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Chapter 618 Approaching Perfection

With the support of Boluogo, Palmer walked through the door with an uneasy heart. His feet touched the solid ground. The fragrance of daisies flowed from the bookshelves, and the flickering lights warmed his eyes.

face.

The large library was very quiet, and the pages of the books exuded an ancient atmosphere. Irwin walked through this familiar courtyard, and his fingertips swept across the spines of the books, wiping away the dust in the gaps.

Following the path in his memory, Irwin took out an old book, opened the pages, and wrote in neat handwriting the story of Irwin's experience.

This is one of Irwin's many diaries. Irwin has always had the habit of writing diaries. He needed something to prove the authenticity of his memory.

Irwin was certain that this was not his real Daisy Castle, but a false illusion simulated by Happy Park, but he did not expect that Happy Park could even imitate things hidden deep in his memory.

Irwin threw the diary aside casually, and rummaged through the blankets and medical kit according to the traces in his memory. In this huge castle, apart from the dungeon area, the place where Irwin stayed most often was the large library. As for

In other areas, Irwin allowed himself to be buried in dust and vines.

When Dudel came to interview him, he once doubted whether this castle was inhabited. Large tracts of vines covered the bricks and stones, as if they had been abandoned a long time ago. Only the stained glass of the large library still floated softly.

of light.

"ah……"

Palmer let out a sad exclamation, tears welling up in his eyes. Bologna obviously didn't understand what was going on with Palmer, so he put him on a chair aside and turned around to drag Hart up.

With the help of Boluogo, Hart was easily lifted up. The large library had a lot of space, and Hart also had thick fur. Boluogo laid him down on his side.

Hart frowned and his limbs twitched from time to time. The nightmare imprisoned him and tortured him without stopping for a moment.

Finding a suitable angle, Boluogo placed Gold's cards on the bookshelf so that he could look down at the few people.

Irwin found a blanket and handed it to several people, "There are no beds here. I usually sleep here wrapped in a blanket."

"This is your library and also your workshop?"

Boluogo took the blanket and noticed the work table at the other end of the large library. There was a typewriter on it. The manuscript pages were piled up beside it. Some were as blank as snow, and some were covered with dense text.

"I have always lived alone," Irwin looked up at the top of the large library. The glass dome was covered with dust and fallen leaves, dividing the light into countless fragments. "This castle is a bit too big for me.

, so I usually just stay here."

Bologg looked around among the bookshelves, "Isn't it more than that?"

"There is a dungeon below the castle, which is another studio of mine. My research on the extraordinary world is basically conducted there."

Irwin told his secret very frankly. At least in his opinion, there was no need to hide this part of the secret.

"To tell you the truth, that was many years ago. I was still young, somewhat famous, and made some money."

Irwin told about his past, "I was very careful. In order to avoid being discovered by others, I bought this almost abandoned castle. At first, my research made no progress, but one day, someone invaded me.

's castle.

I thought she was a robber, but actually, she was a demon."

Irwin thought of that woman. She thought she could control him, but after so many years, Irwin didn't even remember her name. She was just a tool, and her empty body had no allure for Irwin.

"She was an opportunity. Through her, I learned a lot of knowledge. Then, like a perverted murderer, I picked out some demons and imprisoned them in the dungeon."

Speaking of this, Irwin suddenly laughed, "Actually, the story I wrote is an adaptation of real events."

"What happens next?" Bologg asked, "You learned about the existence of eternal life and pursued it."

"almost."

Irwin flipped through the bookshelf, pulled out a simply wrapped first draft, and handed it to Palmer.

"What's this?"

Palmer took the first draft in confusion and flipped through a few pages.

"I have a first draft of my new book. I haven't decided what to call it yet. You can take a look at it and give me some suggestions."

Irwin's attitude was extremely casual, as if this was not the first draft of a new book at all, but a children's book to amuse troubled children.

For a moment, Palmer felt that the light first draft became extremely heavy. His hands began to tremble, and even his voice trembled.

Palmer was about to cry, "Are you...are you serious?"

"if not?"

Irwin continued, "Although I said that if I get the wish card, I will make a wish to let you leave, but my hope is still too slim."

Palmer took a deep breath. He understood what Irwin meant, but he still resisted the urge to open the page and put it aside.

"No...this is blasphemy!"

Palmer stood up excitedly, but Aimu slapped him on the head, "Be honest."

Aimu cut the cloth around Palmer's wound and bandaged his injury. According to the rule book, when they woke up, they would be able to recover a lot and start a new round of asceticism.

"It's okay, it's okay," Irwin smiled, "I told you, this is just the first draft. If I can leave alive, I will revise it several times."

"Then why are you doing this?"

Boluogo noticed the doubt, "Your work is not yet completed. If you die here, it will become incomplete."

Irwin Fleischer.

As the conversation deepened, the blurry figure gradually became clearer in Bologo's eyes.

Boluogo said, "I think you should be a person who pursues perfection in his works."

Irwin took out another identical first draft and handed it to Boluogo, "It is precisely because of the pursuit of perfection that I have to do this."

"If you have paid attention to my news, you should know that this new book will be my...autobiography? An autobiographical fantasy novel."

Irwin seemed a little embarrassed when he mentioned this. He felt that only those noble and admirable people would have autobiographies. Writing an autobiography for yourself would inevitably be a bit vain and arrogant.

"Fantasy is just external rhetoric. In fact, all the contents are real." Bologo picked up the heavy first draft. "They are all adapted from real events."

Irwin emphasized again, "Yes, it is adapted from real events."

Boluogo can guess the content in the first draft, which will be Irwin's life experience. He will fantasize the content about chasing the extraordinary world, just like when he wrote "Night Hunters", he will use it in another fantasy world.

replace.

A work that interweaves truth and reality, it will interpret Irwin's life...

Suddenly, Boluogo understood and understood why this was just a first draft, "Your journey to eternal life, this is the real content of your new book."

"I'm not sure if I can really fight for eternal life. Even if I fail, I can come back alive."

Irwin slowed down his speech. In this big library, he was like a traveler telling stories. His slightly hoarse voice made people feel at ease, and the stories he described also brought a sense of time.

.

"So I pre-wrote an ending for this book... I didn't like this ending. It was a figment of my imagination, not real."

Irwin's pursuit of truth is not only reflected in his behavior, but also in his stories.

"Hell, that means you are not only traveling for eternal life, but also for writing a book!"

Palmer reacted. For a moment, he didn't know how to judge Irvin. Should he call him crazy or crazy? But no matter from which aspect, Palmer thought it was pretty cool.

Going deep into the supernatural world, dancing with the devil, and participating in this crazy board game, Irwin not only wants to live forever, but also to write a book.

Palmer murmured, "Is this considered going out to collect materials?"

"That's right."

Irwin laughed heartily and continued, "Only after we have gone through all this, when I write this adventure on the page, will my work be truly complete and reach perfection."

Canary, who had been silent all this time, asked, "What if it failed?"

"Then it's a failure," Irwin said indifferently. "At least I took action."

Irwin patted Bologg on the shoulder, "Look, Bologg, all your questions about me will be explained in this first draft."

There are many similar first drafts on the bookshelf. Irwin gave everyone a copy. The bloody fighting and crazy exhibition were over. The plot suddenly turned into a work sharing meeting. Everyone found a comfortable position and fell asleep.

A while ago, I started reading Irwin’s story.

To be precise, everyone here is Irwin's reader, and for them, this is a good opportunity to relax mentally.

Palmer helped Hart sit up and used him as a pillow. He nestled in the corner and nervously and excitedly opened the first draft. Before he even finished reading the first page, Palmer began to feel sad for Hart. This unlucky man

I don't know what I missed.

In the silence, Irwin stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window covered with vines. From here, he could see a large sea of ​​daisies. The orange-red light shone on the sea of ​​flowers, and as the breeze swayed, they seemed to be burning.

Irwin took a deep breath. He hated false things, but he had to admit that this false library made him relax.

"In the beginning, I didn't really have any hope for the journey to eternal life."

When Boluogo turned over the first draft and approached Irwin, Irwin suddenly said, "But how can I put it, it is like a whisper that keeps lingering in my heart, it lingers in my mind."

Irwin stroked the cold glass, "I didn't even think I could come back here again, even though this place isn't real."

Bologg ignored Irwin. He quickly flipped through the first draft, trying to get enough useful information from it. At this time, Canary followed, and she spoke directly.

"Irwin, you don't have to bet everything on Funland."

Irwin asked, "What's wrong?"

"Since you know enough about the extraordinary world, you should also know that the one who can give you eternal life is not just the Desire Witch."

Canary directly stated her purpose, "The devil I serve is different from the Desire Witch. He cherishes all art and respects romantic poets..."

"Belfinger, I remember that name."

Irwin directly interrupted Canary, "When I left Daisy Castle, the first stranger I met was him. I didn't expect that he turned out to be a devil."

During the war in Freeport, Irwin received help from Belphegor. As Canary said, Belphegor left a good impression on Irwin. If there was a chance, he would not mind meeting Belphegor again. Have a chat.

"Then you should understand that he can also give you something like eternal life, and it is even better than what the Desire Witch can give you."

Canary did not intend to let Irwin go, and recruiting other poets was one of her accusations. Now it seems that Irwin is undoubtedly the most suitable candidate. He is simply a born poet.

"How to give it?" Irwin showed some interest. "As long as I shout loudly, he will come to us. I give my soul to him, and he will give me eternal life and save us from this purgatory. go out?"

Irwin laughed as he spoke. He didn't pay too much attention to Canary's proposal, but regarded it as a joke.

After speaking, Irwin looked at Bologg as if asking for his opinion.

Boluogo shook his head, "The devil cannot directly interfere with reality. Even if he comes to save us, he still has to rely on the power of reality, not to mention that we are in the Garden of Joy, and the Witch of Desire will not let him get what he wants. "

Canary was speechless for a moment, "You..."

"I need to sacrifice my soul to him in order to become immortal, right?" Irwin asked, but before Canary could answer, he muttered to himself again, "This is not possible, I don't want to do it yet. Giving away one's soul so easily is not what a noble person should do."

"Then what do you want to do?"

Canary laughed angrily at Irwin's words. At this time, she discovered that Irwin was an extremely greedy guy who longed for eternal life but did not want to give up his soul.

It's just a soul. What a bargain this is. Even though Bai Ou has begged for so long, he has never received such an honor.

"Didn't we discuss that plan?" Irwin described his fantastic idea, "First get a wish card to let you leave here, and then I will find a way to get another one to promise eternal life.

desire."

"Do you think this is easy?"

Listening to Irwin talking like this, as if what he wanted to do was as simple and casual as going downstairs to buy something, Canary began to wonder if she had heard wrong.

Irwin was silent for a moment, laughed again, and asked Canary.

"If you were a climber facing an almost insurmountable mountain, would you accept the devil's help and reach the top directly?"

Irwin immediately gave his answer. He shook his head, "No, that's too boring. If I write it in a book, I think people will scold it, just like a deus ex machina."

Canary felt that she could not convince Irwin anymore. She had never been good at persuading others. For this reason, Canary shook her head - shaking her head at the person who only existed in her field of vision.

Belphegor sat on the steps of the big library. He nodded slightly. He did not look at the canary, but flipped through the manuscript in his hand. He noticed a certain paragraph in it. Suddenly Belphegor understood that there was something wrong with this bet.

, why is Asdermo so confident?

It was quiet in the big library, except for the sound of turning pages, and Irwin could be vaguely heard talking to himself.

"The process is the most important..."


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