Endless Debt

Opening his eyes, Boluogo rubbed his eyes and got up from the bed. He has always been an extremely self-disciplined person. He always gets up on time, whether it is a working day or a day off. His biological rigor is like a precision-operated machine.

Opening the curtains, warm light fills the room, bringing a sense of warmth that has not been seen for a long time, and brings bursts of warmth to the body.

Half a month has passed since the terrible vacation in Fengyuan Highlands. Looking back now, it seems like it all happened yesterday. Boluogo simply missed it, put on his slippers, washed his face and brushed his teeth.

On the third day after returning, Palmer was discharged from the border nursing home under emergency treatment. Then he fell on the sofa in the living room, wailing constantly, missing his hometown.

Maybe this is what is called homesickness.

Burlogo could understand Palmer, but only to a small extent.

Fengyuan Highland is indeed a good place, but for the current Boluogo, he is not willing to live there for a long time. It is a beautiful land, and everything is wonderful, but it does not belong to Boluogo after all. .

All traces of Boluogo's life are left in Oath City Opos. This weird, twisted city that is still expanding crazily is his destination.

In the morning light, Boluogo stretched his body vigorously, his muscles relaxed and stretched, and he felt full of strength. Then he changed his clothes and went downstairs for a morning jog along the street.

Bologo was one of the first people to wake up in the city. The streets were empty and there were not many people around. After Bologo ended his run, the city slowly recovered.

Returning to the apartment, Boluogo opened the refrigerator, took out the ingredients, and made breakfast in the kitchen. He ate very simply, bread and jam, fried a few eggs and sausages, and poured himself a glass of ice-cold juice.

After picking up the plate and placing the breakfast on the low table in front of the sofa, Boluogo turned on the radio. After a brief sound of electricity, the time connected accurately and a familiar voice sounded.

"Hello listeners! I'm Dudel, your loyal friend who broadcasts twice a day, welcome to this column!"

The moment he heard Dudel's voice, Bologo felt more relaxed than ever.

From getting up to now, everything has been carried out precisely according to the schedule, and everything has been firmly under control.

During this short period of time, Boluogo seemed to be the master of all things, controlling their operations.

Bologger closed his eyes and leaned back on the sofa. It felt so good that he felt a little sad at the thought of the delicate schedule being broken next.

Dudel's opening reminiscence was over, and the music environment was next. When the first song played, Bologo turned up the volume, hummed along with the radio, walked to Palmer's door, and knocked hard. After a few clicks, a sound of awakening came from behind the door soon.

Palmer opened his eyes, which were filled with red bloodshot eyes. After saying those words to Vosilin, he seemed to have untied part of the knot in his heart. He had not drank excessively during this period of time.

It may also be because Sere has not been at home recently.

After Palmer was discharged from the hospital, the first thing he did was to go to the Immortal Club and prepare to ask Sere what happened, but Weier said that after several people left, Sere followed him out and has not come back yet.

The violent music came from outside the door, giving Palmer a headache. He always felt that the low ratings of Dudel's morning radio were related to his style of music selection.

Palmer felt that normal people should listen to some soft music to soothe their mood in this warm morning, rather than engage in heavy metal rock, as if going out is not to go to work, but to go to war.

But yes, Boluogo is not a normal person, and their work is not much different from fighting.

Palmer turned over and covered his head with the quilt. Unlike Bologna's minute-to-minute schedule, Palmer was a casual person who would wake up naturally when he felt sleepy.

He still wanted to take a nap, but the gradually increasing volume outside the door hit his door like a heavy hammer. Palmer threw off the quilt and looked at the ceiling in confusion.

Palmer cheered hard, his voice getting louder, like a tractor starting up. After the rattling sound, Palmer woke up completely and sat up suddenly.

"Good morning."

Palmer greeted Burrowgo and scratched his belly, then sat side by side with Burrowgo and ate breakfast.

Palmer forked the sausage and stuffed his mouth full, "What's going on today?"

"As always, patrolling the territory," Bologeau said. "Beyond that...the minister summoned me."

"minister?"

"Yes, Minister Nathaniel."

Palmer was a little surprised. He didn't expect Boluogo to be summoned by that mysterious guy.

"Something about work," Borogo said.

When he heard about the work, Palmer lost interest completely and continued to fork food and stuff it into his mouth.

Palmer suggested, "Speaking of which, Burlogo, can you make something else for breakfast?"

Borrogo asked, "Tired of eating?"

"Kind of."

Burlogo vetoed Palmer's proposal, "People who are not involved in production have no right to make demands."

If he hadn't felt uncomfortable eating alone, Bologg wouldn't have planned to bring a portion to Palmer, a lazy dog.

When the meal was over and the dishes were piled in the sink, Palmer did nothing more, but he at least washed the dishes.

The quality of washing dishes depends on Palmer's mental state. When this guy's brain is muddy from sleep, Boluogo needs to wash the dishes a second time by himself.

If it weren't for the relationship between the two, from the perspective of roommates, Palmer would undoubtedly be a negative asset.

"It doesn't matter, he won't live long anyway."

Boluogo often comforted himself in this way.

Palmer picked up the newspaper. He had never been a person who cared about current affairs, but Palmer liked the section on strange people and strange things in the newspaper, which always brought him a lot of fun.

Scanning the lines of text, a black-and-white photo of a beached whale came into view. Palmer read the text on the side. In the past, this was a section that brought joy, but today Palmer couldn't laugh.

Borlog asked, "What's wrong?"

Palmer handed him the newspaper, "An unlucky whale has been beached."

Boluogo looked at the black and white pictures and text, and Palmer's words rang out, intertwined with the radio broadcast.

"The whale appears to have become lost, separated from the pod and has been wandering near Freeport.

The fishermen called it Char. Char was a very strange whale. The free port was full of terrible whalers. People had threatened and hurt it, but it just refused to leave, as if it was looking for something.

It often washed ashore at high tide and then stranded on the beach. Fortunately, it managed to escape every time, but this time it failed. "

In the black and white photo, Char can no longer be said to have washed ashore, and we don’t know how it did it. It crossed the beach and even approached the dense forest.

This time Char couldn't go back.

"Many people liked this strange whale. They sprinkled water on it and tried to help it return to the sea, but it moved forward stubbornly... and then died as expected."

He shouldn't have been thinking about such complicated things so early in the morning, but Palmer still couldn't help but wonder, what kind of mood did the whale named Char have when he washed up on the shore?

After tidying up his clothes, Boluogo still looked meticulous. Palmer picked up the car keys, put the key ring on his fingertips, and turned it around.

He opened the door and made a "please" gesture to Boluogo.

The car drove out of the parking lot and headed towards the Order Bureau. The two of them chatted in the car without saying a word.

Boluogo asked, "Did you find out the reason from Church?"

As for Church's suspicion, Palmer also mentioned it to himself afterwards. Since the priority of the matter was not high, Boluogo didn't pay much attention to it.

"No," Palmer shook his head. "Unlike someone like me who can talk about all his life experiences while chatting, Church has a very strict mouth."

"What he doesn't want to say, even if he forces it, he can't get the answer... You know, he is an iron whistle, and torture will not work on him."

Withstanding the enemy's torture in order to protect key intelligence is a required course for every iron sentry.

"Ah? You were once an Iron Whistle, but why can't I see it at all?"

Boluogo said suspiciously. He still remembered the first time he met Palmer. This guy was not a tough talker. In order to save his life, he would answer whatever the other party asked.

"This is different, okay. I'm just more tactful. Anyway, it's all wrong information. The other party can get what he needs, and I don't have to suffer the physical pain. Isn't it the best of both worlds?"

Burlogo glanced sideways at Palmer, his eyes filled with contempt.

"But how to put it...probably everyone has some psychological problems of their own to some extent."

Palmer raised a hand and waved it wildly in the air, metaphorically.

"Maybe Church has his own troubles, but he doesn't want to talk to us. I don't think we should be too pushy about this kind of thing. Maybe one day he will look away and be willing to talk to us."

"I hope so."

Burlogo recalled things about Church. He had always been a person with a good memory, but when he recalled Church, all his memories were covered with a fuzzy texture.

If it hadn't been for Palmer's mention, Bologg would not have thought of this person at all, as if he didn't exist.

Palmer honked the horn, interrupting Burlogo's thoughts. He rolled down the window, stuck his head out, and yelled at the car in front of him.

After staying with Boluogo for a long time, Palmer also started to show signs of road rage syndrome.

"Be quiet," Berlog advised.

Palmer hates the crowded roads in the morning. "It's not you who drives the car!"

"I want to drive too, but I don't have a driver's license."

Boluogo spread his hands and said it was none of my business, "You don't want to have your car impounded, right?"

"Have you ever thought about getting a driver's license? It's not difficult for you, right?"

Palmer didn't understand that Burlogo's driving skills were top-notch and he was a beast on the road, but he would always sit in the passenger seat unless necessary.

Bologo shook his head and explained to Palmer, "You need to think this way, Palmer, if I can even fulfill the function of driving, do you still have any value in existence?"

After saying this, Boluogo's expression became more intense, almost writing "You are completely useless except driving" written on his face.

Palmer's expression suddenly fell, and he stared ahead. The silence in the car lasted for a long time.

"Would you like to play board games tonight?"

"where?"

"Club of the Immortal."

Boluogo recalled the recent events. Apart from the conversation with Nathaniel, there was nothing important...

Life is like this. It's not about fighting and killing every day. More often, like now, it's like killing time by chatting with each other on a crowded road without any nutrition at all.

"good."

Borogo replied.

Sorry, I was too tired and slept through it.