Endless Debt Chapter 1123 - 125: Entering the Same River

For an individual whose memories are in disarray, the most agonizing experience is when others treat you as an old friend, while to you, they appear as overly enthusiastic strangers.

Truly, it's a painful predicament...

In reality, they aren't complete strangers. Church can recall their names and shared experiences, yet following the memory disruption, a distinct feeling of alienation inevitably surfaces between them.

"You will feel a distance from others, but do not fret; they are all good people."

On a specific page within a diary, his past self penned this very sentence, intending it for his future counterpart.

Church attempted to adhere to this advice, but the chasm between imagination and reality seemed quite vast... perhaps it wasn't solely a matter of this gap; possibly, it was his friends who presented certain peculiarities.

Take their current situation, for instance.

"Valentine told me who should depart~ those cherished emotional memories of his~"

A song played on the radio, echoing in both the diary and his recollections, his closest companion, Palmer Clarks, was simultaneously driving and singing along with the melody.

As the vehicle halted at a traffic signal, he would eagerly turn his head to gaze at Church.

"Valentine! Valentine!"

The fragmented memories painted a vivid picture of Palmer's personality, and the diary elucidated his character further until Church finally encountered Palmer in person, at which point all the disparate pieces of information coalesced into a cohesive whole.

Church felt he was undergoing adaptation, a transition akin to a software upgrade; he was exerting considerable effort to embody the version of himself intimately familiar to his friends.

"Church, you're also quite fortunate!"

Palmer accelerated, launching the car forward just as the light shifted from red to green.

"The physicians indicated that you likely wouldn't regain consciousness, and even if you did, you might be left mentally impaired. Yet, observe yourself now – you are remarkably healthy, are you not?"

"Is that so?" Church responded, a flicker of unease crossing his mind; upon his release from the hospital, the doctors had not conveyed much to him, "However, I do feel that a significant portion of my memories is missing."

"Such as what?" Palmer inquired further, "I am aware you possess a diary; have you compared its entries with your recollections? This could potentially aid you in retrieving what you've forgotten."

The diary held immense significance for Church.

"I attempted that," Church stated, "Many trivial memories were utilized, yielding minimal impact."

As he engaged in conversation with Palmer, a peculiar sensation coursed through him, the feeling of unfamiliarity gradually receding, leaving Church somewhat perplexed yet pleasantly surprised, bestowing upon him a sense of inner peace.

"Is there anything of consequence?"

Bologue, occupying the passenger seat, interjected, making eye contact with Church through the rearview mirror.

Bologue Lazarus, in stark contrast to the impetuous Palmer, remained as stoic and dependable as depicted in both his memories and the diary.

"There is a particular aspect..."

Church paused, then resumed, "You comprehend, individuals do not recall precisely what they have forgotten, nor what they have misplaced... it is an inexplicable phenomenon."

"I comprehend."

Palmer spoke, his thoughts drifting to his past, "During my childhood in Wind Source Highlands, aside from Vasilina, I had a considerable number of close friends. However, for various reasons, as we matured, our connections unfortunately dissolved.

The last occasion I visited Wind Source Highlands, I encountered a few of them; honestly, the sensation was rather peculiar."

Palmer's tone carried an unexpected lightness, "I vividly recall the moments spent with them, periods brimming with joy, where even the very air seemed infused with ambrosia. Under normal circumstances, we ought to have remained lifelong companions, inseparable.

But perhaps the threads of human connection are inherently delicate; the passage of time and distance severed all ties. Upon meeting them again, while I retained memories of those wonderful times and even yearned for them, I felt not the slightest flicker of recognition, as if they were mere strangers."

"What you yearn for is the past itself, not the individuals," Bologue stated.

"No... it's not precisely like that, Bologue. I simply perceive that human emotional bonds are exceedingly fragile; it is the relentless march of time and the vastness of space that have eroded my feelings. Consequently, upon encountering them, my heart remained unmoved."

Palmer continued, "I had assumed Church would be in a similar state, but it appears his condition is not as severe as mine."

"Well, you are indeed a callous fellow," Bologue remarked, "I detect not a trace of sorrow in your words."

"Naturally, there is no sadness. As I've already articulated, the emotions have been worn down, akin to facing strangers. Therefore, how could I possibly experience sadness? Perhaps a modicum, stemming from a pessimistic outlook on the erosion of feelings, but such is the nature of things, and thus, it matters not."

"Perhaps it is simply because I was a child then, and a child's mind operates in such a fashion," Palmer added, "Furthermore, what is there to be sorrowful about? I have a fiancée, you see, practically a half-life victor."

Palmer concluded with a roguish wink directed at the pair, an air of self-assuredness radiating from him.