soul stone

Although it is still fifteen floors away from completion, the view from the top of Trump Tower is still magnificent.Joshua was standing on the edge without the guardrail, his white robe rattling in the wind.The silver hair was scratching his cheek, but he didn't care, staring at the street scene under his feet.A city that is in decline and decline on weekdays is as beautiful as a picture scroll when viewed from a distance.This is why he likes to overlook the landscape.

"Joshua, none of this is your responsibility, nor anyone's. It is not fate, it is not accident, it is not any of your guesses. The real cause is the world. I, you, each of us, It is constantly dying. The whole universe is a process of destruction, and our existence is just its silhouette. For example, the wind is just the flow of air, and it will stop one day. Listen carefully, and the metaphor will be clear. "

The wind blows the memory recordings of the past, and the ethereal voice seems to come from the end of time.

"You can't stop, Joshua. You can't give your heart to anyone. You are the wind, and you live without breath."

Approaching footsteps interrupted his thoughts.Joshua didn't look away, and with a faint smile, he said in a lazy voice: "Don't you rest at noon? Captain."

"I want to take a breath." The footsteps stopped beside him.Kuroro was still wearing the black fur collar coat, with his hands in his pockets, looking into the distance.

Joshua turned his face away, quietly staring at the reverse cross tattoo on his forehead.

"Huh?" Kuroro tilted his head.

"No, nothing."

Joshua turned his head and looked into the distance.By the sea, there are a few old boats parked at the pier, and the winter sun shone weakly on the gray boats.

"Captain."

"?"

"Someone told me that the God we trust actually wants to destroy the world. Is it true?"

The black-haired man was slightly surprised, stared at his face for two seconds, then turned his head.

After a while, he replied in a tone as calm as the night: "Exactly."

"...Really." The purple light in Joshua's eyes dimmed a bit. "Since the leader said so, it seems that he is right."

"However, what that person was referring to was not gods in the general sense, but the objective laws governing the universe. It is unfair to call them 'Gods', because the gods people believe in are just self-comfort that deliberately ignores the laws of the universe. From In this sense, what is commonly referred to as God is precisely the existence that disobeys God.”

The silver-haired man opened his eyes wide, and his purple pupils shone with curiosity and puzzlement.

"On the contrary, we, against God, are the existence closest to the true God."

Kuroro lifted his chin slightly, overlooking the scenery with an unprecedented attitude.The strong wind blew past, blowing up the hem of his black clothes.The strands of hair obscured his sight, and the reverse cross pattern fluttering in the wind occupied Joshua's vision.

"Join the brigade?" The silver-haired boy yawned and muttered while wiping away his tears, "I can't, I'm the wind, and I have nothing to live for."

——I am the wind, living without rest.

Whenever he said this sentence, his response was always sarcasm, and when he was unlucky, he was punched and kicked.Whenever he crawled back to the humble house with a bruised nose and a swollen face, there would always be a voice caressing his wound like a breeze:

"It's okay, Joshua. The wind's wound will be filled by a stronger wind."

However, that time, he stood on a high mountain of rubbish, his obsidian-like pupils shone with the light of hope like a creator.

"What a coincidence, we are like-minded."

He looked behind him, those people with unruly eyes, who were fearless like the wind and never stopped, and then looked at the black-haired boy who had become a leader with a childish face.

The one who weaves the wind, Chrollo Rushiru.

The gust of wind subsided, and when he retracted his thoughts, the leader had already left.Joshua stared blankly at the stairs, and finally lifted his footsteps.

Around the wind weaver, there should be no existence other than wind.

·

Meteor Street Ninth District, Violet Knives Shop.

In the narrow and dark basement, a candlestick was lit every one meter on the stone wall. The fire light was different from the usual candle flame, but presented a strange purple red.Xue Ye stood at the end of the long end of the basement, facing a heavy and ancient iron door, knocked on the big iron ring, and bent down to check the keyhole.

The structure of this iron gate is much simpler than that of the monastery's basement.If Villar was there, it must be easy to open the lock, she sighed in her heart.

"What are you doing there?"

The shopkeeper held a candle and stood in the direction of the entrance, looked around for a moment, and then ran over with his slippers.The originally forbidden question sounded very funny in Bonita's flat voice.

"Get out. Don't go in there."

When she approached angrily, Xue Ye noticed that not only was her voice hoarse, but her whole body was also covered with large and small wounds.The face, neck and exposed arms were covered with knife marks of different shades, judging by the degree of recovery, such cuts had lasted for at least two years.

"What's in here?"

"It's none of your business. Get out." The female shopkeeper uttered a robot-like command without a command tone, while reaching out to grab Xue Ye's arm.Unexpectedly, she missed it, and Bonita frantically turned around to look for it.There was no one to be seen anywhere.

"I am here."

Bonita threw her neck back in horror, and raised the candlestick with a trembling right hand, illuminating a pair of eyes staring down from the ceiling.

"The thing that cut you is inside this door." The black pupil reflected the purple fire, "What hurt you, let me see, okay?"

The shopkeeper was stunned.

The whole body was light and floating, as if the soul had left the ground and was sucked into those eyes.As if possessed, she shook her hands and took out a bunch of keys from the pocket of her nightdress.The key glowed yellow and seemed to be made of brass.

"That's right, it's it It should be shown to you, it's the one that hurt me."

The girl smiled with satisfaction under the cloak, fell from the ceiling to the ground, and entered the door with the owner.

There was no light inside the door, and there was a chill, reminiscent of a dark night without moonlight or stars.Bonita came to the center of the room with a candlestick.On the square stone table, lay a pair of rare long knives. On the mirror-like knife surface, purple candle flames danced endlessly.

Xue Ye stood leaning against the wall by the door, curiosity and grasping light burst out from the depths of her black eyes.If you look at it with "condensation", the whole body of the knife is covered with a thin layer of thoughts, and this layer of thoughts is about to move, as if to absorb more "qi" from the surroundings.

"This is……"

Bonita put the candlestick on the stone table, supported the two corners of the square with both hands, moved her eyes from the tip of the knife to the protruding hook on the blade, then moved up the blade to the handle, and finally stopped at the link connecting the two knives. On the third quarter.The third section is about the same length as the blade.

"My husband's last work, the three-section gun 'Chun Weng'."

In this dark secret room, Bonita's voice became a little more animated.

"Double swords made to commemorate the tenth anniversary of marriage." She brushed the broken hair hanging from her forehead behind her ears, "It is the crystallization of the two of us. I sing, and he condenses the 'Qi' in my singing on the blade among."

Xue Ye opened her eyes wide: "Your husband has..."

Bonita bent her right leg and tapped her toes on the ground.

"died."

"……sorry."

The female shopkeeper looked at her in surprise: "What are you apologizing for? You came from outside." The implication is that Xue Ye is not a resident of Meteor Street.

Before Xue Ye could answer, Bonita said again: "Later, I got seriously ill and my voice was ruined. I couldn't sing anymore. Without my songs, he couldn't play new works anymore. He hired someone from outside. Some girls sing for him, no use. Only mine. He can't live without me."

At this time, the face of the female shopkeeper seemed to soften under the light of the fire, and her voice became younger.

"He was depressed all day long, and drank his sorrows with 'chunweng'. The business in the store could not continue, and he could only barely support it by selling some cheap goods."

Xue Ye blinked and shook her head.Bonita, who was haggard at first and looked at least 40 or 20 years old, turned into a beautiful young woman in her early [-]s!No, something deviated from reality.She tried to move her body, but couldn't move.

"I hope he cheers up, so I use this 'violet light' to turn back time and let him take comfort in fond memories."

Bonita's voice is getting younger and more rounded and melodious.She sang, in a mournful and long voice:

"

Clueless Johnny wants to be a knifemaker,

Be it, in the violet's sweet dreams;

He invited the old man of spring,

wants to be his son.

Clueless Johnny demanded singing,

Hear, in violet's sweet dreams;

He cut off the vocal cords of girls,

Then order them to sing to their heart's content.

Clueless Johnny trying to feed his father,

He cut his wife forty times.

When he realized what he had done,

He cut his daughter 41 times.

Clueless Johnny is dead,

His fingers are nowhere to be found,

There is no way to put it in the grave.

His head rolled far under the bed;

his legs and arms,

Litter all over the room.

Clever Bonita wants to feed her father,

Eat, in the violet's sweet dreams;

I will be my father's daughter,

Prepare the tastiest dinner party ever.

"

Xue Ye suddenly opened his eyes, took out a knife and stabbed it into his right leg.Hit by the dull pain blurred by hallucinatory substances, his consciousness is somewhat clear, but his head is still as heavy as lead, and even the touch of blood gushing out is paralyzed.She leaned against the wall and slid down, the black pupils gradually closing reflected the dancing purple candlelight.

"Spring Weng" left the stone case in a creaky manner.The melodious voice of the woman siren, seems to come from the tower of the other world——

"

You, Nobunaga's friend,

Since he is not from Meteor Street,

Why set foot on the land of Meteor Street?

you, beautiful maiden,

Sleep, in the violet's sweet dreams;

When you wake up, you will be the scene of your dreams.

"

Before consciousness sank into complete darkness, Xue Ye stared at the twisted and deformed face, her voice was almost inaudible like an air current:

"go to hell."