Wizard: My career panel has no upper limit

Chapter 588 Dreams Must Come True!

When the second crystal door slowly opened, Eve was still not completely detached from Norman's story.

The despair of being trapped in the "revised truth" made it almost impossible for her to breathe.

But when she saw what was behind the door, all her thoughts froze.

That was not a library, a palace, or any physical space.

The entire room presents an eerie "flowing" state.

The walls are breathing, the floor is pulsating.

The ceiling rises and falls intermittently, as if the entire space were the internal organs of some enormous creature.

Even more terrifying are the "residents".

Thousands of translucent figures densely filled every inch of space.

Some were crying, some were laughing wildly, some were screaming, and some were whispering...

All emotions, all sounds, all pain and despair, endlessly echoed, overlapped, and resonated in this room.

In the center of this ocean of emotions, a figure sat cross-legged.

She was a young woman who looked to be around twenty years old.

She had delicate features, long, withered, yellowish-brown hair, and wore a magnificent alchemist's robe.

But the strangest thing was her eyes.

Those eyes had no pupils.

Instead, countless points of light of various colors are constantly rotating, colliding, and merging.

Each color represents an emotion;
Each collision generates new, mixed emotions;

These emotions were frantically assaulting her consciousness.

"Another lost child..."

The woman spoke, her voice layered with the tones of countless people, like a thousand-person chorus:
"No, she came to help me..."

No, she came to hurt me... Wait, she just came to check on me..."

Every word she uttered sounded like it was spoken by different people, with contradictory judgments coming out of her mouth at the same time.

Eve, fighting off her dizziness, cautiously approached:
"Hello, I am……"

“Eve Saint Mange, heir to the Crown Clan, nineteen years old;
Skilled in healing magic, with a gentle personality but a strong heart;
My favorite color is light purple, my favorite food is raspberry pie, and my biggest fear is letting others down…

The woman rattled off all of Eve's information in one breath, including details that even she herself was unaware of.

"You...how did you..."

"Because I felt it."

The woman raised her head, her ever-changing eyes staring directly at Eve:

“I can ‘hear’ all of your emotions, memories, personality traits, subconscious desires…”

She clutched her head in anguish:
"It's like I can hear all of them."

Eve then noticed that each of those semi-transparent figures was "telling" something to the woman.

Silent cries, invisible accusations, an endless torrent of emotions...

They all rushed toward the lonely figure in the center of the room.

The woman looked up again, a pure smile on her face:

"Welcome to my treasure trove. I am Elena Moonshine, an ancient alchemist of the Third Age and an explorer of the alchemy of emotions."

She stood up, gracefully turned around, and pointed to the containers around her:

"Look, these are the most precious things in the human soul—emotions."

"Love, hate, joy, sorrow, fear, hope..."

"I extracted them, purified them, preserved them, and then..."

Her smile became even brighter:

"Then give them to those who truly need them."

Eve felt a chill.

She remembered what her mentor had once said:

"The most terrifying kind of madness is not the obvious loss of control, but the kind of stubbornness that is thought to be clear-headed."

"Ms. Elena..."

Eve asked cautiously, "These emotions...where did they originally belong?"

"The original owner?" Elena tilted her head, as if this were a strange question:

"Of course they're still alive. I was just... borrowing their emotions."

She walked to a container filled with a deep blue liquid and gently stroked the inside of the container:
"For example, this maternal love comes from a mother who has lost her child."

"Her pain was so intense that it tormented her every day."

"So I helped her extract it, so that she could be freed."

"Now she is calm, no longer crying, no longer in pain..."

Elena's voice was filled with pride:

"And I can give this pure maternal love to those children who need to be loved."

"What a perfect cycle, isn't it?"

Eve's breathing stopped.

She wanted to refute it, to point out the contradiction in this behavior.

But Elena's innocent expression and genuine concern left her speechless for a moment.

This great wizard truly believed he was doing good.

She can't see it, or rather, she doesn't want to see it...

After losing the ability to love, that mother became an emotionally empty shell.

Those who are "gifted" with emotions only receive false and temporary satisfaction;

These emotions, imprisoned within the container, still retain the consciousness of their original owner, weeping in endless agony...

“You…you don’t you think this is…wrong?” Eve asked with difficulty.

"wrong?"

Elena's smile froze, and the light in her eyes began to spin wildly:
"How could it be wrong? I'm helping them! I'm healing them!"

Her voice suddenly became agitated:
Do you know how many people break down because of painful emotions?

Do you know how many people despair because they've lost the ability to love?

"My skills can solve all of this!"

"As long as... as long as we extract those painful emotions and give those beautiful emotions to those in need..."

Her voice began to tremble: "The world will become a better place, and people will be happier..."

"But..." Eve took a deep breath:

"If a person loses the ability to feel pain, can he still be considered 'alive'?"

"If love is not from the heart, but is given by external forces, can it still be called 'love'?"

"If happiness is built on the exploitation of others' emotions, can it still be considered 'happiness'?"

These three questions, like sharp blades, precisely pierced the core of Elena's logic.

Her body began to tremble, and the light in her eyes became chaotic and disordered.
"I...I just wanted to help them..."

"I just want to make the world a better place..."

"Did I...did I do something wrong?"

The surrounding containers suddenly began to shake violently.

The emotions inside seemed to sense the owner's confusion and began to frantically pound against the container walls.

Some were crying, some were roaring, and some were pleading...

"Stop! Stop it, all of you!" Elena clutched her head, letting out a painful scream:
"Don't look at me like that! I'm doing this for your own good! I'm doing this for everyone's good!"

But those feelings won't stop.

They expose Elena's self-deception in the most direct way.

Just as Eve was wondering how to react, a voice rang in her mind:

"Don't try to persuade her."

It was Ron's voice, transmitted through some kind of mental connection:
"Her logic is self-consistent, and any rebuttal will only cause her more pain."

"What you need to do is let her see the truth."

"What truth?" Eve asked in her mind.

“She’s already dead.” Ron’s voice turned cold.

"Elena Moonshine died in the middle to late Third Age."

"What you see now are the undead who have been summoned back from the spirit world by the 'End of Death'."

"She was forced to continue doing the work she had done before her death, day after day, without end..."

This information struck Eve like a thunderbolt, leaving her mind blank.

died?

But she seemed so real, so... alive and well...

“Look closely at her shadow,” Ron advised.

Eve looked down.

Elena's shadow twisted on the ground.

That's not a normal shadow.

It's like some kind of living, independent entity.

It constantly draws something from Elena's body and constantly instills something into her.

Deep within the shadows, a rune can be faintly seen—the mark of "the end of death."

“Her 'dream'…” Ron’s voice turned sarcastic:

"It is about 'completing the mission' forever."

"She wanted to create a perfect emotional cycle and heal everyone's pain during her lifetime."

"So 'Paradise' made her dream come true..."

"Let her forever draw upon emotions, forever give them to others, and forever 'help' others..."

"Until the end of time."

Eve felt a chill that went deep into her bones.

This is the cruelest part of "Paradise".

It is not punishing prisoners.

It is "fulfilling" them.

Give them everything they want, make their dreams come true...

Then turn this "beautiful dream" into an eternal curse.

"Ms. Elena..."

Eve walked up to her and asked softly:
Are you tired?

This simple question left Elena speechless.

She opened her mouth, but found herself unable to speak.

Tired?

She...she doesn't know.

All she knew was that she had to keep working.

We must extract emotions, we must give them to others, we must make the world a better place...

This is her mission, the meaning of her existence, and it is what she...

"I can't stop..."

Elena's voice became mechanical:

"If I stop, what will happen to those who need help?"

What to do about those painful emotions?

"Those ones……"

"But you have been working for seven thousand years."

Eve interrupted her:
"For seven thousand years, day after day, without rest, without pause..."

"Do you really remember why you did this?"

"Or……"

Her voice softened:

"Are you just repeating yourself because something won't allow you to stop?"

Elena's body began to tremble violently.

Her shadow began to twist and swell, as if resisting something.

"I……"

Her voice was filled with confusion:

Why...why should I do this?

Once this question was raised, the entire palace began to collapse.

One by one, the containers shattered, and the emotions inside surged out like a tide.

Instead of attacking Eve, they swarmed towards Elena.

Those stolen loves, hates, joys, and sorrows...

They all returned to where they belonged, back to Elena's own soul.

"turn out to be……"

"It turns out that what I've been plundering all along is my own emotions..."

"It turns out that I lost the ability to love not because I helped others..."

"It's just because... I also extracted my own emotions..."

All the containers shattered, and all the emotions returned.

Elena was finally able to fully feel...

What exactly has she been doing for the past seven thousand years since her resurrection?

She knelt down and burst into tears.

That was the sorrow that had been suppressed for half an era, the pain that had been deprived of for half an era, and the release that was finally allowed to "feel".

Eve went over and gently hugged her.

I didn't say anything, I just stayed quietly by your side.

Because she knew that Elena didn't need any comfort at that moment.

All she needs to do is... be allowed to cry.

a long time.

Elena raised her head, and the light in her eyes finally stopped.

Instead, there were a pair of clear, tired eyes.

"Thank you..." her voice was hoarse.
"It reminds me... what true feelings are."

Even though this feeling is so painful.

The crystal door closed behind them.

Hector remained seated in the wooden chair, the bells jingling softly.
"Elena Moonshine, a legendary archmage of the late Third Age, and the founder of the art of emotion alchemy."

His voice was weary: "She truly wanted to heal the world when she was alive."

"But she didn't realize that the prerequisite for healing is respect..."

"Respect the existence of pain, respect the integrity of emotions, and respect the choices of others."

"When she starts forcibly 'correcting' other people's emotions..."

Hector's smile turned bitter:

"She has already embarked on a path of no return."

"Later, she was consumed by the 'hate entity' she created, and her soul fell into chaos."

"Logically speaking, she should have completely disappeared, with even her soul being destroyed."

"But……"

His voice turned cold: "'The End of Death,' back then, the 'King of the Evening Bell' felt that was too wasteful."

"Such an excellent ancient alchemist, such a 'helpful' healer..."

"How could I die like this?"

"So He summoned Elena back from the spirit world and made her an immortal."

"Then send her to 'paradise' so she can continue to 'fulfill her mission'."

Hector stood up: "Do you know what the most ironic thing is?"

"Elena still believes that she is alive and doing meaningful work."

"She couldn't see that she was already dead."

"She couldn't see that what she was repeating was just a forced procedure."

“She can’t see…” His voice turned sorrowful:
"My own 'dream' has long since turned into the cruelest curse."

Eve clenched her fist:

"Why...why did you do this to her?"

Why not let her rest in peace?

“Because…” Hector’s smile twisted:

“‘The end of death’ requires tools.”

"He needs all sorts of tools to keep the world running."

"And those geniuses who died were precisely the best tools."

“So…” he pointed to the tightly closed doors at the end of the corridor:

"This place holds not only madmen, not only sinners..."

"And those undead who were summoned back from the 'End of Death'."

"Some of them didn't even know they were dead."

“They are just repeating the work they did before they died, day after day, thinking they are still ‘realizing their ideals’…”

"This……"

Eve felt nauseous: "This is crueler than any punishment."

“That’s right.” Hector nodded.
"This is the rule of 'paradise', the true meaning of 'dreams must come true'."

"You want to heal the world? Fine, then heal it forever."

"You want to explore the truth? Fine, then explore forever."

"What do you want to protect? Okay, then protect it forever."

“Until…” His voice faded into the distance:
"Until you forget why you did it."

"Until your mission becomes your prison."

"Until your dream becomes your curse."

Hector walked to the third door and lightly touched the door with his finger:
"The last one."

“This time…” His voice turned serious:
“You will meet a true ‘sober one’.”

"He had neither Norman's confusion nor Elena's self-deception."

"He knew exactly where he was, knew exactly why he was imprisoned, and knew exactly what was happening in the outside world."

"But he..."

For the first time, awe appeared in Hector's voice: "He chose to stay here."

I cannot say his name.

"Its very existence is the greatest taboo of this era."

He looked at Eve: "Are you sure you want to go in?"

"If you hear or see anything inside..."

"Those things may forever change your perception of the world."

You might regret it.

“But I have to go.” Eve’s voice was soft, but her determination was as firm as iron.

"If I don't even have the courage to face the truth, what right do I have to talk about 'absurdity'?"

Hector was silent for a moment, then finally nodded:
"Very good, but remember..."

"No matter what he says, don't ask for details."

"Don't try to understand the full meaning behind his words."

"Because some truths are beyond your current level of understanding to bear."

"If you experience headaches, dizziness, or hear sounds that shouldn't be there..."

"Get out immediately."

"Otherwise, your brain will break down due to information overload."

Eve took a deep breath and pushed open the black door.

Behind the door was a pure gray space.

There were no walls, no decorations, not even a “false illusion.”

There was only one figure, sitting cross-legged in the center of the space.

It was a man who looked to be about forty years old, dressed in a simple gray robe.

His face was expressionless, and his eyes were as calm as an ancient well.

Hearing footsteps, he slowly opened his eyes:
"Here comes another one."

"Which number are you?" His voice was terrifyingly calm.
"I can't quite remember, maybe it's the thirty-second, maybe it's the forty-seventh."

“Every few hundred years, they send in a young person with ‘potential’.”

"They call it a 'test,' but what is it really like?"

A sarcastic smile curled at the corner of his mouth:
"It's a test to see if I can still be 'educated'."

"It's to confirm whether I have 'confessed'."

Eve felt a sense of unease.

This person is completely different from the previous two.

Norman is immersed in cognitive confusion, while Elena hides in false illusions.

But the person in front of me... he was frighteningly lucid.

"Do you... know why you're here?"

"Of course I know," he said calmly.

"Because I almost touched 'that door'."

"Because I saw what was behind the door just as I was about to cross it."

"Because I refused to cross over in the way 'they' expected, so..."

He opened his arms: "I have been imprisoned here for an entire era."

Eve's breathing stopped.

“That door…” she asked tentatively, “You mean, the Witch King’s threshold?”

“Threshold.” He repeated the word, his smile growing even more sarcastic:

"What an apt metaphor."

Do you know what a 'threshold' is?

"That's a boundary, a dividing line."

“Step over it and you’ll enter the ‘inside’.”

“But at the same time…” His eyes deepened:
"You will never be able to go back 'outside' again."

Eve wanted to ask more questions, but suddenly felt a headache coming on.

It felt as if something was expanding in her brain.

"Don't ask anymore." The man shook his head.
"At your current level, you can't even fully understand the true meaning of what I just said."

"If I continue, you will die."

"This isn't a metaphor; you really could die."

"Your brain will break down because it tries to process information that is beyond its cognitive range."

He stood up and walked over to Eve:
"However, I can tell you about some... 'phenomena'."

"Some of the parts that you can understand."

"As for the truth behind these phenomena..."

His smile was filled with sorrow:

"You will understand when you are old enough to know."

"If you will never be qualified, then pretend I said nothing."

Eve nodded, trying to suppress her headache.

The man turned his back and looked into the void:

"The first phenomenon: Have you noticed that most of the people imprisoned in 'Paradise' have one thing in common?"

“They were all… ‘saw something’.”

“Norman saw ‘history that should not be recorded’.”

"Elena went in a direction that should not have been studied."

"And I..." He paused for a moment:
“I saw a sight I shouldn’t have seen.”

"But the problem is..."

He turned around: "Who decides what 'shouldn't' be done?"

"Who has the right to define which histories can be recorded and which must be forgotten?"

"Who has the right to judge which truths can be revealed and which must be buried?"

His voice turned cold: "The answer is simple."

"The winner".

"Those who stand at the top of the pyramid of power."

“Those beings that you call ‘Witch King’ and… ‘Demon God’.”

Eve's headache worsened.

She could sense that there was a deeper meaning hidden in the man's words.

But when she tries to understand, she feels a sharp pain in her brain, as if it's being pricked with needles.

"The second phenomenon."

The man didn't look at the girl beside him and continued speaking:

"Have you ever wondered why the ruler of 'Paradise' is always the 'Ruling Witch King'?"

"Not some other, older Witch King, not the Court of Truth, and certainly not the Alliance of Schools."

"Only the person sitting in that position is qualified to oversee this place."

"Why?" His smile was full of sarcasm.
"Because only they know the true meaning of 'paradise'."

"This is not just a prison, it's also..."

He seemed to be carefully choosing his words:

A repository for "evidence".

"A showroom for 'losers'."

"as well as……"

His voice became extremely low:

"A display stand for 'warnings'."

"Warning what?" Eve couldn't help but ask.

"A warning to those who are about to cross the 'threshold'."

The man turned to look at her:
“Tell them…”

“If you don’t follow the ‘rules’ and cross over, this is what will happen to you.”

“If you try to refuse the ‘price,’ you will be imprisoned here.”

"If you want to remain 'human'..."

A look of sorrow flashed in his eyes: "Then you will never become a true 'god'."

Eve's mind felt as if it had been struck by lightning.

She suddenly understood something, but that understanding was too vague and too terrifying.

"The third phenomenon."

The man's voice pulled her back to reality:

Do you know how many people have gone missing in this world?

"Not dead, but missing."

"Those geniuses who once stood at the pinnacle of power."

"Those wizards who are about to break through to a higher level."

"Some of them, you will see records of 'unfortunately falling' in history books."

"But there's still a portion..."

He pointed around: "They're here."

"Or, somewhere even deeper than here."

"In those 'deep prisons' that even 'paradise' would not accept."

His voice became ethereal: "You think 'Paradise' is already the lowest level?"

"No, this is just a 'showroom'."

"Those who are truly dangerous, those who truly 'know too much,' those who truly 'reject too thoroughly'..."

"They are in a deeper place."

"In those places where even names cannot be mentioned."

“In those…” He suddenly stopped and looked down at his feet:

"That's enough, that's enough."

“If we go any further, even that ‘clown’ can’t protect you.”

He sat down again:
"Remember these 'phenomena' I've mentioned."

"Perhaps one day, when you are strong enough, you will find the answer yourself."

"Perhaps you will discover..."

His smile was filled with despair:

"Some truths are better left unknown."

"Some doors are better left unopened."

"Some costs are simply unbearable for humans."

Eve wanted to ask more questions, but her headache had become unbearable.

She could feel her brain trying to process the information and understand its meaning.

But each attempt only triggered more intense pain.

Just as she was about to collapse, Ron's consciousness fully manifested:
"That's enough." He looked at the man. "You've said enough."

"Any more and she really won't be able to handle it."

The man looked at Ron, somewhat surprised:
"interesting."

"A young man of the Moon-level was able to remain conscious even under 'observation'."

"who are you?"

“I am her mentor.”

Ron frowned. "Yeah, someone else who's also looking for answers."

The man sized up Ron for a long time, then revealed a meaningful smile:

"Looking for answers?"

"Then I'll give you a suggestion..."

"Do not search."

"Because when you find the answer, you will discover..."

His voice became extremely eerie:

"The problems have only just begun."

"When you know what 'this system' is, you'll want to know 'why'."

"When you know 'why,' you'll want to know 'who.'"

"When you know 'who' it is, you'll want to know 'the purpose'."

"And when you know the 'purpose'..."

For the first time, true madness appeared in his eyes:

"You'll understand why I'd rather stay here for almost an entire era than cross that 'door'."

"Because of the price behind the door..."

He suddenly stopped and shook his head:

"Forget it, it's too early for you to talk about these things now."

"Once you reach the Dark Sun level, have that 'clown' take you to the real 'paradise'."

"I'll tell you then..."

He looked at Ron: "A version of the truth that 'you won't die'."

"As for the complete truth..." His smile was filled with sorrow:
"If you really want to know, then keep going."

"One day, you will be 'forced' to know."

“Just like me.” He closed his eyes again:

"Now, take this child and leave."

"She has reached her limit."

“If she stays any longer, her soul will suffer permanent damage.”

Ron nodded and led Eve out of the gray space.

..............................

When Eve returned to the hallway, her face was ashen and her forehead was covered in cold sweat.

Hector immediately stepped forward, and a purple light enveloped her:
"You've seen too much, and you've heard too much."

His voice was filled with worry:

"For the next seven days, you will have nightmares constantly."

"Your brain will try to process information that it cannot understand."

"This process will be painful, but you have to get through it."

"remember……"

His voice became stern:

"Don't try to 'understand' that information."

"Don't try to 'fill in' those gaps."

"Let them remain there, blurry and chaotic."

"When you are strong enough, they will become clear on their own."

"If you force yourself to understand now..."

A look of compassion appeared in His eyes:

"You'll go crazy."

Eve nodded weakly.

She could feel something surging in her brain.

The "phenomena" those men mentioned, the subtle hints, the unspoken truths...

They were like puzzles, constantly swirling and colliding deep within her consciousness.

But whenever she tried to piece them together into a complete picture, she felt as if her brain was about to split open.

"Let's go." Hector waved his hand, and space began to distort.
"Your test is over."

"Although the process was more... intense than I expected."

“But you did pass.” He looked at Eve:

“You were not crushed by fear, nor were you defeated by the truth.”

"You still chose to stand up and keep moving forward."

"That's enough."

As she finished speaking, a new power surged within Eve's body.

That was the magic of interwoven purple and black, carrying both absurd mockery and profound empathy.

"Congratulations, Eve."

Hector's voice, unusually, carried a touch of sincerity:
"You are the most resilient 'actor' I have ever met."

"Remember, the power you now possess can be used to heal, or it can be used to destroy."

“You can achieve deep spiritual healing by resonating with the other person’s ‘anxiety’.”

“You can also undermine someone’s will by amplifying their sense of absurdity.”

"How to use it depends on your 'choice'."

"By the way, there's one more thing."

"What that man said earlier was right."

"When your mentor reaches the Dark Sun level..."

He looked at Ron's projection in the distance:

“Let him come to me, and I will take him to the real ‘paradise’.”

“The patients there are completely different from those here.”

"If he really has the ability, he could 'cure' one of them..."

His smile was full of irony:

“I will let him take him away and make him my subordinate.”

"but……"

His voice suddenly turned serious: "Be prepared."

"Because those 'patients,' their very existence is the greatest taboo of this era."

"To cure them means to restore their memories."

"And in their memories..."

An extremely complex emotion flashed in his eyes:
"There are truths that even I dare not fully face."

"There are secrets that could potentially cause the collapse of the entire civilized order."

"Those..."

He took a deep breath: "If this knowledge is made public, it will trigger a disaster far worse than the need for an 'epoch restart'."

“So…” He walked toward Ron:

"You should think carefully when the time comes."

"Some things, once you know them, you can never go back."

"If you learn some secrets, you must bear the corresponding responsibility."

“Some truths…” His voice became ethereal:
"It might make you the next person imprisoned in 'Paradise'."

..............................

In the underground secret chamber of the Emerald Pavilion.

Eve suddenly opened her eyes, gasping for breath.

Ron immediately stepped forward and handed her a bottle of special recovery potion:

"Drink slowly, don't rush."

Eve took the medicine, her hands still trembling violently.

She could feel something churning and struggling inside her brain.

Those "incomplete truths," those "subtle hints," those "deliberately left gaps"...

They were like hooks, catching her curiosity but preventing her from seeing the whole picture.

"Mentor..." her voice was weak:
"Is there really no way to rescue those people?"

Ron was silent for a moment:
"It's hard."

"Norman's memories have been altered; Elena doesn't even know she's dead, and the man is a willing prisoner."

“Each case has its own inescapable shackles.”

"But."

His voice became firm:
"At least now, someone remembers their story."

"Does anyone know how many truths are buried behind this seemingly peaceful world?"

"This memory will one day become a seed of change."

"And what that last person said... about those 'phenomena'..."

"Don't think about it anymore," Ron interrupted her.

"You are not yet able to bear the full truth."

"Forcing yourself to understand will only hurt you."

He placed his hand on Eve's forehead:
"I'm going to put a 'seal' on you now."

"It will temporarily blur your memory of those 'dangerous messages'."

"Once you reach the Dark Sun level, the seal will be automatically lifted."

"By then, your soul will be strong enough to truly understand those things."

Eve wanted to refuse, but she could feel that her brain was on the verge of collapse.

The feeling was like trying to hold the entire ocean in a small cup.

“Okay…” she nodded weakly.

Ron's magic transformed into a gentle light, enveloping Eve's head.

Those dangerous memories, those incomprehensible hints, gradually became blurred and distant.

However, some key "phenomena" have been preserved:

The prisoners in "Paradise" all "saw things they shouldn't have seen".

The ruling witch king is the sole administrator here.

Some truths are beyond her current capacity to bear.

The "threshold" of the Witch King requires paying a terrible "price".

And most importantly... those were the man's last words: "The problem has only just begun."

Once the seal was complete, Eve's breathing finally calmed down.

“Mentor, I now... understand a little why some people would rather live in 'ignorance'.”

"Because 'knowing' is just too painful."

Ron nodded: "That's the cruel part of this world."

"Ignorance can sometimes be a blessing."

"But once you embark on the path of seeking the truth..."

A resolute glint flashed in his eyes: "There's no going back."

Eve remained silent for a long time before finally standing up slowly:

“Mentor, I would like to apply to inherit Grandpa Yutel’s illusory remains now.”

These words startled Ron slightly.

"Are you sure?"

"I am sure."

Eve's voice was soft, but her determination was unwavering:
"If this world truly harbors so much darkness..."

"Then I need strength even more."

"It's not about revealing everything; I know that could lead to a bigger disaster."

"But at least..."

A light ignited in her eyes:

"At least, I can protect the people I want to protect."

"At least, I can do something within my capabilities."

Even if it's just a little bit, even if it can't ultimately change the overall situation.

"This is my choice amidst absurdity."

Ron looked at her for a long time, and finally smiled with satisfaction:

"Okay, I will submit the application to the Court of Truth for you."

But a sense of foreboding crept into his heart.

Professor Yutel's illusory remains hold too many secrets.

Those secrets are perhaps what some beings want to bury forever.

Eve's application will likely...

Touching something that shouldn't have been touched.

More importantly… he remembered the man’s final warning:

"Some doors are better left unopened."

"Some costs are simply unbearable for humans."

If Professor Yutel's remains truly carry some "truth that shouldn't be known"...

What will the person who inherits it face?
Will I become the next prisoner sent to "Paradise"?

"I hope..."

Ron silently told himself, "The worst can't happen."

(End of this chapter)