Chapter 348 - Ornamental Fish

The transparent cylindrical container was located in the center of the room, with silk-like light trails floating in the rolling liquid. It was condensed and liquefied Ether, fully integrated into the Ether, creating an Ether-rich environment.The bluish light permeated everyone around, including Bologue, making him feel as if he had entered an aquarium, with a delicate ornamental fish suspended inside the central cylindrical container.

Bologue wanted to get closer to observe, but found another glass wall obstructing his path; the complex light made Bologue overlook its presence.

"The patient needs rest; it’s better to just observe from here."

Belli wasn’t joking earlier; as Aimou’s attending physician, her advice was indeed for rest.

Bologue nodded, then looked at the shattered body inside the container.

Using the term ornamental fish to describe Aimou, Bologue felt there was no issue, as Aimou indeed appeared like a fish immersed in the liquid at that moment.

Unlike the pitiful appearance in his memory, under Belli’s emergency repairs, Aimou’s body has been restored to the position of the abdominal cavity, although still in a half-body state, much improved from before. At least now, a vague human form can be discerned.

From the severed section of the torso, Bologue could see the intricate mechanical structures inside and the dense cables. The soft gel-like shell was gone, replaced by cold metal armor.

The metal spine extended out, connecting numerous floating cables. Bluish micro-glows pulsed through the gaps in the metal, flickering.

Aimou’s face had lost its previous beauty; the shell that mimicked human skin was gone, replaced by a mask-like shell resembling a doll. Her head was bare, with metal weld seams spread across it.

The left eye was extinguished, and the right eye occasionally flickered with micro-glows, indicating Aimou’s normal operation.

In Aimou’s mind and along the spine section on her back, rows of external cables connected to her, eventually bound together and extending to the top of the container.

"Aimou’s injuries are severe. Aside from the Mind Projection and Constant Motion Core—the two critical parts being undamaged—everything else that could be damaged has been damaged extensively."

Belli said, "When I received Aimou, her head had split open... literally ’split open’."

Bologue felt a bit guilty; if he hadn’t taken Aimou on the mission, none of this would’ve happened.

But if Bologue had left Aimou in the Alchemy Workshop, Aimou might have already disappeared with the workshop by now, or even...

"Whew, you almost killed my little apprentice sister. If Aimou had also died, I don’t know if I could still have a little little apprentice sister."

Belli mumbled endlessly on the side, complicating Bologue’s sorrowful emotions.

"Little little apprentice sister?"

Bologue didn’t understand this perplexing title.

"Alice is the apprentice sister, Aimou the little apprentice sister, and another would be the little little apprentice sister. Is there a problem?" Belli retorted.

Bologue shouldn’t have bothered talking to Belli.

"Fortunately, the Sublimation Furnace Core has enough technology to repair Aimou. What you see now is the repair and tuning of the main torso. This is a complex process; we need a long time to set various parameters."

Belli pointed to a nearby isolated area, sparks flying from a small machine bed, with researchers in protective gear directing mechanical arms, continuously polishing metal and assembling them piece by piece.

"You can think of Aimou as an assembly toy; they are currently remanufacturing her limbs. Once the main torso tuning is complete, installation will be straightforward."

Belli explained these complex processes to Bologue.

"Then comes adding protective coatings and some anthropomorphic treatments, oh, and planting hair too. This bare look is really ugly."

Belli thought for a moment and described, "Just like a chick that hasn’t grown feathers—it’s too ugly."

"Does she have consciousness now?" Bologue asked.

"Yes, you see her eyes, the light inside still flickers, indicating Aimou is running stably," Belli said. "But currently she can’t respond to any external stimuli."

"Why?" Bologue didn’t understand.

"To illustrate with humans, Aimou now has lost all senses."

Belli looked at Bologue’s body, from pupils to lips, from ears to skin.

"Like humans, she lost sight, hearing, touch, taste, smell... All abilities to perceive the outside world are blocked. Simultaneously, she herself has lost every means of communicating with the outside."

"You see, essentially she is now just a piece of scrap metal. She can’t speak or perform any motions."

Aimou inside the container resembled a delicate piece of workmanship, unable to react to the outside world except for the flickering light in her eyes, which merely assured that she was running normally.

Contact with the outside was completely isolated; Aimou received no feedback.

"It’s like being locked in a pitch-black prison."

Bologue muttered to himself.

Bologue was very familiar with Belli’s description; he had experienced it when trapped in the silent Black Prison.

But in the dark Black Prison, Bologue could touch himself, hear his own breathing, affirm his existence, yet Aimou couldn’t. All she could feel was pure darkness.

"We still need some time to reload Aimou’s senses. You can’t wait here forever," Belli said.

Bologue understood this. He looked again at Aimou in the container; her once innocent and adorable appearance was gone. Now she was bare, reduced to just her torso, her body slightly curled up like an ugly caterpillar.

"Hmm, I’ll be back later."

After confirming Aimou’s condition, Bologue bid farewell to Belli and left.

Bologue’s thoughts were in disarray, with strange ideas running endlessly. He left the Order Bureau, walking the streets of Lingna District.

In his arms was information regarding his resurrection. The image of Aimou as a caterpillar flashed before him. Walking aimlessly, Bologue stopped and looked up, unknowingly arriving at the Undying Club.

Bologue pushed the door open and went inside. At once, he saw Serey lounging to one side with several bottles in front of him. A certain incense smell lingered in the air, and Wei’Er was curled up on the bar, forming an indistinct lump that was hard to distinguish without attention.

"You’re drinking even in broad daylight?" Bologue couldn’t help but comment, looking at Serey in a drunken state.

"Nope, actually, I started drinking since last night," Serey raised an eyebrow at Bologue, "I just got rid of those clingy folks."

"I can smell it; this perfume is too strong."

Bologue nodded, recalling the events. Serey brought women back to the Undying Club last night and drank together until now. Not long ago, the women left, leaving Serey slumped to one side, his gaze a bit unfocused.

It’s pretty normal, at least for Serey. It was part of his daily life, taking advantage of his status as an Undead, joyfully swimming in alcohol’s ocean.

Bologue looked forward to him drowning one day.

Sitting at the bar, Serey rose and went behind the counter, facing Bologue as a bartender.

"Yo! Bologue!"

Wei’Er caught Bologue’s scent and woke up, rubbing against him and leaving black cat fur on Bologue’s clothes.

The Undying Club remained as welcoming as always, but luckily Bologue was already accustomed to this.

Serey pushed over a glass of orange juice. Bologue took a sip, feeling a bit more refreshed.

"Is there a free room here?"

"You decided to stay here?" Serey’s eyes lit up.

"Not really, just temporarily."

Bologue’s place was just too far away. With Palmer hospitalized, there was no one to ride him back and forth, and his mind was in turmoil alongside the resurrection information in his jacket.

All this left Bologue exhausted, so he decided to rest at the Undying Club for a while; these folks always managed to cheer him up with strange antics, killing two birds with one stone.

Yet two other reasons made Bologue decide to come here. First, the Undying Club was very safe. Although these Undead were each more unpredictable than the last, they were all ancient monsters who’s lived countless years, discernible from the Order Bureau’s attitude towards them.

And the other reason was...

"Serey, after the Dawn War, did all your Night Race die off?"

"No, most of us died. The remaining ones were confined in the Land of Eternal Night. What’s up?"

"So, besides you, other Night Race members should be indefinitely in the Land of Eternal Night, unable to leave, right?"

"Yes."

Serey completely overlooked Bologue’s change of expression. He even jumped from behind the bar, grabbing a glass to toast with Bologue.

"You’ve made sure that only you are outside?"

Bologue coldly stared at Serey, making him feel uneasy.

"Wh... what’s going on?"

Serey tried hard to recall related matters. Unfortunately, his mind was nearly poisoned by alcohol, failing to think of anything.

"Have you heard this name?"

Bologue observed Serey’s expression, then slowly said.

"Olivia Villeries."

Poof—

Upon hearing the name, Serey uncontrollably spewed out all his drink like a shower head, drenching Bologue.

Bologue wasn’t too surprised; he was used to all this. Silently, he took a tissue, wiped his face, and calmly spoke.

"It seems you know her, right?"

Serey swallowed hard. His gaze wandered nervously, the old monster who’d lived for who knows how long, trembling before Bologue’s eyes.