The Strange Adventures of Hearn the Believer

"Rosetta, you actually intended to bite me, ugh... you almost ripped my ears off."

"You can take a few more glances at the deep, bottomless scratches on my face. That might make you feel better. Then, while you're at it, cast three layers of Rejuvenation on yourself. If you don't even know basic Druid healing spells, you might as well find a block of tofu and kill yourself."

"Stop looking down on people!"

……

"Alright, let's get back to the main topic."

"Yes, the important matter concerns how you will be honest with that little princess who is far more resilient and stubborn than she appears."

"It's very simple, just recount our first trip five years ago."

"Are you sure you want to tell her everything in detail? I suggest you think it over carefully and be selective... After all, that sounds a bit too shocking."

"Of course, at the same time, memory will beautify some details that were not pleasant in the first place, that's for sure. Yonglin, that's why I came to you. I need another witness besides myself to re-examine our past experiences through comparison, to ensure objectivity and truth as much as possible, and then make appropriate modifications before finally conveying them."

“Believer, I understand your meaning completely, but I think we encountered an insurmountable obstacle from the very beginning, a dead knot woven by your own hands.”

"Oh? Tell me."

“I cannot understand your choice back then, believer. I know that the fall of the God of All Machines and his creations, as well as the complete extinction of the Children of Earth, are inextricably linked to you, but I never imagined that what you took from the Silver Ridge was not Pandora, but Charlotte!”

“No, Eirin, in fact—only children make choices.”

……

Chapter 63 When the Devil Knocks on the Door

As the sun sets, the evening breeze from the Alps, carrying the gentle chimes of St. Peter's Church, caresses the Limmat River before flowing into Lake Zurich. The blood-red sunset casts a streak of golden-red hues onto the azure surface. On the northern shore, returning black swans soar past yachts and white sails moored at the dock, their soaring silhouettes proud and elegant. They gradually disappear into the distance, becoming indistinct black dots until they vanish completely against the backdrop of an oil painting-like orange-red sky. The shimmering lake water glows with a golden light under the setting sun. Tireless tourists board speedboats and cruise across the lake at sunset, leaving trails of white ripples as they pass.

The young man stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, turning his gaze away from the fiery sunset clouds. The evening breeze blowing from the south bank carried the moisture from Lake Zurich into the room, and on the wall, an old-fashioned mechanical clock faithfully recorded the current time.

At 12:18 PM on December 19, 2092, there was less than a week until Christmas was approaching in this ancient Swiss water town.

This is a Gothic-style building that looks quite old, with a pointed, dark roof and aged brick and stone exterior. The shimmering lake water shines through the equally pointed metal fence, casting a golden light onto the snow-white walls and illuminating the lonely shadow of the swing. The courtyard is covered with lush green grass.

He casually took a bottle of red wine from the wine cabinet, slowly pushed open the door, and went to the open-air garden on the third floor. Apart from a few evergreen plants, most of the nursery was in a state of decay.

On one side of the nursery, near Lake Zurich, a small table was quietly set up. A robust man, whose appearance made one genuinely worry about the nanmu chair he was sitting on, sat calmly at the table. The young man stepped forward, skillfully removed the cork from the bottle, and slowly poured the dark red wine into the stemmed glass in front of him.

“Let’s not talk about the year, anyway, it’s just mouthwash in your mouth.” The woman sat opposite him and began to pour herself a drink. After a moment, he raised his wine glass in a gesture of respect, “Merry Christmas a week early, Makishima.”

“Merry Christmas, Hern.” Mr. Urie Makishima, who would be returning to the Far East the next day to spend the Christmas holidays with his family, responded with a toast.

Then came a sound like mouthwash, followed by the sound of an empty wine glass falling heavily onto the table.

The woman bit the rim of her glass, sipping her red wine, and stared silently at the other person.

The muscular man, who was at least 1.95 meters tall, felt a chill run down his spine under his gaze.

"Makishima".

"what?"

"Let Christmas stay."

“I refuse. I want to go back to the Far East to spend Christmas with my dear sister and younger sister.”

"Really don't think about it?"

"Not consider."

"Looks like my 82 Lafite went down the toilet," the believer sighed, shaking her head.

"Damn it, who are you calling a toilet? You motherfucker! Why are you hurting innocent girls? And 537 of them at once!" Makishima jumped up from his chair.

"Please stop this baseless framing. I have never harmed 573 girls."

"There are actually 573. It seems the intelligence from the outside was wrong."

“I’m sharing my family’s collection with you not because I expect you to join forces with those media professionals who start their internships four years in advance, my friend.”

"I really can't bear those four words. To be honest, the main reason I chose to go back to the Far East for this Christmas holiday is because I don't want to become cannon fodder that you sell off when you run away on Christmas Day, seven days later."

"Look at my sincere eyes. Do I look like the kind of person who would betray a close friend I've known for less than four months?"

"Just a minute ago you were treating your best friend like a toilet!"

"Calm down, Makishima. The truth is not what the paparazzi are saying."

"I thought about it very calmly, which is why I resolutely decided to go home for the holiday."

“Those are all rumors. I have never entered their bodies, only their lives. I was just a passerby,” the believer Hearn said sadly.

"So this is the reason why 213 single boys and dumped lesbians decided to band together and block you?" Makishima was shocked.

"Really? So there were lesbians among those 573 girls? I had no idea."

"You're really amazing for straightening out multiple lesbians without even knowing it."

"Makishima, sit down. The sun has set. Your loud noise will upset the neighbors." Nobunaga waved her hand.

“Sitting down to talk won’t help.” Makishima plopped back down on the small camphor wood chair. “You know my principles. I won’t use violence against women unless it’s absolutely necessary. So if you’re hoping to use me as a human shield, let me tell you the truth—it won’t be as effective as you walking around with a few purebred pit bulls.”

"How incredibly lonely must my life be to spend Christmas with a few dogs?"

"Then my only advice to you is—start right now and walk up the Limmat River, praying at every one of the Zurich Cathedral, St. Peter's Church, and the Church of Our Lady, and see if the merciful Lord, Holy Spirit, and Holy Son will send down a miracle to redeem your sinful soul in distress." Makishima made the sign of the cross on his chest.

“That’s wonderful, Chiba Christian.” The believer rolled her eyes. “Will your God forgive those filthy desires you have for your sister?”

“Please respect my beliefs, and then go to hell with Hearn,” Makishima retorted, then recalled an incident from two months ago. “Didn’t you say you were planning to study at Cambridge Theological Seminary before coming to Zurich?”

"If I step into any church, the Son of God on the cross will shed tears of blood."

"To put it simply, you graduated from the second year of junior high school five years ago."

"Okay, actually my mom told me that the road was too damn tough and that it was better not to continue down that path, so I volunteered for the Soviet Union."

"The atmosphere suddenly became Soviet, even though I knew perfectly well you were referring to our college."

"Never mind, I will handle my own affairs properly. From now on, this is just a short farewell party." Xin Nu waved her hand, indicating that he had given up his previous proposal, and the atmosphere returned to normal.

"Considering that I will most likely meet you at the cemetery when I fly back to Zurich next time, you used the word 'farewell' very well."

"Makishima, don't forget I have your sister's contact information, if you keep spouting those insults."

"Damn, when did you get this?"

"She contacted me first, but I can't disclose the channel. She wanted me to keep an eye on you, the only able-bodied young man in her family, and not to mess around outside."

"Being supervised by you because of this kind of thing makes me feel like the world should just be destroyed."

"Don't easily ruin the happiness of 3.5 billion ordinary people, Makishima. Leave the things like destroying and saving the world to a 17-year-old high school student in the prime of his life. Besides, who would destroy the world for no reason, idiot?"

"Alright, then let's talk about what you did when you were 17? By the way, I was preparing for exams, working out, playing basketball, and celebrating my youth." Seeing that Hearn was no longer dwelling on the Christmas stunt, Makishima relaxed, his tone became cheerful, and he tried to talk about the past.

Makishima met this bookish-looking guy nearly four months ago at the start of the school year. Hearn was a geophysics major while he was a mechanical design major. Although they weren't in the same major, they inexplicably hit it off from the moment they got into the same taxi after leaving the airport. In the final days of summer, they raised their white sails together on the azure Lake Zurich for the last purely exhibition sailing race. After a chaotic mudslide, they won a place and forged a deep friendship. This quiet Gothic house on the north shore of Lake Zurich is one of the properties owned by Hearn's mother. On every clear day, the Northern Hemisphere sun breaks through the clouds and casts a magnificent glow. Sitting in the rooftop garden, one can take in most of the scenery of Lake Zurich.

Of course, it is probably because of this privileged upbringing that this man, whom even Steel Lala couldn't help but want to hug, is not only well-mannered and knowledgeable, but also has an outrageously scumbag view of relationships.

"Destroy the world," Hearn, sitting opposite, replied calmly after taking a sip of red wine.

“Idiot! Aa ...

"It's getting late." Makishima looked up at the sky. The sun had already set, and the hands of the mechanical clock skipped past 8 p.m.

He stood up from his seat. "Hearn, I have to be at the airport on time tomorrow morning, so I have to go back to my dorm now."

“I have plenty of empty rooms here. Are you really not considering moving in next semester?” Hern watched him walk to the gate at the entrance to the garden and made the sincere suggestion.

"No thanks." Makishima stopped in front of the door, leaning against the doorframe and refusing with a serious expression.

"I'm heartbroken. My best friend has rejected me."

“…Hearn, has anyone ever reminded you…that you are sometimes a little…” Makishima said, his expression solemn and conflicted as he carefully chose his words.

"Are you angry?"

“Yes.” Mr. Makishima nodded solemnly.

"No, I've been a super pure hunk since the moment I was born," Hearn replied matter-of-factly, casually tossing a strand of hair behind his left temple in the evening breeze.

“…Okay, goodbye.” The muscular man, who was 1.95 meters tall, suddenly felt a chill in his buttocks for no apparent reason. Makishima felt it was time for him to leave and to try not to come to this Gothic lakeside house alone in the future.

In the brief moment it took to turn around and open the door, Makishima's gaze inevitably swept over the empty nursery once again.

"Hearn".

"Ok?"

“Although I noticed it when I came this afternoon, did you remove all the flowers in the nursery? I remember there were colorful flowers growing in the garden in the fall. It looks a bit out of place now that it’s all bare.” Makishima tried to ask the question that had been bothering him all afternoon.

"There's no other way. I really didn't want to build a greenhouse in my garden for aesthetic reasons. Although Zurich's winters aren't too cold due to its temperate maritime climate, the temperatures of -4 to 0 degrees Celsius and the open-air environment are enough to kill most of the delicate greenhouse flowers. Before you came, they were almost all wiped out. I spent half the morning cleaning them up." The woman's gaze swept over the soil that showed signs of being turned over.

"You seem to be quite skilled at tending to flowers and plants. Is that one of the basic qualities of the young masters around here?"

"I have no say in how other people's children behave; maybe I owned a flower shop in my past life."

“You could open one now.” Makishima grinned. He really liked the other man’s way of thinking, which made him, who came from the Far East, feel very comfortable in a foreign land. Since the topic had come up, he subconsciously followed suit, “So, what are your plans for the future?”

"You mean the flower nursery? Hmm... This is what I'm thinking. I plan to use the Christmas holidays to go to the flower market and buy some nice violets to plant in the garden as cut flowers for winter and spring," the woman said thoughtfully, resting her chin on her hand.

“Violet? I remember that flower is quite cold-resistant and its native place is along the Mediterranean coast, not far from here. It shouldn’t be too difficult to find a good variety.”

“Yes, and after nearly a century of varietal improvement, Zurich winters are no problem for them.” The woman nodded approvingly. “They are cold-hardy but not shade-tolerant, and they dislike waterlogging. The sunny north shore of Lake Zurich and rooftop gardens are also suitable for their growth—but you know I’m quite lazy in some ways, so once I buy them and plant them, they’ll most likely not be just cut flowers for winter and spring but will be a year-round addition. Zurich’s mild climate is enough to support that. The only problem is…”

"What is it?" Makishima asked back.

“I’m thinking we’ll probably have to hire a maid to look after those flowers. Just imagine, if we were traveling and it rained heavily in Zurich, all the flowers in this garden would be soaked and ruined.”

"That makes a lot of sense, but something just doesn't quite click with me."

"That's your prejudice. I told you not to let rumors and gossip sway your thinking." The believer frowned.

"Don't worry, I still cherish our friendship very much, even though you can be really annoying sometimes." Makishima shrugged.

"Wait until you can beat me in free fighting before you say that, my friend," the believer said with a smile.

"..." Makishima's vision went black after being stepped on in a sore spot.

God knows why this seemingly frail, effeminate young master is so good at fighting. Three months ago, after he was dragged and rubbed across the floor by his opponent with one hand while his skull was held in the arena for the first time, Makishima was so disheartened that he didn't go to the gym for a week.

"Ahem..." The topic was awkward, and Makishima cleared his throat affectedly in an attempt to change the subject and avoid mentioning this embarrassing history. "Do you have any preliminary plans yet, Hearn?"

"Full-time isn't necessary, part-time is fine, but she must be professional. Purely British girls are out of the question, because I occasionally ask her to make breakfast, and if you've ever tried eating traditional British food for a whole month straight... oh my god, let's not even talk about it. In short, I personally hope she's a French girl who knows gardening and is romantic, preferably a German-descended girl from a predominantly German-speaking area. Germans' meticulous approach is very reliable, though they can be a bit less easygoing at times. And as for bust size, it has to be..."

"Stop, stop, stop, stop, just one minute, Hearn. First of all, I was asking about flowers, not people. And the last requirement you mentioned just now felt really off. Are you sure you're hiring a gardener?" Makishima realized with a jolt that the topic had gone off-topic again.

"I am a maid who is an all-around housekeeper and part-time gardener," the believer replied righteously.

"Alright, I'll go back and take a Christmas break in peace. When I come back, I'll see if you can hire a German-French maid who meets your bizarre standards—a versatile housekeeper who can also work as a gardener."

Feeling that continuing to follow the other person's train of thought might lead to neurosis, Makishima decided it was time to leave. He opened the door to the garden room, waved goodbye to Hearn sitting in the nanmu chair, and said, "It's almost 8:30. I'm outta here. I'm too lazy to keep chatting with you. You're so obsessed with women and breasts that you probably don't even know the meaning of violets."

"If you're referring to the bizarre varieties bred using genetic engineering over the past half-century, and the trendy flower meanings created by men and women obsessed with spring, fueled by the media's annual hype, then I truly don't understand." Hern's usual languid voice echoed from afar behind Makishima. "However, if you're talking about the earliest and most natural colors—I mean blue, white, and purple violets—I do know a little about them. In fact, I only intend to buy those varieties that transition from blue to purple."

"I don't believe you had a flower shop in your past life." Makishima paused, his steps faltering. His competitive spirit, typical of someone his age, had made him a lovable debater with Hearn ever since they met. Now, regaining his composure, he crossed his arms and said, slowly and deliberately, "Then let me ask you..."

"But it's really disgusting for two men to talk about the meaning of flowers in the rooftop garden after dark. Makishima, you're not trying to use this opportunity to catch up on your studies and win over your sister, are you? If so, I suggest you send roses or something similar, because the meaning of violets is a bit too hardcore and not suitable for your sister's innocent, big, and innocent personality."

“...Hearn, shut the fuck up. And don’t mention my sister again, and don’t contact her again. If you change the subject again, I’ll take it as you admitting defeat.”

""

“Now, Mr. Hearn, please state the meaning of violets in turn, as well as the flower language of white, purple, and blue violets.” Mr. Makishima Urie, caught up in the competition, glared angrily at Mr. Hearn, who was standing at the edge of the rooftop garden.

The moon was high in the sky, and the surface of Lake Zurich rippled with the night breeze. In the flowing, mercury-like moonlight, the believer Hearn seemed to be thinking for a moment. He tilted his head, his gaze drifting to the lake for a moment, and then across the garden to the face of his friend who was about to return home.

After a moment, he spoke softly, his voice carrying a hint of inexplicable pleasure.

"A cool summer and simple virtues;"

Grasp happiness;

A dreamlike love;

Eternal beauty and undying loyalty.

"Hearn, I'm really going now."

Makishima was escorted to the courtyard gate. Standing two steps away from the gate, the 1.95-year-old boy suddenly turned around.

"Go on, go on, go on, hurry back to sleep and fly home to see your sister tomorrow morning." The believer waved goodbye with a look of disgust.

"I'm really leaving now." Makishima's feet didn't move.

"Speak your mind." The believer leaned against the courtyard gate with her arms crossed, seemingly realizing something.