Endless Debt Chapter 1379: Prologue: Childish People

The dim room was filled with the lingering scent of wine, the heavy quilt covering the figure on the bed, outlining a slender, slim silhouette. Amidst drowsy groans, Serey pushed away the arm draped over his chest and sat up from the bed.

The golden hair hung low, covering his eyes. Serey forcefully brushed them up, revealing a slightly pale forehead. Ruby’s eyes swept over the woman lying beside him, his expression filled with bewilderment.

"Serey..."

The woman called out Serey’s name, reaching out to try to embrace his neck, seeing him as her deep lover.

Serey lowered his head, responding to the woman’s call, holding her hand and combing through her long hair.

"Marry me, Serey, we’ll always be together."

The woman softly imagined the future, "We will have happy times together, maybe even a few children..."

Serey smiled at the woman, yet his smile was unexpectedly indifferent, without uttering a word.

"Serey..."

The woman continued to call out, which made Serey a bit annoyed.

Serey pushed away the soft body beside him, silently got out of bed, and found his clothes on the cluttered floor, soaking wet from the wine, sticking uncomfortably to his skin.

"Serey, what’s the matter?"

The woman awoke to clarity, holding the quilt, not understanding why Serey suddenly became so cold.

"I’m leaving."

While Serey spoke, he was sorting his clothes, his tone devoid of any emotion, "Perhaps I will never return."

The woman froze, like waking from a dream, doubting what she heard, "What did you say?"

"I said... I should leave, just like that."

Serey finished dressing, his black, upright coat complementing his elegant demeanor, the crimson pupils reflecting the woman’s near-tearful expression. He was incredibly cold, with no internal turbulence.

"Why?"

The woman didn’t understand; she was clueless.

"No reason."

In the past, Serey would carefully explain, which would then be met with punches and kicks from the women. Gradually, he grew tired of doing this; indifference became the best answer.

He turned his head, picked up the black umbrella by the door, and strode away.

The woman slowly reacted, clutching the quilt, and ran toward the door. She reached the balcony, only to see Serey already walking far away, holding a black umbrella.

She didn’t ponder why Serey walked so fast, nor did she understand why he used an umbrella in the morning. She merely shouted.

"Serey, you bastard!"

The curses faded behind Serey; it all seemed unrelated to him. Serey hummed a distant tune, walking alone with the umbrella along the path in the woods.

For a member of the Night Race, walking during the day was a highly dangerous task, even if Serey was a Night Race Lord. However, Serey loved sheltering under an umbrella in daylight, giving him a thrill of lingering between life and death, as if walking alongside Death God.

Serey raised his head, looking at the edge of the black umbrella, suddenly halted, and slowly stretched out his hand, crossing past the shadow’s boundary.

Sunlight shot straight onto Serey’s palm, instantly causing several scorched black spots to appear on his pale palm, wisps of white smoke rising.

Piercing pain spread across, yet Serey didn’t feel fear, rather carried an inexplicable excitement, watching as his skin burned through, his flesh coagulated into a mass, fingers involuntarily curling, emitting a burnt stench.

Serey’s gaze turned morbid, a dark impulse rising in his heart, wanting to discard the black umbrella, completely exposing himself under the sunlight’s gaze.

Such is an utterly mad notion; deadly sunlight would first scorch Serey’s skin, burn through his physique, evaporating all his blood. But lucky for him, with Serey’s lineage, even the noon’s fierce sun requires over ten minutes to turn him into pitch-black charcoal.

Serey had ample time, like a coward, to flee into the shadows.

"Be brave, Serey."

Serey murmured to himself, his palm already entirely burnt black. He continued reaching out while sunlight leisurely crawled up his arm, flames sprang forth before his eyes.

A lunatic, bizarre smile blossomed on Serey’s face, the dark impulse reaching its limit, as if he might throw away the black umbrella in a flash, basking in sunlight once more after a century.

At this pinnacle, boundless fear of death erupted from Serey’s heart, easily drowning that dark impulse.

Serey’s breath paused momentarily, swiftly pulling back the arm extended past the shadow, fleeing like a coward, tightly gripping the black umbrella, hiding in the shadows under the tree.

His heart pounded fiercely, only after a long time did Serey ease from the terror of death, sitting bewildered in the shadows, as time slipped by.

The sound of hooves gradually approached, a group of knights clad in armor guarding a luxurious carriage swiftly passing through the forest path.

The standard-bearing knights noticed Serey beneath the shadows, slowing down, scrutinizing this odd presence appearing in the wilderness.

Serey appeared dignified, carrying a noble aura, with a cold and distant demeanor, clearly within reach yet seemingly a world away.

By the norm, such people should only appear in manor castles, not in this perilous wilderness.

The leader knight kind-heartedly spoke, "Sir, are you okay?"

Serey glanced at the knight, nodding gently, aside from his clothes being slightly scorched, the arm that should have turned into charcoal had already regrown flesh.