pale six eyes in the shadows.

No one could have predicted that the encounter would happen so quickly, catching everyone off guard.

Paul repeated his question to himself, opened his mouth, and tried to seize this rare opportunity.

“Reverse Falcon, you…”

Cillian interrupted him, "Oh ho, kiss a little longer."

Paul felt his thoughts being cut off by something strange, and then Wensey kissed him again.

Thinking about the vomiting he had just experienced, even if Paul loved Wensey very much, it would be difficult for him to enjoy the kiss.

Wenxi didn't care about any of this; drunkenness had regained its hold on her senses, and all she wanted was to cling to Paul like a koala.

While watching the two kiss, Cillian picked up the iron feather.

A crimson tinge appeared on his fingertips. The tough iron feathers in Cirien's hand gradually turned red and softened, allowing him to mold them into a rough ring.

Then the second one.

The kissing finally ended, and Paul took a deep breath of fresh air.

Summoning her courage once more, she prepared to thank the Falcon and, incidentally, ask the question that had troubled her and her grandfather for many years.

Cillian suddenly stepped forward, grabbed Paul's hand, and put the still-red ring on his finger.

The faint sound of flesh being roasted by the high temperature could be heard.

Paul gritted his teeth; the still-warm ring had left a scar on his ring finger, which had become stuck to his flesh.

Cillian raised his hand and gestured to Wenxi.

Paul tried to stop him, "No, let it cool down first..."

"it is good!"

Wenxi stepped forward and obediently extended her hand to Cillian.

"Ah! It hurts!"

Similarly, the ring left a scar on Wenxi's finger.

After doing all this, Cillian retreated back into the shadows and waved goodbye to the two of them.

"I'm sorry, I don't know how to officiate a wedding... Anyway, congratulations on your marriage."

Newly married?

What newlywed?
Paul's mind was about to crash; he couldn't keep up with Cillian's train of thought at all.

How did it suddenly turn from a midnight attack on the film set into a wedding? So, are these two rings wedding rings? Why is Reverse Falcon in the mood to do this?
Paul's mind was filled with far too many questions, like countless noises.

"Wait a minute, Reverse Falcon!"

Paul shouted, but all he heard was silence.

Cillian stopped in his tracks and looked back in confusion.

Paul shouted.

“Reverse Falcon, you have done so much for Hel City, why are you unwilling to face your followers?”

Why do you never express your thoughts... why are you unwilling to establish a new order?

He talked for a long time, almost exhaling all the air from his lungs, and then he breathed heavily, exhausted.

Wenxi was completely oblivious to the serious atmosphere, sometimes laughing and sometimes grimacing from the pain in his finger, talking nonsense.

"Hey! Is this a gift from the Falcon? It's so cool, but... ugh, that hurts!"

She really drank too much.

Cillian was facing Paul, the light from his six eyes casting a pale glow on his face.

Paul swallowed hard, his heart pounding.

In his past records, Gyouhachi had never initiated any communication with others; he always acted alone, disappearing after killing someone. Tonight's exception is a one-time event.

Will my question offend Gyouhachi? Will he kill me in a fit of rage? Or will he leave coldly, just like always?
While Paul was anxiously pondering the situation, Cillian was also hesitating.

How to answer?
Ultimately, he was not the Reverse Falcon; he was merely temporarily using his identity to disrupt Hel City.

But... over this period of time, Cillian has gradually come to like the identity of the Reverse Falcon.

Mysterious, powerful, ruthless, and most importantly, extremely convenient.

So, as the inverted falcon, what should he say?

Cillian's mind went blank.

His entire understanding of the Reverse Falcon came from information provided by Dalyn, making it difficult for him to fabricate any lies to deal with Paul.

Then, let's just answer as Cillian.

Cillian knew how to answer.

"for what?"

A cold, hoarse voice came from beneath the six-eyed winged helmet.

"There's no reason why."

"That's what Cillian replied."

"Just for fun... killing is so satisfying!"

The answer was like a thunderbolt across the night, shattering everything Paul had suppressed in his heart.

— It was burned to ashes.

Paul stood frozen in place, staring blankly, wondering if he had misheard... He couldn't have misheard; this was the answer from the Reverse Falcon.

There were no lofty ideals, nor any heavy responsibilities.

The motives behind the reverse falcon do not stem from some bloody hatred, nor from any deeper or more complex reasons.

It was simply out of interest...

Such a simple, pure, straightforward, and thoughtless motivation.

"Haha."

Paul laughed nervously.

"Hahaha!"

For years, all the thoughts and struggles collapsed into absurd ruins in this one answer.

There were footsteps in the distance.

Paul's gunshot alerted the superhumans on night patrol, who were rushing towards the scene.

Cillian turned and left, disappearing into the shadows of the streets.

Wenxi held Paul, who was still having an attack, and excitedly waved towards the darkness.

Goodbye! Goodbye!

The interlude ended, and Cillian crossed the streets, hurrying towards the nearest river, Shanghe.

In his usual style, after killing the suddenly appearing zombies, he would never make any contact with the citizens.

But when Cirion looked down and saw Wensey's life-or-death kiss, a strange emotion rose in his heart.

joy.

After leaving White Cliff Town, Cillian only felt this pure joy when he killed his enemies.

Cillian was both surprised and delighted.

He once helplessly thought that he really had to live his life as a psychopathic killer so that he could constantly gain joy and make himself happier.

Today, fate has given Cillian another choice.

Is it a longing for love? Or a pursuit of physical desire?
During his long period of contemplation, Cillian was uncertain about the possibility of love. It was too ethereal and elusive. Even Ava, at the end of her life, was unsure of the existence of such feelings.

Is it the latter?

Cillian rejected the idea, reasoning that if he could be so easily controlled by lust, he would have succumbed to it long ago after meeting Valerie.

So what is it?

After much contemplation, Cillian stopped.

He stood in the shadows for a long time, unable to understand the reason, until he inexplicably felt a chill in his body.

Ciri instinctively sensed the impending threat and clenched his left fist, but the Ouroboros Seal did not react to it.

If it's not a threat of chaos, then what kind of crisis could it be?
He gripped the Boiling Sword and looked around warily.

This is a narrow alley with dilapidated high-rise buildings on both sides, their walls peeling away to reveal pitted red bricks.

The light of the soul essence swept across the rooftop, leaving the narrow alleyway in complete darkness.

Ciri looked toward the end of the alley. It had been a little blurry just now, but now he could clearly sense the presence of the person who was coming.

He stood there in the darkness, silently gazing at himself.

"There have been far too many unexpected incidents tonight."

Cirian drew upon the source energy within his body, causing his soul essence to ignite, and a crimson tinge appeared at the edge of the Boiling Sword.

"Come on, I'm in a hurry."

The newcomer agreed with Cillian's words, strode forward, and drew his sword.

At the same time, the clear chirping of birds rang out.

"Cuckoo..."

Cillian's heart skipped a beat, and he turned his head sharply to look.

In the darkness at the end of the narrow alley, six long, narrow eyes gleamed with a blinding white light.

(End of this chapter)