Endless Debt Chapter 1149 - 12: Comrades-in-Arms

"I should have foreseen it earlier."

Palmer rubbed his neck, a peculiar blue mark faintly visible on his skin.

"I don't have many friends, and neither does Vasilina. We've known each other since childhood, and not much has changed as we've grown up."

"So what?"

"So what?" Palmer exclaimed, astonished, "You still say 'so what'? Haven't you noticed the issue here?"

"You know I'm not adept at these sorts of predicaments; I can barely untangle my own problems."

"Oh heavens, can someone possibly assist me?"

Palmer nearly succumbed to despair, but after a brief bout of lamentation, he regained his composure and spoke with remarkable clarity.

"I have my own career, my own social connections... I possess many things, but it's a different story for Vasilina."

Upon mentioning her, Palmer's demeanor shifted to one of profound melancholy. He felt a pang of sorrow for Vasilina and a deep regret for not recognizing these circumstances sooner.

"Vasilina was raised among the Clarks; she has no parents, and her sole companion is myself. In that desolate, wind-swept place, there is absolutely nothing – no vibrant city, no video rental stores, no cinemas, not even a single fast-food joint."

Palmer's voice suddenly escalated, "She hasn't even had the pleasure of tasting delicious shrimp crisp bread!"

Though it sounded rather peculiar, coming from Palmer, it carried a surprising weight of reason.

"Therefore, Vasilina is truly isolated. In her entire existence, she only has me, but I ventured out to work."

"What is your intention?"

"She wishes to join the Order Bureau; that way, she can see me daily."

"A classic romantic entanglement. So, what is troubling you then?"

Palmer fell silent for a moment, then let out a helpless sigh. "I am aware of her affection for me, but clearly, with the passage of time and my own neglect, her feelings have become... have become somewhat..."

"Become somewhat what?"

"Somewhat… warped."

Palmer's face turned ashen. He abruptly spun around, gripping Bologue's shoulders with palpable tension, his eyes glistening as if on the verge of tears.

"You have no idea; she utters peculiar things when she speaks."

Peculiar things?

Bologue mentally revisited Vasilina – the impression was of a short-haired, formidable woman, clad in understated attire, much like a refined gentleman, her every movement exuding meticulous etiquette. Compared to Palmer, she was the epitome of traditional aristocracy.

It was difficult to picture such an individual uttering statements that had evidently unsettled Palmer.

"Could you recount what she said?" Bologue inquired.

"She... she..." Palmer's voice trembled, "She expressed that she doesn't want me to leave; she wants to bind me, to keep me forever by her side."

"What's so unusual about that? It sounds like typical romantic discourse," Bologue offered matter-of-factly.

Palmer's composure shattered. "I thought so too! But when I awoke, I was genuinely bound!"

Awakening from a dream, Palmer discovered his hands were shackled, firmly attached to the bed. Beside him, Vasilina slept peacefully.

This wasn't the first time Palmer had found himself restrained within a dream.

Palmer began to babble incoherently, "Vasilina never merely speaks; she takes real action!"

"Well, that's admirable; I appreciate her proactive nature," Bologue commented, appreciating Vasilina's decisiveness.

"Admirable, my foot!"

Palmer was nearing madness. As he awoke, Vasilina also stirred. Faced with Palmer's frantic cries, a tender embrace from Vasilina silenced his outbursts.

Within that embrace, Palmer could scarcely draw a breath.

After an entire morning of earnest persuasion, Vasilina finally relented, freeing Palmer. However, she insisted on fastening a chain to his wrist, ensuring that wherever Palmer went, Vasilina would be tethered, holding the other end.

Palmer protested, "Don't you find holding this chain rather peculiar?"

Vasilina silently unclasped the chain from Palmer's wrist, offering him a fleeting moment of relief. Then, she looped the chain around her own wrist, extending the loose end towards Palmer.

Palmer had a stark realization: during his own absence, loneliness and longing had acted as potent catalysts, twisting Vasilina's devotion into something unrecognisable. He couldn't fathom the potential consequences if he were to remain away for an extended period.

Perhaps one day, he might awaken in a secluded, dark basement.

Thus, Palmer made his way back to Oubos in Oath City that very same night.

"You departed without even a farewell?" Bologue noted the oversight.

Palmer's expression stiffened.

"She will arrive sooner or later, won't she?" Bologue continued, "She can no longer tolerate enduring this separation."

Without allowing Palmer to reply, Bologue posed the crucial question, "Then, tell me, Palmer, do you cherish Vasilina?"

"Absolutely!" Palmer responded without hesitation.

"Then what exactly are you resisting?"

Palmer visibly deflated, murmuring to himself, "Indeed, what is it that I fear?"

After a prolonged period of contemplation, he ventured, "Perhaps it is the prospect of change."

"Change?"

"I have grown accustomed to my current way of life," Palmer glanced towards Bologue, then surveyed the living room adorned with abundant records and tapes. "Each day is filled with a cycle of battles, drinks, and film viewings; it's a rather fulfilling existence."

Bologue remarked, "But now, another individual has entered your life. She is not content with merely being a friend; she intends to become deeply interwoven, inseparable, much like a persistent shadow."

A rudimentary concept formed in Palmer's mind: "The unknown is always unsettling for people."

Bologue elaborated, "Consider yourself a wild dog on the Wind Source Highlands. Now, someone approaches with a leash, intending to bind you." "You cannot picture a life under restraint, nor can you be certain if you will retain your current freedom to roam."

"Domestication," Palmer mused, "To be tamed by another, to find a home, no longer a wandering stray."

"This isn't about passive acceptance; it's your own active yearning to be domesticated by her, to merge into one being, and for her to become a part of you."

Bologue spoke as he retrieved a notebook, his pen sketching and scribbling within its pages.

"Will you truly fight against it? No, you won't. You're merely unaccustomed. Sooner or later, you'll grasp Vasilina's feelings. You'll willingly offer her the leash, inviting her taming, much like she offered it to you."

Listening to Bologue, Palmer found himself lost in thought. A delayed realization dawned, "Damn it, Bologue, what exactly happened on this business trip? Did you receive Serey's true enlightenment?"

In Palmer's perception, the usually stoic expert had inexplicably morphed into a romantic philosopher—a bewildering transformation.

"No, it's merely that I've been exploring these very concepts recently," Bologue replied, continuing his writing.

Palmer, baffled, inquired, "Why delve into such matters?"

"I find myself entangled in... a predicament mirroring yours. Perhaps this is the nature of life: resolving one issue only to uncover another, an unending cycle."

Bologue set down his writing materials and spoke with gravity, "I resolved my issues concerning emotions, but what followed was a bewilderment regarding intimacy and an apprehension towards change.

Much like you, I'm accustomed to my established life, maintaining distinct boundaries. Yet, now that someone else has entered my personal space, how does one navigate interaction, cultivate affection, and even engage in mutual domestication?"

Palmer's expression shifted to one of sheer bewilderment. He rubbed his forehead, saying, "Wait a moment, Bologue, you're being far too analytical. Could you simplify your explanation?"

"Ah."

Bologue pondered for a moment, then rephrased his question with utmost directness.

"Palmer, what actions should one take after entering a romantic relationship with someone?"

"What should I do? Naturally, it involves shared meals, watching movies, daily check-ins..."

As Palmer spoke, his voice gradually faded. Then, he let out a sharp exclamation.

"Huh? What are you implying? Did I mishear you!" Palmer's immediate concerns vanished completely.

"You heard correctly," Bologue affirmed. "In this regard, I believe you and I are quite similar. We've both managed to overcome significant internal struggles, only to find ourselves disoriented by the emergence of a new reality and more profound connections. Perhaps we can support each other."

As Bologue spoke, he extended his hand to Palmer, and the two clasped hands, like comrades united in a shared mission.

Palmer snapped back to reality, exclaiming, "No... hang on, my friend, where did this intimate relationship come from? With Sword Axe? Are you into some peculiar fetish?"

Bologue remained composed. "Aimou, Aimou Yazhede. Have I not mentioned her to you before?"

"Absolutely not. Not even a hint."

Palmer's mind went completely blank. He felt as if a notorious serial killer had just confessed to falling in love, and the next logical step would be planning for a down payment, paying off a mortgage, and embracing a sweet, albeit terrifying, life of continued violence. It sounded strangely... appealing.

"Blast it! When did all this transpire!" Palmer exclaimed.

"Shortly after the Decline Plague subsided," Bologue replied, seemingly confused by Palmer's reaction. "I assumed everyone was aware."

"Huh?"

Palmer cast his mind back to Bologue's interactions with Aimou in recent months. A bewildering sense of amusement, coupled with a profound hopelessness regarding Bologue's personal romantic life, washed over him.

"You appear to be more resistant to domestication than I am," Palmer retorted, using Bologue's own words.

Bologue responded without hesitation, "That's quite alright. At least in the immediate future, your personal challenges are more significant than mine."