The girl with white hair and red eyes is serious about revenge

The theme of Volume Three is “Human Nature”.

Unlike Yu who grew up in Slender Horse Lane, Kemp was once the only son of [Fiery Sun] Amost Li. Although Amost, as a border guard, did not allow Kemp to live in a big city, Kemp's childhood was one of the best in the entire territory of Lavis.

But such a life was shattered after the college war: his father died, and the young man he once was became a newspaper boy in the mud. The authorities' abandonment and people's indifference made Kemp despair, but also left a spark in his heart.

Therefore, after Aunt Enlia got into trouble, Kemp took this as an opportunity and could not help but cater to his own desires: even though he was not rational enough, he dragged Jessica to participate in the competition. If you are careful, you will find that in that section of Kemp's psychological description, I put "living a better life" before "saving Aunt Enlia".

Yes, Kemp's desire for the past life is deeply engraved in his genes, unconsciously affecting his behavior logic. But he is also a kind child, he keeps struggling with whether he should bring Jessica in, and even regrets it.

This is Kemp's entire struggle: he longs for a better life, but his kind nature constantly makes him feel self-contradictory.

This contradiction continued until Kemp saw Jessica fall ill, and from that moment on, he began to do his best to send Jessica out of the competition, even if he would die in the forest, even if he could not satisfy the desire that kept roaring in his heart.

Just like Pace who made the decision on the Wanren Mountain, even though he knew that what he was doing was not in line with his own interests and desires, his kind nature gave him extraordinary perseverance, making him a martyr in the end.

To be martyred is to die for the way of being a human being.

Camp's choice is completely opposite to Rain's choice: one reveals his true nature at a critical moment, while the other constantly fights against his own nature. This difference does not have any secular right or wrong distinction. Even in the current era of sophisticated egoism, Camp's behavior of "sacrificing oneself for others" has become childish and ridiculous heresy, which is despised by people.

Faced with such a conflicting choice, I have no intention of giving an answer. Extending from the plot in Volume 1 where Perlis decides her choice based on her stance, I think these are all personal choices, and there is never a so-called "just" or "correct" option. After all, human nature is complex and needs to be treated dialectically.

The same contradiction also exists in Perlis. As early as Volume 1, she was still a cold little girl who believed that "my choice depends on my position, and anyone who stands in my way will die." But in Volume 3, when she faced the boy who was about to die on the chopping block of Itrisna, she would rather take the risk and finally chose to help him.

It's really stupid. If it were me, I don't think I would do something like that, but she did it. According to the current Internet jargon, this behavior is probably called "sainthood", which is slightly derogatory. Indeed, as I said before, this kind of self-sacrifice is resisted by most people in modern times. People prefer to guard their own little piece of land and don't want to care about irrelevant people.

I also don't think this is wrong. I'm just posing questions and shaping characters. After all, I don't think I can give a rule or answer to something like "human nature" that is rooted in people but requires time and experience to reflect.

However, many of the characters I created have some unrealistic idealism like me: Aleph Stro, Perlis Hafgard, Pes Monarch, Shardo, Grace, Kemp, and even Ivar. Their actions and choices are often not based on interests, but more like irrational decisions made after being brainwashed by illusory ideals.

Ha, don't believe it? To be honest, if I didn't have some inexplicable ideals, with my writing skills and level, wouldn't I make less money by writing commercial articles that cater to the audience than I do now for love?

Who doesn’t love money? I love money, but my ideals are higher.

I was so naive, and this naivety made me earn only 1,000 or 2,000 yuan from writing this book! You know, this is not even enough to make back the money I paid Xiao Baihua for the illustrations and character creation!

In this regard, everyone should just laugh at it in their hearts! Don't say it out loud! Save your face!

Back to the topic, for Perlis, after she gradually "sees people clearly" and "sees the world clearly", her heart will usher in a complicated and painful transformation. In Volume 3, I spent a certain amount of space to write about Perlis's inner thoughts, which are completely opposite to her indifferent appearance. Along with these unrealistic but constantly melting ideas, Perlis's personality gradually becomes more and more mature (relatively speaking) from a little girl. This may still take a long time, and I am very happy to witness her growth.

This whole volume carries on many of the foreshadowings I laid in Volume 1: the final revelation of the sea of ​​flowers, Harilalee's turn, Laplace's plan, Carly's vague betrayal, the black tide on the other side, the warm-up of the Dila War, and the Wilkins' schemes. At the same time, I also introduced the main theme of the next four volumes: the mystery of Hafurgard. I did a better job than I thought in carrying on, recycling, and extending these foreshadowings. Anyway, I had an orgasm in my brain!! I don't care!!

(But to be objective, my current method of recycling and laying the groundwork is still not very obvious. This technique needs more practice and thinking. Don't worry, I can't really be inflated.)

The battle at the top of the Tower of Babel represents all my current thoughts on fighting scenes: I used every possible method that could make my fighting scenes look more rhythmic and visually appealing, and the final effect was relatively shocking. The dialogues interspersed during the fighting were also well handled, unlike the watery dialogues in Volume One.

A classmate who likes to read online novels told me, "It's pointless and thankless to write about fighting scenes like this." I don't actually know what most people think, but to me, this kind of fighting is really cool.

After all, it also requires control over words, not everyone can write it casually! (A little proud)

My biggest feeling after writing so far is that I still have a lot to learn. In fact, readers with more experience in reading traditional literature can see that my understanding of words is still more about "expressing freely" and lacks "restraint". Many times, I will unconsciously start to describe the psychology of the characters, which will lead to some of the characters' emotions being fixed, leaving readers no space for imagination.

In this regard, I intend to try to restrain my desire to express myself more in the content starting from Volume 4, refine some words, and simplify some expressions. Of course, this kind of repeated questioning and progressive psychological description is also something I like very much, and I will not lose it, but I also don’t want to limit my possibilities.

That's what I said. Since we are already generating energy for love, of course we need to hone ourselves on various levels.

I feel that I have finished writing here. I have unconsciously written down a lot of my thoughts when I was creating. This can be regarded as a record of a period of time. If the year of writing these three volumes is summarized as a cycle, then I hope that my next cycle can do better on this basis.

After all...I really like writing novels!

I love telling stories, I love words, I love Pearlis, and I love everyone who listens to my stories!

I thought I would be alone in the process of writing this book, but now, our book club has more than 30 people! It’s a small number, but it really surprised me.

It felt like the dark road I had originally planned had inexplicably attracted many more companions!

Thank you for reading my book!

As long as you are still witnessing, what I do is meaningful!

At least, at the age of 19, I feel that I can write books for the rest of my life! As for what happens in the future, in addition to relying on fate, my own efforts are more important!

Best regards! Perlis! Together! (Tried to press her head, but gave up)

Volume 4, "Falling Cherry Blossoms and Cold Steel Breaks", will be updated steadily from the beginning of next month! Before that, I will write a sequel and make some money!

Let time pass faster!

The Chief

“Everything is permitted.”

—Suleiman Agust

......

On rainy nights, Wiesel's buildings are hidden in the rain, with illusory neon lights in between.

Behind the curtain of heavy rain, a square building stood in the rain like some kind of stone tablet from ancient times. Neat lines cut through the outline of the building, with some azure light seeping out unevenly in between.

That was the headquarters of Lansta Industries, located right in the center of Wezel, just a few blocks away from the college building, facing each other in the heavy rain.

As the largest military enterprise in the Federation, Lanstar Industries has been continuously expanding its base since it obtained the patent for biochemical simulation technology. Today, it is responsible for most of the mercenary forces in the Grau Yad Wasteland, and most of the arms that have flowed out of the Federation are traced back to Lanstar Industries.

At this moment, on the top floor of this building with some ancient civilization style decoration, Basta Lansta, wearing a hospital gown, was lying on a bed. His old and thin face was facing the French window, looking at the city dotted with neon lights in the rainstorm.

The night before yesterday, the intelligence department of Lansta's private army brought a sad news: Itrisna Lansta, the only daughter of Basta Lansta, was defeated in the [Tower of Babel Competition] and would never return.

The one who took action was none other than Ivar Sekpas, the third seat of the Blade of Babel and the Scavenger.

Basta knew that this was a conspiracy of the academy. He was already terminally ill, and if Itrisna, the only heir, died, the Federation could use all kinds of despicable means to swallow up all the shares of Lansta Industries and make them the property of the academy.

He had long realized that Laplace would interfere, so he deliberately advised Itrisina not to participate in the competition at this time. But his daughter, who was proud of everything, had no intention of listening to his advice. In her eyes, participating in the competition was no different from shopping.

The wolf that has not yet grown into a dog will eventually be eliminated by the immortal old man on the Tower of Babel.

Looking at the rain, Basta Lansta's expression was like a sculpture, and he just uttered a name softly:

"Laplace..."

"..."

On rainy nights, the rainstorms became more severe.

At the same time, at the defense facilities in the Lansta Industrial Zone, one hidden city defense cannon after another rose quietly amid the heavy rain and neon lights.

Then, they all aimed at the same goal:

College Building.

......

On a rainy night, the edge of the city was weighed down by heavy rain, and the slightly low bungalows stood stiffly in the rain.

Gas lamps with a slightly classical feel were lined up on both sides of the street, with the flickering flames swaying unsteadily in the glass covers, staining the rain curtain with dots of orange and yellow.

Although the edge of Wezel is not dilapidated, it is in sharp contrast to the bustling city center. Most of the people living here are grassroots workers in the city. They need to spend at least four hours commuting to and from get off work every day. The first thing they do when they get home is to sleep soundly, which makes the streets on the edge extremely empty.

The rain was falling softly, hitting the streets. The splashing water made tiny sounds, and together with the classical gas lamps, they composed a requiem for the neighborhood on a rainy night.

After a long time, a dark figure quietly emerged from the shadows at the corner of the street. With his arrival, the gas lamps on both sides of the street flickered.

The visitor was wearing a black top hat and a suit. He looked elegant and refined, just like a gentleman.

The gentleman did not hold an umbrella, but just slightly supported the top hat on his head with his hand. His eyes on his sharp cheeks scanned the street through the round-framed glasses on his hooked nose and soon locked onto a light on the corner.

It was a bar. The shabby sign swayed in the rain and the words on it were unclear.

After confirming the target, the shadow quickly moved through the streets, and the gas lamps along the way went out one by one, and then quietly restored after he left. He walked to the door of the bar without making any sound, slightly adjusted his hat, and glanced up at the sign.

"Um..."

Illuminated by the light from the bar entrance, the gentleman's face finally emerged from the darkness: his face was slightly sunken, and he looked a little old, but he had no stubble and was very neatly groomed. There were a few raindrops on the round metal-framed glasses on his hooked nose, and the pair of cloudy silver eyes behind them flickered slightly, setting off the faint smile on his face.

"..."

The gentleman lowered his head slightly, took off his round-frame glasses, wiped them carefully with a handkerchief, and then put them back on his hooked nose meticulously.

After doing all this, he politely pushed open the bar door and walked into the lights.

The bar was not big, and the interior decoration was a little bit more refined than the exterior, but it was just so-so. On a rainy night like this, those who could come to this bar were basically people of relatively high status, who either did not need to rush to rest for the next day's rush, or did not need to rush at all.

When the gentleman entered, all the candles in the bar flickered unsteadily at the same time, as if blown by the wind. At the same time, almost everyone cast their eyes at the same time, mixed with some discussions.

This is normal. On the edge of the city, walking into a bar dressed like this is like walking into a tiger's mouth, and you will be the object of everyone's covetousness.

Facing such gazes, the gentleman did not seem to be offended. He held up his hat, smiled and nodded at the gazes, then walked to the bar where a bartender was standing and gently knocked on the table:

"A glass of Cannoli," the gentleman looked at the bartender, his voice gentle and elegant, "more ice."

"The girl under the cherry tree?" The bartender glanced at the gentleman and wiped the glass. "I didn't see your female companion."

Cannoli, which originated from Dilla, is a cocktail generally prepared for women, mostly ordered by men traveling with them, and symbolizes words such as "love" and "pleasure".

"Why? It can't be a sudden idea?" The gentleman curled his lips and slightly pushed his round-frame glasses. "I can find a lady on the spot, right?"

"Look at the back, there are no women here," the bartender frowned impatiently, "Change someone."

"This is my final decision," the gentleman looked at the bartender with a smile, "Thank you."

The bartender raised his head and looked into the slightly narrowed silver eyes. Although the gentleman in front of him was very gentle and elegant, there was something in those silver eyes that made him feel strongly uncomfortable.

For some reason, the bartender always felt that he had seen the man in front of him before, but he had no way to prove it.

After a brief silence, the bartender withdrew his gaze, lowered his head and continued to wipe the cup:

"....Fifty Fed Dollars."

"That's reasonable," the gentleman nodded, still maintaining a polite smile.

The bartender didn't look at the gentleman again, but began to mix this cocktail that originated from Thebes and was popularized in Dhira. He quickly mixed the sorbet with fruit pulp and cherry blossoms, and then poured the base liquor into the glass, his movements were very fast and professional.

Special) Chief (Part 2)

Watching all this with a smile, the gentleman held his chin with one hand and spoke in an elegant tone:

"How long have you been here?"

"Twenty-five years, starting with working for my mom." The bartender didn't look up. "First time in the Fringe?"

"Barely," the gentleman nodded and glanced at the wooden tables behind him. "Are they all old acquaintances?"

"How else can we maintain it? Master Weiser won't patronize this place," the bartender said with a hint of sarcasm in his tone, "Oh, except you."

"Strictly speaking, I'm not what you call a master," the gentleman said elegantly, with a hint of smile in his silver eyes, "Some business matters brought me here. You know, they are usually not so pleasant."

"Indeed," the bartender looked at the work in his hands and laughed disdainfully, "I bet that's not a legitimate job."

"You are right to some extent," the gentleman nodded slightly, "I am looking for someone."

"Oh? Looking for someone? That's interesting."

The bartender pulled the light pink liquor from the cocktail shaker into the goblet with an exaggerated movement, then gently placed the goblet on the handle and pushed it towards the gentleman:

"I know a thing or two about the edge of Wiesel."

"I believe you," the gentleman nodded with a smile and took the cup, "Your confidence overflows."

He put the cup of Cannoli to his lips and sipped it, then closed his eyes slightly, with the corners of his mouth curved:

“This glass of wine would make an excellent gift.”

The bartender seemed not to have heard the second half of his sentence. Instead, he smiled and said:

"My confidence comes from my strength. Believe me, you can't guess who is behind me. The business and connections in this area are basically in my hands. As long as you can afford the price, I can fish out the rat hiding in the sewer for you."

The bartender looked at the well-dressed gentleman, and his attitude changed 360 degrees since he knew that the other party was looking for someone.

For residents of marginal areas, fools from the city are usually the best targets for making money. Most of them are rich, but have little experience in the underworld, so they naturally become fish on the chopping board.

Noticing the bartender's eager gaze, the gentleman smiled softly, put the glass of wine back on the bar, and said with his silver eyes fixed:

"If you can find the person I need, I will give you a carefully prepared gift that will definitely be worth the price."

"Then go ahead and tell me. I'll definitely help you," the bartender said with a flamboyant smile. "Tell me who you're looking for."

Looking at the smile on the bartender's face, the gentleman still maintained that smiling look and nodded slightly.

He adjusted the hat on his head with his hand, and then spoke in an elegant tone:

"I'm looking for Jackson Lansta."

As soon as the name was spoken, the entire bar fell silent. Almost all the customers at the tables turned their eyes to the gentleman and the bartender, not disguising their surprise at all.

The most surprised person was the bartender himself. His previous smile froze on his face, and the hand that had been wiping the wine glass also froze there.