Chapter 1587: Dust of Light

Chapter 1587: Chapter 100: Dust of Light

Opening his eyes, countless oil paintings hung on the walls, the women in the paintings showing gentle expressions, as if they came to life, and together they gazed at the figure awakening on the bed.

Serey rubbed his drowsy eyes, calmly meeting the women’s gaze. Initially, each time he awoke and glimpsed these images, his heart was filled with an indescribable sense of unease, as if the ghosts of the women in the paintings were still hovering by his side, whispering secrets.

Later, Serey gradually became accustomed to the stares. Sometimes, before falling asleep, he would intentionally leave some time, sprawling on the bed with a fine drink, admiring the faces that had long aged.

Wei’Er hated these paintings, saying Serey was like a low-grade Hunter, and these women were his prey, with the portraits serving as trophies, heads preserved in the room, boasting of his achievements.

It didn’t find the room cozy; on the contrary, it felt terrifying, like a morgue lined with corpses, filled with the people Serey once loved… at least he said he loved them.

Serey didn’t refute but had to admit that many, many years ago, when he was still young, he indeed harbored the thought of collecting trophies, preserving the faces of women.

Thinking back now, Serey couldn’t understand what he was thinking at the time; he only felt he was insane, both disgusting and vile, yet he was grateful to his youthful self for at least preserving the evidence.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t even have something to anchor his remorse.

“Ah… who will it be today?”

Serey stretched forcefully, sitting up and leaning against the headboard, his gaze weary as it scanned the paintings, glancing over one beautiful face after another until he paused briefly on one.

Taking a few seconds, Serey recalled the woman’s name, then remembered the experiences he shared with her many years ago. Like reading his own diary, Serey slowly immersed himself in the memories, also grabbing the wine bottle from the bedside table, taking a few swigs to accelerate his recollections with the alcohol.

Light and dizzying, like a dream—a real and yet illusory dream.

Serey dreamt of the woman again, dreamt of her gentle whispers to him, dreamt of her enchanting voice, dreamt of all the past beauty… if he could, Serey truly wished he could forever lose himself in beautiful dreams, but unfortunately, such dreams didn’t exist; even if the Devil could grant him such peace, he had no spare soul left to trade.

“Serey…”

A familiar, deeply profound voice called out, sounding as if it came from a distant place.

Serey squinted, knowing what was about to happen, just like the countless beautiful dreams repeated in the past, they would always culminate in an inescapable nightmare, dragging Serey back into harsh reality.

The blurred dream gradually became clear, its edges growing sharp, as if materializing into the blades of knives, slicing into Serey, leaving him scarred, fragmented.

Behind the fragmented images was a warm, gentle sunshine; the woman stood in the light, her figure cast into a dim silhouette.

“So warm, Serey, I’ve almost forgotten its touch…”

The woman spoke, reaching out to capture the sunlight, yet she grasped only a void. She turned back to look at Serey, revealing a captivating smile.

Burning.

The blazing fire scorched her body, the dazzling firelight entangled with the warm sun, and in an instant, the woman seemed to merge with the sunlight, returning to the light and dust.

She became like light, brilliant, untouchable, unreachable.

Serey observed the dream with a blank expression. Once, whenever he recalled this scene, intense pain would erupt from his heart, an eerie coldness permeating his nerves, inescapable, as if his body and mind were dragged into Hell, enduring agony.

Later, Serey, as if self-harming, repeatedly recalled that day, the wound healing only to be reopened until it could no longer be mended, laid bare, exposing the twisting flesh and blood, continuously bleeding, yet no longer feeling the pain.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Serey muttered to himself, the memories receding like tides, the warm sunshine gone, replaced by the dim interior. Gazing again at the paintings watching him, the women’s eyes lost their tenderness, filled instead with hatred and reproach, wishing the boundaries of reality and illusion could be shattered, tearing Serey into pieces.

The creaking sound of the door opening echoed, and Serey looked wearily towards the door as faint footsteps sounded, light beyond what a human could produce.

Wei’Er jumped onto the table, the black cat stood obediently in place, almost merging into the darkness.

“Another nightmare?”

“Pretty much.”

Serey climbed out of bed, his muscular body like a masterpiece of marble sculpture, putting on his pajamas, and casually said, “I’m used to it, it’s nothing.”

“I know, I’m not worried about you,” Wei’Er teased, “self-absorbed guy.”

Serey was amused by Wei’Er’s sharp words. Between the two, this teasing was common, after all, in some way, Serey and Wei’Er were similar, both having wandered among countless others.

Yet every time Serey mentioned this similarity, Wei’Er would sternly resist, saying it did these things out of survival, while Serey was merely playing, the two were never similar.

After stretching his slightly stiff body, Serey walked closer to one painting after another, his fingertips gently brushing the frames. He wandered, stopping only before the portrait that disturbed his mind. Serey’s gaze gradually lost its emotion.

Wei’Er said, “It’s really hard to imagine that you actually fell in love with someone.”

“I didn’t think so either,” Serey shook his head, “Never thought I would actually fall in love with Aisha.”

“Didn’t you love her when you were with her?”

Serey hesitated, “At that time… I wasn’t sure, Wei’Er. Before that, I never understood what love truly was. I was completely unaware of that unfamiliar feeling and naturally didn’t know if the bond between Aisha and me counted as love, but when she vanished into the light, I could be certain that it was love.”

“It’s truly unfortunate that when you recognize the existence of love, it’s the moment you lose it,” Wei’Er doubted, “Serey, you really are such a slowpoke.”

“Am I slow?”

Serey raised an eyebrow. In a moment of conversation, this bastard had already recovered, becoming carefree and nonchalant again, “Clearly, they all praised me for being so sharp, able to charm them with just a few words.”

Wei’Er turned disdainfully, shaking her tail, “So pitiful.”

Serey’s smile stiffened, “How am I pitiful?”

“It’s just so pitiful,” Wei’Er jumped off the table and walked to the door outside, “Those precious things are unfamiliar and unknown to you. You’re so slow, only realizing their importance when you lose them.”

Wei’Er’s eyes were filled with pity, “That means when you feel the beauty of something, it’s at the moment you lose it. Isn’t that pitiful? It’s practically like a curse.”

Serey frowned. He felt that Wei’Er’s attacks on him today were unexpectedly strong, although they weren’t much weaker before either.

“Did I offend you in the past few days?”

Ever since talking about the past with Sai Zong that day, Serey had been holed up in his room, hardly going out except for food and drink, meeting no one, let alone provoking Wei’Er.

“No, but do you need a reason to scold a bastard like you?” Wei’Er glanced at Serey, who was still standing there, “Hurry out, Sai Zong is looking for you.”

“Huh?”

Serey didn’t know why Sai Zong was looking for him, but knowing Sai Zong’s true identity, it was clear that Sai Zong’s status within the Undying Club had dramatically changed. Serey had even considered whether he should call Sai Zong ‘boss.’

Sai Zong didn’t like the title of ‘boss.’

Buttoning up his pajamas, Serey followed behind Wei’Er, swaggering to the bar. With the revelation of his true identity, the serenity of Eyes of Eternal Fury was hard to maintain, and Sai Zong no longer concealed himself.

His bare upper body was covered in countless flame-spitting wounds like bizarre scriptures, scattered across his emaciated frame. Bode stood behind the bar. Since Serey had started his slump, Bode had taken up the bartender’s job. Bode did the job well, at least he wouldn’t suddenly burst out with a comical pole dance like Serey.

Sai Zong turned his head and greeted, “Oh, good morning, Serey.”

“Good morning.”

Serey responded in a low voice. He noticed something was off with the atmosphere inside the bar—oppressive, cold, as if something big was about to happen.

Suddenly, Serey’s steps came to a halt. Approaching the bar, he saw the familiar dagger, the one he used back in the day to slit his kin’s throat. Later, he entrusted this dagger to Olivia… but now it appeared in Sai Zong’s hand, embedded in the bar’s wooden board.

Sai Zong noticed Serey’s gaze and said slowly, “Olivia entrusted me to give this to you.”

An inexplicable sense of dislocation swept over Serey’s mind. He suddenly felt that the scene before him seemed to have happened many years ago, as if reliving the past, and at some point, he had also obtained this dagger just like this.

Serey didn’t even notice as his voice began to tremble, “Ol… Olivia?”

“She? She’s off to atone for her mistakes.”

Sai Zong had a relaxed demeanor, his gaze towards Serey filled with provocation.

“Assassinate the Night King.”

Serey instinctively rushed forward, a frantic and manic power surged from his veins. Yet, before he could unleash it, he felt a strong impact coming towards him, like crashing into an unbreachable high wall. His body uncontrollably leaned backwards, toppling chairs and tables in his wake, with wood chips flying everywhere.

“What’s happening! What’s happening!”

Wei’Er nervously jumped onto Bode’s back, bristling like a porcupine.