Endless Debt Chapter 732 - 212: The Author is Dead_3

"Alas... Forget it, is this the gap between fantasy and reality?"

Palmer comforted himself, trying to come to terms with it all.

"Don’t overthink it, friend. You don’t need to ask me these things," Ewen could understand Palmer’s feelings at the moment; he had just used the same tactic on Cinderella. "Also, don’t take my words too seriously. Sometimes my answers can’t represent everything."

"But you’re the author! Those stories, characters—they’re things you wrote!" Palmer lamented, Ewen’s answer undoubtedly sentenced all of his fantasies to death.

"No, you can’t think like that," Ewen patted Palmer’s shoulder, "I’ve always thought that once an author writes a work, it no longer belongs to the author themselves."

Palmer asked, "Do you mean the ownership of the work’s copyright?"

Ewen was momentarily stunned, "Huh?"

Palmer didn’t really understand these things either, "Like, things like manuscript fees, profits, and so on?"

"No, no, I mean the right to interpret the work," Ewen curiously took note of Palmer’s way of thinking, he thought this was quite peculiar, "Compared to the author, I feel more like a narrator. The story doesn’t belong to me; I just happened to fantasize about it. When I narrate my fantasy to you, the fantasy becomes independent of me.

At that moment, the author dies."

"My thoughts don’t matter, my interpretations don’t either, just like a light has countless ways to be described, and my words are just one of them."

Ewen smiled, "I’ve always felt that creation itself is a process of sharing; so, readers are very important, like a stunning performance—even if it’s amazing, without an audience, it becomes lonely and dull."

He continued softly, "Of course, the readers’ paid support is immensely valuable."

Palmer roughly understood Ewen’s words and continued, "So, I can just see all those interpretations you gave as nonsense?"

"If that makes you feel better, I think that’s okay."

Palmer was silent for a while, clutching his chest once more as he experienced heartache again. What Ewen said was easy, but those darn words had already nailed themselves into Palmer’s mind.

He wanted to forget the previous conversation to preserve the pure, beautiful impression of the work, but clearly, Palmer couldn’t do it anymore.

An odd silence settled between the two, with Cinderella caught in the middle, feeling uneasy.

Palmer said meaningfully, "On that note, it really is surprising, Ewen."

Over the past few days, Palmer had learned about Ewen’s story from Nolen. This renowned author had secretly been chasing knowledge of the Extraordinary World for decades.

Palmer asked, "Just for creative inspiration?"

Ewen knew what he was asking, "What else?"

Palmer cast his gaze on Cinderella, according to Ewen, she was Ewen’s niece, but the name of this niece sounded odd.

Cinderella, a name from the fairy tale Palmer had read.

Palmer asked, "And what about her?"

Cinderella’s good mindset had already caught Palmer’s attention. Despite Palmer’s various flaws, as a competent employee of the Order Bureau, he still knew how to prioritize things.

"An accident. I never thought I’d get involved in this kind of affair."

This part Ewen spoke truthfully; he simply wanted to visit Nolen, an old friend, but got caught up in the conflict between Zongge Orchestra and Unfettered Poetry Society.

Ewen added, "Besides, look at me. If I had any sinister schemes... would I be courting death?"

Palmer thought carefully; indeed, if it weren’t for his critical rescue, Ewen almost died on Paradise, and no matter how he thought about it, Palmer couldn’t imagine any malicious motives from Ewen. Ewen was just an ordinary person, purely ordinary. Not to mention a Condenser; even the lowest Demon couldn’t be confidently handled by Ewen.

Ewen asked, "How are you going to deal with me?"

When mentioning these, Ewen’s breathing involuntarily tightened, the friendly reader interaction came to an end, and the truly important segment had just begun.

Now Ewen was sort of under house arrest on Horror, his life entirely decided by these mysterious Condensers, entrusting one’s fate to others was always unsettling.

Ewen asked, "Memory erasure? I remember that’s your most commonly used method."

"Hmm... I don’t know."

Palmer shook his head, "That’s something the Logistics Department is responsible for, but... "

Suddenly, Palmer’s expression became furtive, he draped an arm around Ewen’s shoulders like an old buddy. Palmer’s sudden enthusiasm made Ewen extremely uncomfortable, and immediately Palmer whispered to him.

"Let’s make a deal. If you agree, I’ll find a way."

Palmer told Ewen his demands, initially Ewen was a bit worried, but then his expression turned peculiar, furrowing his brow, he looked at Palmer with a strange gaze.

Judging by the content of the demand, Palmer indeed was his crazy fan.

Ewen marveled, "How odd..."

...

As night fell, Bologue stood on the deck, gazing at the distant scenery. Due to the storm’s assault, the lights of Free Port had dimmed considerably, like a vast sea of candlelight about to extinguish, flickering ceaselessly.

Through repeated tests, the properties of Constant Metal were confirmed; it was unaffected by Curved Path power, thus could not pass through Curved Path Gate. This most convenient means of movement was now ineffective.

Geoffrey suggested gathering some people to forcibly break the Constant Metal and directly carry away the primordial object under Constant Metal, but this proposal was strictly vetoed by Duwa.

"Didn’t you hear me clearly? This is a container, an object protected by such special property metal must be an extremely reactive substance to Ether, we might just destroy the primordial object the moment we open the Constant Metal!"

Duwa strongly demanded returning to the Sublimation Furnace Core to further cut the Constant Metal, his stance was firm; if it weren’t for prior knowledge, Bologue would have thought Duwa was also a member of the Sublimation Furnace Core.

After brief consideration, a new plan was devised, the Special Operations Group would remain on Horror for a while, waiting for reinforcements from Sixth Group and Violence Suppression Action Group.

This batch of reinforcements had been anticipated by Bologue; in the initial operation, the Special Operations Group and Violence Suppression Action Group set off consecutively, the Violence Suppression Action Group attracted the firepower for the Special Operations Group, engaged in continuous battles with Zongge Orchestra on the outskirts of Free Port for several days, and when the Paradise incident erupted, they rested in the wilderness.

Upon successful recovery of Gold and the information on Constant Metal, the Violence Suppression Action Group was approaching Free Port. This time, they would return to the Order Bureau with the Special Operations Group, escorting the operation.

This news made Bologue feel more assured about the return journey. With such a group of Origin School Condensers present, they would not just gain power significantly, relying solely on Yas’ Silence and Prohibition could cause endless trouble for the enemy, not to mention collaborating with Geoffrey’s Tiger Eye, one sealing Ether, the other immobilizing the body, enemies below the Negative Power Tier, to them, were just like targets.

Groups of Origin School Condensers, regardless of whom they faced, had the ability to fight.

Footsteps sounded from behind, very light, like a nimble deer stepping over dry fallen leaves, difficult to discern from the wind without careful listening.

Bologue knew who had arrived, Geoffrey’s footsteps were heavier, Lebius wouldn’t let anyone perceive footsteps, and as for Palmer, he would make a loud greeting first, then frolicingly approach.

Aimou leaned against the railing, "You seem a bit restless."

"Thinking about some things."

Bologue didn’t specify what kind of things, and seeing this, Aimou didn’t pursue the question further.

Their conversation lapsed into silence, the surrounding filled only with the sound of the sea wind; Aimou felt her cheeks slightly warm and flushed from the sea breeze.

Aimou looked for a topic, "Have you tried the local specialty cuisine of Free Port?"

Bologue shook his head, he wasn’t hungry, just had some crackers for dinner.

"How was the taste?"

"Terrible, very terrible."

Aimou shook her head vigorously; she felt she would never get used to the sailors’ food. Then she raised her hand and placed it on Bologue’s head, a phantom palm overlapping with Bologue, while Aimou recalled the taste of the food.

"How do you feel?"

"So odd."

Aimou affirmed, "Right!"

"No, I meant your behavior is odd."

Bologue turned helplessly. Aimou seemed to want to dig out his brain, "But honestly, this food’s taste is even odder."

"Haha, right! Right!"