Endless Debt Chapter 683 - 194: The Author’s Essence

"Damn it!"

A blurred voice echoed by the ear, a woman’s hazy face appeared before his eyes. She seemed very angry, cursing furiously, smashing furniture, breaking everything into pieces and setting it all ablaze.

"It would’ve been better if you hadn’t been born."

This sentence seemed to have been hidden in her heart for a long time, and now she finally spoke it out, as if her soul was being liberated. She walked to the window, laughing uncontrollably, but then she started crying uncontrollably as well.

The boy stood obediently in place, expressionless, as if none of this had anything to do with him.

The scene tinged with a bit of dark red, and the ensuing chill engulfed his consciousness. The lonely black night descended, covering him like a blanket.

Cold, very cold.

All the blood and muscles seemed to have frozen, even the bones and joints were stiff, sharp ice shards filled every part of his torso and organs.

The boy felt like he was going to die, dying in this desolate station. Recalling all his journeys, as a homeless person, he felt that such an end was not bad.

He was very tired, and as a place to rest, an eternal sleep here wouldn’t be a bad way to end it all.

Born without blessing, and then die quietly.

As his eyelids heavily fell, when all the light was about to go out, the boy heard the whistle of a train from the end of the night. The roaring train shattered the shackles of fate and also shattered the impending death.

The train stopped beside the abandoned platform, all the doors opened, and a warm light danced invitingly behind them, with a chorus of men and women singing drifting into his ears, sweet laughter intertwined with elegant strings.

The boy could smell the aroma of food, the stickiness of fine wine, a profusion of beautiful faces swarming around, all things he had never dared to desire.

How beautiful...

Unfortunately, the boy had no strength left, he could only lower his head heavily, and then he heard a series of light footsteps.

Someone came, she stepped off the train and walked to his side.

Reaching out her hand towards him...

"Ewen!"

The shout jolted Ewen awake, a suffocating sensation wrapped around his chest. He opened his mouth and breathed forcefully, the thick smoke rolled into his lungs, causing him to cough painfully.

"Ha... ha..."

Ewen painfully arched his body, tears welling up from the smoke, fresh blood streamed down his cheeks, and his sluggish consciousness awoke from the nightmare, a familiar face came into view.

"Cin... Cinderella?"

Breathing heavily, Ewen suspected he might have hit his head, because for a moment, he couldn’t recognize the girl before him.

"Get up!"

Cinderella grabbed Ewen’s arm, struggling to drag him. Of course, Cinderella couldn’t move Ewen, but after regaining a bit of strength, Ewen managed to stand up on his own, climbing out of the distorted and uneven elevator.

Just as he escaped from the elevator, it lost its support with a metallic groan, continuing to plunge into the depths. A few seconds later, a thundering crash resonated from the elevator shaft, with occasional glimpses of flickering flames.

Ewen blinked, blurry memories gradually cleared up, and he remembered what had just happened.

The elevator plunged down uncontrollably. In order to survive, Ewen wedged a table knife into the gap of the elevator doors. The knife was instantly crushed, the steel debris jammed the gap, slightly slowing the rapidly descending elevator.

The shock and impact nearly took his life, but Ewen unleashed an astonishing burst of strength, forcibly pulling open the elevator doors, thus finding a way to survive.

"Ah..."

Ewen let out a groan of pain; his entire left hand was engulfed in excruciating pain. To jam the table knife in place, he felt that his left hand was broken.

Struggling, he took the Short Sword with his right hand and cut his own clothes, wrapping the broken cloth around his left hand to immobilize it.

Cinderella stood anxiously beside him, noticing Ewen’s dire state, but she was powerless to help him.

"I’m okay," Ewen reassured the girl, "we need to find a way to escape."

The ground tilted slightly, supporting himself against the wall, Ewen stood up, only then realizing his injuries were more severe than he had thought. A knife-like pain came from all over his body, and his legs wouldn’t quite obey him.

Ewen felt his head was heavy, his neck seemed unable to sustain his head, and the twisted pain and fatigue tortured his mind.

"Oh... who is she?"

A woman’s gloomy and restrained singing rose, lingering by Ewen’s ears.

"A blurry memory... an indelible pair of eyes."

Ewen felt something creeping and agitating in his brain, like bloody worms, gnawing at his memories.

"Did you hear that?"

Sweating profusely, Ewen spoke breathlessly to Cinderella.

"Hear what?"

Cinderella shook her head, hearing nothing except the explosive rumbling and the fan’s rotation.

Waves of pain surged through Ewen’s nerves, the woman’s singing became louder and clearer, as if she was right beside him, singing loudly to him.

"Who is she?"

The Fire Opal-like eyes appeared before Ewen’s vision.

Such a bright and dazzling color, captivating and radiant, Ewen reached out obsessively, touching that cold face.

Suddenly, all the brilliance dissipated, and the colors seemed to extinguish as if Cinderella’s wine-red eyes overlapped and replaced them, reflecting into his eyes.

Cinderella held Ewen’s hand, concerned, "Are you okay, Ewen?"

Ewen stared at her blankly; the voices had vanished, and the confusion in his mind was completely gone.

"It’s okay, it’s okay..."

Ewen seemed to be speaking to Cinderella, yet also comforting himself, "We need to get out of here."

The hallucination disappeared, and the pain returned again. Ewen clutched the Short Sword, gritting his teeth, determined to find a way to get Cinderella out of there, knowing that every minute spent there was drawing Death God closer.

Ewen’s steps were somewhat faltering. In the impact of the elevator’s fall, a shattered piece of metal had pierced into his thigh, blood seeping everywhere.

Cinderella supported Ewen, their steps unevenly matched, slowly progressing through the dim hallway.

"Actually, I don’t have a sister."

In the long silence, Cinderella suddenly spoke, and she laughed in the decayed, gloomy scene, her smile soothing.

"Oh."

Seeing Ewen’s calm reaction, Cinderella exclaimed, "Just ’oh’?"

She thought Ewen would have a more excited reaction; yelling would be better than this dead silence.

Ewen looked ahead; the explosion had affected the power system, plunging the hallway into complete darkness. He needed to carefully discern the direction.

"I guessed you weren’t telling me the truth," Ewen had long realized, "to be precise, there’s never any truth in your mouth."

Cinderella was stunned; she hadn’t expected Ewen to say that, "Then why do you..."

"I’m just very curious about what you ultimately want to do."

Ewen wiped the blood from his face; it was somewhat hindering his vision. "Once a person becomes curious about another, they become very patient and extremely tolerant, like an old Hunter, quietly waiting for the prey to appear."

His gaze fell on Cinderella. Clearly, he was a writer, spending years with words, yet Ewen suddenly didn’t know how to describe this girl, as if all his embellishments and adjectives couldn’t perfectly convey everything about her.

"So, what’s your wish, Cinderella?"

Ewen asked it as if driven by a mysterious force, not questioning her destination, nor what she ultimately wanted to do, but rather that heartfelt "wish."

Cinderella fell silent, and Ewen didn’t pressure her. He just needed someone to talk to to stay awake; it didn’t matter what they talked about.

The Short Sword stabbed into the door gap, and Ewen struck the sword handle hard, prying open the room door. It was presumably someone’s bedroom. Ewen rummaged through and found some medical supplies in a cabinet.

"Cinderella, weren’t you very chatty before?"

The surroundings were too quiet, Ewen said as he treated his wound, "Say something... even if it’s just to deceive me."

The Short Sword tore open his pants, and Ewen gritted his teeth as he explored the shard embedded in his flesh.

Cinderella squatted to the side; Ewen seemed to see through her disguise, disrupting her rhythm. She looked a bit confused, somewhat at a loss.

"Actually, we’re the same," Ewen said again, "We’re both very good at deception."

Talking about these things, Ewen laughed to himself, "You know? The better one is at deception, the more suited they are to writing."

Cinderella didn’t understand, "Why?"

"A liar, to deceive others and make them believe, would craft a real, seamless story... or lie, with great care."

Ewen took a deep breath, extracting the shard. The severe pain rendered him speechless momentarily. After a good while, he slowly continued speaking.

"What’s the difference between an author and a liar? No, an author is better.

An author’s lies are the most twisted. Readers, knowing it’s false, still find themselves irresistibly immersed in that virtual world under the author’s exquisite deception and emotional depiction, even feeling that somewhere in this world, the imagined existence in the story truly exists...

Like a dark, mysterious dream destined to shatter like bubbles."

Beautiful yet cruel.

"See, isn’t this a perfect deception? You know it’s a lie, yet you still dive in headfirst."

Ewen bandaged the wound, grateful for his early survival experience, making such things not difficult for Ewen.

"The essence of being an author is to be a fraudster, deceiving others with fictitious fantasies."

Ewen glanced up at Cinderella, "You’re great at deception, having the talent to be an author."

"If we can leave alive, I can teach you how to write."

Cinderella didn’t respond; she slowly leaned over and sat down. This lively, always imposing girl seemed genuinely tired at this moment.

She glanced at the disheveled Ewen, recalling the absurdity of this journey and Ewen’s bizarre reasoning...

"I want to see a whale."

A mosquito-like voice echoed in the silence. Ewen thought he had heard wrong.

"I’ve never seen a whale."

Cinderella’s voice grew louder as she told Ewen,

"So I want to see a whale with my own eyes."