"I think this responsibility should largely be attributed to my 'Blessing,' which means, blame the Devil who took my soul.
Isn't that right, Bologue?
When misfortune befalls someone, it's just like this. It's not like I want it this way, but once the 'Blessing' takes action, it's beyond my control."
Amidst the noisy rain, Palmer kept defending himself, like a hostage trying desperately to earn a shred of mercy from a ruthless bandit.
Bologue ignored him, sitting on the steps, gazing into the distance, watching a beam of light only he could see.
The light was moving away, every passing minute and second increasing the distance between Bologue and it, until it was utterly out of reach. Yet, in this urgent time, Bologue and Palmer were sitting in a gas station, waiting for the just-awoken attendant to refuel their motorcycles.
"I usually remember to refuel, just forgot this one time," Palmer wailed loudly.
