Personality V: I will save everything

Carl's first action regarding Victor's case was to maintain normalcy and continue writing to Victor as usual.

Since that day, Victor believed deep down that even if he opened the mailbox, there would be no letters in it. However, out of habit, he still opened the mailbox every day, perhaps in his subconscious, he still silently hoped that there would be a letter quietly lying at the bottom of the box.

But what surprised Victor was that he could find letters from Carl in the envelope every day. But now Victor no longer had the courage to take them out or open them to read.

He was afraid that once he tore open the envelope, what he would see would be Carl's accusations against himself; he was afraid that what he would see would be Carl's vicious curses against him.

What frightened him even more was that written on the letter was Karl's meticulous care for him.

Because he really didn't want Carl to be involved in this complicated matter.

Carl should not be exposed to these things. He should grow up carefree. That is his predetermined life. He is just a small "stain" in his life trajectory. He should not expand this stain, and he should not hurt Carl.

Victor kept telling himself this over and over again. Even though the letters in the envelopes kept piling up, even though the letters would pour out as soon as he opened the mailbox slightly, he remained unmoved.

"Hey, listen, Victor! You're really an unexpected person. I happened to pass by your house a few days ago, and look at that mailbox, it's about to explode! You're busy delivering letters for others all day, but you ignore your own letters. Don't you care at all?" With a rough and loud voice, Victor's originally wandering thoughts were instantly pulled back to reality.

The person who was speaking was Victor's colleague, who was engaged in the same mail delivery job as him. However, those mail delivery areas with superior environment and good conditions were always firmly occupied by experienced old employees. Only Victor, who was still young, lonely and had nowhere to go, had to shoulder the arduous task of delivering letters to the places where the gangs were entrenched.

Even though they knew the risks and consequences of sending a young child to the mafia, they still chose to turn a blind eye, as if nothing had ever happened. Every morning, they would still greet Victor warmly with a smile, just like a group of truly amiable and respected elders.

But Victor didn't seem to want to talk about it. He didn't even say hello and just walked away with his head down.

But his colleague was not angry. After all, Victor was often like this, and if he was angry, he would not be a "kind" senior.

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

After finishing his work today, Victor left work early. This was the first time in history. You know, usually Victor wanted to live in the post office and would not leave until the guard came in and drove him away.

But there was a reason why Victor was so anxious, because he suddenly remembered that it was not a good idea to keep piling up the letters in the mailbox. If he did that, those people would notice it sooner or later. If they opened the letters and read the contents, Carl would still be in danger.

When Victor brought the stack of letters back into the house and placed them casually on the table, he began to think about what to do with them.

In fact, the best way would be to put these letters into the fireplace and burn them to golden light, once and for all. However, Victor was reluctant to do so. After all, these were letters written to him by Karl...his friend...his only friend. He really couldn't bear to throw them into the fireplace and burn them to ashes.

Victor's eyes were fixed on the pile of letters, as if they were emitting an irresistible magic. His fingers were trembling slightly, and the desire deep in his heart drove him to reach out his hand involuntarily. Every nerve was shouting: "I want to see! I must know what is written inside!" This curiosity was like a burning flame that he could not suppress.

Maybe just reading it wouldn't have much of an impact, right? After all, he was already in the room, and Carl didn't know about it. As long as he kept silent and didn't reply to any letters, everything would be fine... People are often like this, with a little bit of luck in their hearts, always thinking that occasionally making an exception would not bring serious consequences. So, Victor finally couldn't resist the temptation and slowly reached out to the letters.

He picked one at random, carefully opened the envelope, and revealed the letter. However, what caught his eye was only a short line of words - "Are we still friends?" This simple question was like a sharp sword, piercing Victor's heart. He couldn't help but murmured in a low voice: "...Of course." His voice revealed endless longing and helplessness.

Victor wished he could pick up a pen and write the same words on a piece of letter paper and send it back to Carl. But his mind told him that he must not do that. Once his whereabouts were exposed, Carl would be in great danger. Although he was in great pain, he had to stick to his bottom line and not respond in order to protect Carl's safety.

However, when Victor opened the letters one by one with great anticipation, he was shocked to find that every letter contained the same sentence without exception: "Are we still friends?" This sentence hit his heart like a heavy hammer, making him feel a suffocating pain.

Victor stared blankly at the letters in his hands that were filled with doubts and uneasiness. His fingers unconsciously tightened, as if he wanted to crush them. And the papers seemed to feel his inner pain and struggle, trembling slightly under his tight grip.

Time seemed to freeze, and everything around him became blurry. Only the repetitive words lingered in his mind. After an unknown amount of time, a drop of crystal tears quietly slid down and gently landed on the letter paper. Then, the second drop, the third drop... tears rushed out like a flood, quickly soaking the paper, leaving a series of clearly visible watermarks.

Victor then realized that he had been crying for a long time. He tried to wipe the tears from the corners of his eyes with his hands, but he couldn't wipe them away. Instead, the tears flowed down his cheeks. At this moment, his heart was filled with endless sadness and confusion, and he didn't know how to face everything in front of him.

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

the other side,

Carl also felt Victor taking the letter out of the mailbox in the manor, and he must have read it.

It was not surprising that Carl could feel that Victor took the letter out of the mailbox, because he had previously asked the owner of the manor to exert a little divine power so that he and Victor could exchange letters even in the manor. Carl knew when Victor took out the letter and put the reply back into the mailbox.

"Carl, I really don't understand why you chose such a troublesome method." Joseph said as he placed the cake in front of Carl. "With your ability, those guys will disappear in the blink of an eye, without a trace."

Don't forget, what position was Carl assigned by the manor owner? He controls the afterlife. As long as he wants, all the gangsters will die in an instant.

"Hmm..." Carl really thought about this question for a few seconds, and then he immediately came up with the answer, "No!"

It is just like playing a thrilling game of chess, and Carl is like the chess player who controls the overall situation. He holds the powerful force and absolute authority that can overturn the entire chessboard and change the direction of the situation at any time.

However...the current situation has not yet developed to the point of life and death, so deep down Carl still hopes to abide by the established rules and order on the chessboard.

For the owner of the manor, what he hoped to see was not just Carl's blind obedience to the rules, but he hoped that Carl, while following these rules, would still retain the courage and determination to stand up and leave resolutely once the situation became unfavorable.

Only in this way can Carl truly become an excellent "chess player" that satisfies and reassures him.

Carl was in an extremely happy mood at the moment. With a smile on his face, he skillfully picked up the fork, accurately picked up a small piece of delicate and delicious cake, and gently put it into his mouth.

Then, he tapped the exquisite porcelain plate with his fork, as if announcing to the world: "Now, all the stories have just begun, and the chess pieces in this game have only taken the first small step. Let us calm down, take one step at a time, and move forward steadily. After all, the most important quality in playing chess is patience, isn't it?"

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

The bait has been spread out, so there is no need to worry about the fish not taking the bait.

Carl was not in a hurry to take the next action. He decided to go to where his mother was first and ask Her for his "reward".

"Mom, look, I did a great job this time, didn't I? This is how you should do it, right?" Like a naughty little monkey, Carl quickly slipped into the warm and broad arms of the manor owner and began to act coquettishly.

Carl's behavior at this moment was not without reason. In fact, he was consciously or unconsciously imitating the words and deeds of the manor owner in the past. Because in the depths of Carl's vague, distant and precious memory, when he was still a very tender and delicate child, his mother treated him like this.

"Well, baby Carl, you did a great job. Mom is so proud of you." I gently reached out my hand, slowly stroked Carl's small and cute head, and responded in a soft voice.

However, although the surface seemed calm, my heart was already like a turbulent sea, almost crazy! ! ! ! ! It was as if countless deer were running around in my heart, making it difficult for me to suppress my excitement and joy.

This strong emotional fluctuation made it almost impossible for me to remain calm. But in order to prevent Carl from noticing something was wrong, I could only suppress the surging emotions in my heart and try to maintain a seemingly calm expression on my face.

At this moment, there are two voices in my heart, one is joyful, and I am going crazy; the other is embarrassed, and I am going crazy.

Oh my God, this is so embarrassing, so embarrassing. How is this different from streaking in public?

I felt deeply that my dark history had been dug out by Carl, and I even wanted to kill myself by ramming my head against a wall.

But deep down in my heart, I felt an indescribable sense of joy. I was very happy that Carl was finally acting like a "chess player" instead of a "chess piece."

But I really feel embarrassed, as if my own children have learned the same remarks I made in my middle school years.

"Mom........." Carl's call brought me back to my senses. In short, I should calm Carl down first.

"Mom, I want to eat the pudding you made." This was the "reward" that Carl came up with. He wanted to eat the pudding his mother made. He vaguely remembered that when he and his brother were young and didn't want to eat carrots, his mother would give them the pudding as a condition to make them eat the carrots obediently.

But as they grew older and my brother and I were no longer around, they no longer disliked eating carrots, and their mother rarely gave them pudding as a reward. Also, as they grew older, they had access to more and more desserts, so pudding gradually faded from their sight.

"Okay, okay, Mom will make pudding for you." I gently touched Carl's head twice, and got up to make pudding for him.

"Mom, I want blueberry flavor this time." Carl suddenly shouted from behind me.

"?" This surprised me. If I remember correctly, Andrew was the one who liked blueberry pudding, and Carl liked mango flavor.

But fortunately, Carl quickly gave an explanation, "I want to try other flavors occasionally."