Endless Debt Chapter 1381: Prologue: Immature People_3

The woman exclaimed excitedly, "You truly are the Undead!"

She directly snatched the sword from the Knight’s hand, struggled to lift it, and threatened, "Serey, tell me the secret of immortality!"

What responded to her was a rapid burst of crimson light, like a storm descending upon the room, knocking the woman back to the bed with invisible force.

Her vision was chaotic, she couldn’t see anything, and the continuous clanging of metal hitting metal reached her ears, followed by the shrill cries of the Knights, the pungent smell of blood filling the air, as if ton upon ton of blood was flowing.

The chaos lasted less than a minute; when the woman managed to crawl from the collapsed bed, the room was in disarray, scattered with severed limbs and filthy blood, with armor twisted and compressing the Knights’ bodies into masses of flesh.

Serey stood among the corpses, blood smeared on his lips, holding a body with its neck bitten off.

Only then did the woman come to her senses, realizing what kind of monster she had been living with all these years, also realizing the insane and stubborn things she had done for immortality.

She murmured, "I’m sorry..."

Serey gave the woman a glance, picked up an umbrella from the corner, stepped over the corpses, and walked towards the door.

The woman knew that once Serey left this time, he would never return. She shouted at his back.

"Serey!"

Serey paused for a moment, turned his head, "I can’t give you the immortality you want, stop making it difficult for me."

The woman seemed to relinquish her obsession with the Undead, "No... Serey, I just want to ask, did you ever really love me?"

"Of course," Serey affirmed, "I did love you."

Upon hearing this, the woman smiled genuinely, her laughter gradually spiraling out of control until it became a hysterical roar.

"No, you monster, you never understood what love is."

In a moment, the woman figured out many things, "I wasn’t the first, and surely won’t be the last, right!"

At this time, the woman did not feel sad about her impending death, but rather sorrowful for the years spent with Serey.

"You never loved me; I was just a little pet you used to kill time..."

She clawed at her cheeks, leaving them bloody.

"You never loved me..."

Facing this scene, Serey’s heart remained unmoved, as it always had been; he was already so familiar with this scene, taking it as routine. Serey could even guess what the woman would say next.

The woman pleaded, "Will you remember me?"

Serey said, "I guessed it."

The woman was stunned for a moment, then Serey turned and left, completely disappearing from her life, his steps never faltering no matter how she howled to keep him.

After leaving the old castle, Serey realized it was the first time he had left this place in so many years. He found the outside world had changed so much; people were laying railroads over the fields, trains rumbling past.

Serey liked these new things; they were much faster than carriages. Over the next few years, he traveled to many places by train, experiencing several "loves," some lasting only a few days and nights, others for a few months.

By chance, Serey met a very interesting woman, and they had a congenial chat.

"Actually, I am the Undead."

One night, Serey suddenly said to this woman.

"Ha? Are you joking?"

"I’m telling the truth."

Serey said, picking up a dinner knife and slicing open his neck, blood gushing out.

The woman was completely shocked, and before her terrified wails could escape, Serey’s wound was already healed. He held the woman’s hand, letting her feel the smooth skin, confirming the self-healing of the wound.

"Is this magic?" Tears welled up in the woman’s eyes, her emotions entirely disrupted by Serey.

"Not magic, true immortality."

Serey again demonstrated, cutting a finger and healing in her presence.

Though the process was unbelievable, the woman spent the entire night accepting Serey as the Undead.

"According to novels, shouldn’t you Undead hide your identity?" The woman asked in confusion as she made tiny cuts on Serey’s body, observing their healing.

"Reasonably, to avoid trouble, I would do so," Serey looked into her eyes, "but I find you intriguing, and I want to see your reaction."

"Do you think I would react by seeking immortality from you, to become an Undead like you?"

"Something like that."

"Sounds like others have done so before me, what was the outcome?"

"Very sad."

"I thought so..."

"So do you want to become the Undead?" Serey tested the woman.

"Hmm..." She scrutinized Serey carefully, shook her head, "No, I don’t."

An unexpected answer.

"Look at yourself, Serey."

"What about me?"

"You look glamorous on the outside, but inside, you’re nothing but rotten mud," the woman fiddled with her dress, making it ripple like a butterfly, "I don’t want to become like you."

"So you reject immortality?"

"Uh-huh."

Serey closely examined the woman in front of him, the likes of whom he had rarely encountered in so many years, and because of this, Serey unusually felt a desire to delve deeper with her.

So another year passed, Serey wore a sharp suit, while the woman wore a pure white wedding dress, and hand in hand, they entered the halls of marriage.