Endless Debt Chapter 640 - 151 Innate Talent

The train rumbled forward, never stopping. At a junction between two carriages, Ewen looked out into the vast darkness of the night, feeling a bit restless and uneasy.

He lit a cigarette and put it back in his mouth, inhaling forcefully. Having previous experience, this time Ewen seemed much more proficient. As he exhaled thick smoke, he appeared like a weathered old smoker... but this was actually the first pack of cigarettes he had ever bought in his life.

Ewen furrowed his brows, looking at the half-burnt cigarette in his hand. He found that he still didn’t like it, tossed it out casually, and dug into his pocket to throw away the remaining half pack.

"I never smoked or drank when I was young," Ewen leaned against the swaying wall. "I think life is fragile, and undoubtedly these things will hasten our demise."

"So why start trying these things now?" the girl standing across from Ewen asked curiously.

"When you get older, it’s like this, you want to start trying things you never did when you were young. After all, my most youthful and energetic years have passed, I’m not very concerned about it now."

When Ewen mentioned these things, it seemed as if time had defeated him, but it was only a temporary defeat, the decayed sense of old age fleeting across his face.

He flipped to the last few pages of his notebook, filled densely with a list, most of which Ewen had crossed off with black lines.

"Before boarding this train, I briefly became a rock band lead singer, but the bar’s owner didn’t particularly like me."

Ewen sighed; he quite enjoyed this attempt, but unfortunately, reality did not allow it.

"Of course, besides wanting to try new things, I am also curious, curious about what else I can still do."

"Why be curious... about what you can do?"

The girl showed a puzzled look. Ewen sighed. From the outside, the girl seemed just of age, and the vast world had only shown her a corner, so it was normal for her not to understand his words.

"Do you believe in the existence of talent?

For instance, some people are born musicians with perfect pitch, some are born painters with a perfect sense of color, and others are natural athletes who can achieve speeds that others have to struggle to catch up with easily."

Ewen listed out many examples in one breath.

After thinking for a while, the girl nodded emphatically, "And then?"

"But the problem is, no one knows what they were born to do.

A musician with perfect pitch might never have the chance to be involved with instruments, instead doing something... else entirely.

The same goes for painters and athletes; they might think they are just slightly stronger and then excitedly go off to carry bricks at a construction site."

Ewen questioned the girl, "What do you think of such stories?"

The girl said, "Somewhat sad."

"And there’s something even more heartbreaking," Ewen continued, "when a musician first touches the keys in the twilight of life, or a painter picks up a brush when they are at death’s door."

Ewen spoke of that sorrowful aspect.

"Imagine their feelings at that moment, shock, obsession, and then sorrow. They must think that the time to reunite with their talent came too late. If it had been a few years earlier, they might have accomplished something. But now, it only adds regret for them as they approach old age."

It’s like a desert traveler being scorched by the sun, evaporating all the moisture from his body, doubled over like a desiccated corpse, resigning to despair and then seeing a clear lake not far away.

Dying in despair and sadness.

The girl shook her head, "That sounds too pessimistic..."

"That’s why we have to try new things while we still have the strength; what if we find the talent hidden in our blood?"

As Ewen spoke, he added a few more events to his notebook; they were just thoughts he had come up with.

The girl curiously asked, "Have you discovered any new talents in yourself after trying so many things?"

"Yes... but it’s not important," Ewen closed the notebook, his eyes turning stern, "What’s important is you, what’s going on with you?"

Ewen and the girl had avoided the ticket inspector, but the problem between them remained unresolved. Ewen didn’t know who the girl was, nor did he know her name. She was a walking mystery.

The girl said, "Ran away from home, you guessed right."

"But your story is false."

"Does it matter whether the story is true or false? In any case, it led to me running away from home."

Ewen fell silent for a moment, then said earnestly and seriously, "It matters."

"Truth is very important."

Ewen repeated, his words brief and powerful, like the tolling of a bell.

When the girl first met Ewen, she thought he was a somewhat strange, kind uncle. But now, it seemed that the real Ewen was not like the man she had thought.

At that moment, it was as if the girl was meeting Ewen anew, his intense presence making it difficult for the girl to breathe.

"The reason I am so patient with you is that my upbringing and principles are influencing myself, do you understand?"

Ewen was not of noble birth, but he liked to constrain himself with noble qualities; even in the most dangerous and challenging situations, Ewen still held to his beliefs.

Self-constraint above all, even if it means being killed, one would not be defeated.

This was one of Ewen’s dreams, to live as a noble person.

The girl crossed her arms over her chest, lowering her head to avoid Ewen’s gaze. She still didn’t want to speak, like a safe, keeping all her secrets locked inside.

Ewen shook his head, murmuring low, "I could just walk away."

He said it and acted upon it.

Ewen was tired of entangling with the girl, leaving her there to fend for herself. The moment the girl decided to run away from home, she should have been prepared. Even if she fell along the journey, it was the fate she chose herself.

The help Ewen could offer was limited, not to mention that the girl didn’t seem to need his help at all.

The girl watched Ewen’s back, her expression becoming forlorn. She didn’t try to stop him, still silent, her gaze looking out into the night, anticipating the train’s final destination.

A tall shadow suddenly appeared in front of the girl. She looked up, Ewen was back, a smile spread across her face.

Indeed, Ewen’s principles wouldn’t let him ignore a runaway girl.

The girl thought it was this way, her smile frozen on her face.

Ewen stood against the light, his expression made the girl fearful, and she noticed that absolute silence covered the entire train, leaving only the faint sound of the wind and the mechanical rumble. The chatter of passengers and even the sound of snores had long since vanished.

"Quiet."

The girl was about to say something when Ewen suddenly covered her mouth, shushing her.

The girl moved her eyes up and down to indicate she understood and Ewen slowly released his hand, tensely opening the windows on both sides, letting the cold wind rush into the junction between carriages.

"What’s wrong?"

The girl lowered her voice to a whisper, like a mosquito.

Ewen had no intention of explaining, he took off his heavy coat and put it on the girl. It was then that the girl realized the coat’s weight, heavy as if lined with steel plates.

The pockets jingled as if Ewen had stuffed a toolbox inside. The girl wobbled like a penguin.

"Stay here, breathe the air from outside, don’t leave."

Ewen warned the girl softly, his gaze no longer kind but fierce, like an angry young man. Yet, paired with his graying hair, he resembled an aged roaring lion.

The girl obediently nodded; she knew when to be playful and when to be serious.

Ewen was not joking with her.

The girl hid in the corner, Ewen’s shadow enveloping her, occupying her entire field of view.

Ewen revealed a black vest, his armor-like muscles stretching the fabric, his knotted arms exposed like lethal weapons.

The sharp gleam stung the girl’s eyes. She squinted hard, barely making out the source of that gleam.

It was a delicate short sword, black straps coiled around the sword scabbard, securing it firmly under Ewen’s left wrist. This deadly weapon was ever ready to answer Ewen’s call.

Ewen’s right hand rested on the sword hilt, taking a deep breath of fresh air, holding it, and then slid the door open.

Drawing out the dazzling blade, Ewen stepped into the smoke-filled carriage. Meanwhile, at the other end of the carriage, the Demon, starving with hunger, strode forth.