Synopsis: Endless Shuttle

"...Here is, where?"

Bell murmured, stood up and looked around in panic.

Finally, I noticed Rope who was standing quietly by the side.

The sleeping memory was awakening, and the expression of the white-haired boy gradually collapsed.

"No!"

Bell hugged his head and muttered in pain.

"I can't be here! Paul needs me! The Bolsheviks need me too! It's not true, I have to go back... The revolution has not yet succeeded, there are so many poor and oppressed people waiting for us to liberate them... …”

Rope walked over to Bell and patted Bell on the shoulder.

"Calm down, Bell. Carefully recall the real memories, haven't you forgotten? Everything you experienced in that world was just fake..."

"Fake?"

Bell looked up, his eyes filled with sullenness.

"No, it's definitely not false!" he roared as he cried, "I saw it with my own eyes! My friends died in the war, the eyes of despair when the people were slaughtered by their rulers! After the Petrograd uprising, the heart of my shoulders One shot, I almost died, Paul took care of me for three months. How could that be fake! Impossible!"

"Bell Croney."

Rope called Bell's name softly.

Bell was stunned.

"Remember who gave you your name?"

"grandfather……"

"Remember where you lived as a child?"

"A remote mountain village..."

"Then why do you stay away from the mountain village where you were born and raised you and set foot on the road alone?"

"Looking for encounters in dungeons...becoming a hero..."

The white-haired and red-eyed boy muttered, his expression like a cry and a smile.

"It turned out to be like this, I forgot..." Bell murmured: "I came into contact with the book of Lord God, and then entered that world... Whether it is Paul or those revolutionary comrades, they are all illusory."

Looking at Bell Cronney who recalled his true self, Rope nodded.

He didn't send Bell into the world of the book for the sake of creating a neuropathy, the fun of the devil is not there.

A long silence came, and Bell had been sitting on the ground blankly.

"Anything to say? How did the decades in the book world feel?"

"It sucks..."

Bell lowered his eyes and said in an old-fashioned tone.

"The poor class, oppressed and humiliated, in that world, only the proletarian revolution still has a trace of warmth... a red enough to fascinate people, for which one can strive for a fulfilling goal of a lifetime."

"So, do you understand what a hero is?"

"……Understood."

Bell looked at the blue sky and said.

"The one who can truly liberate the people is the hero, the people's hero. How naive I used to be, looking forward to the dawn of the hero Tan, but I forgot the reality of this world, and I just wanted to be an adventurer..."

His village had landlords and servants of the kingdom's nobles to collect rent.

Bell hated them, but only hated them, and had no other ideas.

After all, when he was a child, he was fascinated by his grandfather's dungeon labyrinth words, and he didn't put his eyes on those little things at all.

After decades of illusoryness in the book, he understood.

The real heroes are not those who shine brightly, but the unnamed people who are down-to-earth and fight for all the proletarian people.

Like his best friend, Paul Korchagin.

"It's good to understand."

Rope took off his hood and asked with a smile.

"We've arrived at Orari, Bell, do you want to go into the city with me?"

Bell Croney looked up at the towering city.

It's strange that the city that used to make me excited just by hearing its name has no feeling at all.

Bell even felt that he did not belong there.

The life of swinging on a train with a Mauser rifle in his hand was his.

He stood up, looked at Orari again, and said.

"No need, Lord God..."

Bell wrapped the wrap around him tightly.