Chapter 429: The Heart of a Madman

Annan's breathing became more and more difficult, and there was phlegm stuck in his throat.

He couldn't open his eyes at all, and he could only move his eyelids slightly with all his strength.

Annan felt pain all over his body...not in one place, but in the subcutaneous, internal organs, and bones of the whole body. But fortunately, his spell is still in effect.

This has weakened the pain countless times - but even if it has been weakened countless times, Annan can clearly feel the pain.

What his curse can do is to make Annan calmer.

It was an unprecedented feeling of weakness...

Not to mention asking and chatting, Annan didn't even have the strength to scream. With each breath it becomes more debilitated, closer to death.

……I see.

Is this what it feels like to age and die?

If Annan has a clear understanding in his heart.

That is not a life that can be terminated by suddenly exhaling the last breath.

Rather die little by little. It's like the light of a fire that gradually goes out...

Suddenly, Annan saw something——

The most eager, middle-aged woman holding her hand... She seems to be the daughter of "own". Her body suddenly lit up.

Even if Annan didn't need to open his eyes, he could see her image.

(…Is this time finally coming to an end? It’s tossing me to death. The old man is about to die…)

As Annan's left eye warmed slightly, a very soft whisper sounded in Annan's heart.

...This is, [Angel's Left Eye]?

Annan was stunned for a moment before reacting.

The next moment, the young woman who had been sobbing in the corner finally cried out loud.

It was a howl that came out of his throat when he couldn't hold it back.

The man beside her sighed deeply, hugged the woman in his arms, gently patted her shoulder and comforted her silently.

At this moment, the young man also suddenly showed light.

(...Really, it's better to die quickly. Jenny hasn't slept for several days, her body will definitely not be able to take it like this...)

While the girl named Jenny was crying loudly, a real sadness spread around the room like a curse.

People who didn't intend to cry could not help but choked.

Tears flowed from their eyes subconsciously, but they didn't even realize they had tears in their own eyes. And those who shed tears are not always sad.

Even in the corner of Annan's own eyes, he couldn't help but get a little wet.

A middle-aged man suddenly stood up, lowered his eyes, sobbed, stretched out his trembling hand, and wiped the corner of Annan's eyes with a handkerchief.

"teacher……"

He spoke in a low voice with a choked voice.

With that solemn attitude, no one seems to be very sad.

But in Annan's eyes, he was suddenly highlighted:

(…Okay, I finally found an opportunity to express my [filial piety]. The teacher’s family now sees my sincerity, and when I use the teacher’s name to sell paintings to make money, they probably won’t come out to point it out because of their face. I am...)

Immediately afterwards, one person after another in the house gradually lit up in Annan's eyes.

A rustling, malicious whisper resounded in Annan's heart:

(...Teacher's inheritance, I don't think I have a share. Then I'll take the paintings from the studio tomorrow...)

(...I don't know if the second uncle's inheritance can fill Xiaomalin's gambling debts. This is obviously a terminal illness. What did you waste so much money on before, toss the old man...)

(...It's really retribution, it deserves it. If Grandpa didn't stop me from marrying Justin, I wouldn't have no money to find a priest now...)

(...I wasted more than a month of my time, but I'm about to die. This is good, I have no job...)

As Annan got closer to death, the more mourned those around him became.

But the malice that ignited in their hearts became more and more intense.

That might not be called malicious.

——It's just the expectation of Annan's death.

The old painter, who has been in a hospital bed for a long time, has already burned away the grief of his family and students in the long and near-death journey.

The noise in Annan's head gradually faded.

Everything around him suddenly became quiet, the pain on his body disappeared, and the whole person fell into complete silence.

... he remembered.

They weren't like that for a while when they first fell ill.

- Neither myself.

"Don't waste money on treating me, my disease is incurable..."

"Don't say that! Isn't it fair to not treat the elderly with money?"

Like flashbacks, Annan's vision appeared in front of his eyes when he had just fallen ill four months ago.

In people's eyes is anxiety and urgency, in words and actions, is eager and real "love".

But not long after that, the love completely burned out.

The trivialities in life, the energy, mental and financial resources consumed before the sickbed, gradually equalized or even overflowed with the "love" of the past.

I don't know where to start, but the desire to "finally survive" gradually turned into a desire to "die sooner."

Either 10%, 30%, or 50%.

What they showed was still the love of the past, but in the eyes of the old man, what was in their hearts could be seen at a glance.

...want to revive that love.

- only to die.

Let that exhaustion, irritability, pain, and sadness all be washed away and turned into nostalgia.

- only to die.

To be hated by people, not to be hated by people, not to cause trouble for people...

- only to die.

...is that what you want to show me, Denton?

Annan watched the flashbacks of his life in the old studio, and this thought came to his mind.

Not just letting yourself die in a nightmare.

This confuses one's own perception of "life" and "death".

But let Annan plant the idea of ​​"I am wrong to live", and let Annan have the idea of ​​"people are expecting me to die".

...and what does Denton do?

Outside, detonate this self-destruction desire?

"—this is so boring."

Annan sighed deeply: "It's not as interesting as the last trap."

In front of Annan, the nightmare suddenly fell apart.

He reopened his eyes.

The brilliance in his eyes dimmed a little, but in the blink of an eye, it overflowed again.

"Too weak, really too weak."

Annan sighed: "Why is this a lore? Who do you think I am?

"This level of fear is really too weak... I don't even have the slightest thought of 'I should die'."

"...Actually, really..."

The white-haired boy opposite Annan frowned incomprehensibly: "You... don't you have a heart?

"When the people who love you hate you, don't you have the slightest guilt? You don't even want them to give up on saving you..."

"—that's natural. People hate me, what's with me? I don't live for them."

Annan sighed and stood up swayingly.

The broken wall beneath his feet suddenly shook.

Seven shards of fear gathered together... The whole nightmare suddenly trembled.

The fragmented building fragments gradually spun and gathered together; in the void, buildings were outlined, filling the gaps in the broken walls.

The ship, which was originally broken into pieces, became tidy again in the blink of an eye.

Finally, Annan recognized it.

An overview of the ship.

This was... the first nightmare he had ever experienced.

An artificial nightmare created by Benjamin using John's soul and all the curses of Don Juan Geraint.

- That ship.

"Hey, make no mistake, Denton."

Annan looked down at the white-haired boy who was still leaning against the wall, and said very calmly, "I am not a saint, nor a god, nor a king.

"It doesn't matter to me how the outsiders are. I can't manage so much, all I can manage is myself.

"Like the spider silk nightmares before - I told them to follow me. But did I turn around and wait for them? Did I expect them? Did I give orders and direct them?

"Have I ordered them to follow me? Have I ordered them not to betray? Did I say a word when they backed off?"

Annan laughed happily: "Stop making trouble, Denton!

"I'm the only one who's not a normal lunatic, and they do what they like. I don't sacrifice because I want to answer their request, but because I want to get there, so I don't need pay; then I'm bored When they are hated and not needed, they will not respond to them.

"They like to play this game called 'life', and I take them to play. But when I don't want to, no one wants to force me to help them; if they don't like it, they go back and live their own lives. After all... …

"What they expect has never been my business."