Endless Debt

Bologue rolled up his sleeves and glanced at his watch. The watch looked tattered, yet the hands on the dial were running steadily.

Thanks to his precise training with Secret Energy in the past, Bologue not only became more adept at handling Secret Energy, but also turned into an Entry Level watchmaker.

Using the Summoning Hand, it didn't take Bologue long to repair the watch. In this eerie place, surrounded by endless darkness, the dim light above was merely decorative.

Bologue needed this watch to gauge the passage of time. After some rough calculations, it should be the fifth day since Bologue fell into the Great Rift.

Aimou's mental state seemed poor; although she couldn't make expressions and her tone was monotonous, Bologue could just sense it.

Bologue thought it must be the oppressive environment and being in the company of his corpse for three days that left a lasting impression on Aimou.

This was something Bologue didn't know how to handle. Although he was an expert, he wasn't a psychological expert.

Unlike Aimou, the oppressive environment didn't affect Bologue at all. To avoid a dead silence, he would hum songs from time to time.

Humming songs in such a dark and deep ghostly place.

"Did you adapt so quickly?" Aimou said, "We are now at the bottom of the Great Rift."

"That's how experts are."

Facing Aimou's question, Bologue answered confidently.

The dark oppression indeed didn't affect Bologue. Back in the Black Prison, he had grown accustomed to all of this, but it was truly a bad memory. Unless necessary, Bologue rarely mentioned it to others, even excluding Aimou.

Marching forward, forward, constantly moving forward.

Aside from chatting with Aimou to maintain her mental state, during the two days since waking up, Bologue kept up the hard survival effort.

He had read many wilderness survival stories, but those unfortunate souls in the wilderness more or less saw some living things, managed to make tools, hunt animals to fill their stomachs, or at least gnaw on tree bark.

Yet in Bologue's situation, after two days of survival, not to mention living things, apart from rocks, he hadn't seen anything else.

Hunger gnawed at Bologue, but fortunately, being an Undead, he did not fear dying of hunger, and the power of Condensation made his physique much stronger than that of ordinary people.

However, the troubling part was being in an Ether vacuum.

When informed by Aimou that this place was an Ether vacuum, Bologue felt disbelief, thinking it was merely some unknown factor causing a small region to be in Ether vacuum.

But after two days, still not having walked out of the Ether vacuum zone, Bologue couldn't help but suspect that the entire bottom of the Great Rift might be in such a condition.

Hence, Ether became a scarce resource, and Bologue had to conserve his Ether for emergencies, which ruined the plan to climb out of the rock walls.

Based on Bologue's Ether reserve, the complex situation of the Great Rift, and the damn depth, in his current state, he couldn't climb up.

Realizing these issues, Bologue also noticed the slow revival rate of himself might be due to the Ether vacuum.

Unable to absorb Ether from the environment, Bologue relied on his remaining Ether reserve to slowly heal wounds, revive consciousness.

In other words, if he died multiple times in the Great Rift, Bologue might never wake up again.

"This reminds me of my days as a soldier."

Bologue cautiously moved forward in the dimness, he and Aimou were deep in a narrow rift, unsure if they could walk out.

"What's the matter?" Aimou asked.

"At that time, our camp was ambushed by enemies. I barely managed to escape into the dense forest, but the enemy didn't easily let us go, scouring the forest repeatedly."

Bologue recounted his past story, "Back then it was like this, evading the enemy while figuring out survival in the dense forest."

"The good news is, there are no enemies here, the bad news is, this isn't a forest, with no animals to eat, not even bark to gnaw." Bologue joked, trying to dispel the deep coldness.

"I don't need to eat," Aimou said, "I can lighten the burden."

"Yes, you don't need to, and I don't really need to... not much for now."

That was Bologue's saving grace, falling down with him was Aimou, who didn't need food or water, only some Ether to stay healthy.

If it had been Palmer falling with him, that guy would have complained endlessly, dragging both their spirits to the bottom.

But then, who knows, after all Palmer had his Blessing, if Palmer shouted "Boss, help," maybe the Crimson Queen would extend a helping hand, pulling himself out along the way.

Sometimes Bologue rather believed in Palmer's luck; once it kicked in, it was unbelievably strong.

"How long can your Ether reserve last?" Bologue asked with concern.

In the Ether vacuum environment, Aimou wasn't doing well either. Her operation depended on the power scattered by the Philosopher's Stone, driving the Constant Motion Core and further absorbing surrounding Ether in this cycle.

Now, Ether was unavailable around her, and Aimou's cycle was broken. Once her Ether was consumed, Bologue was unsure what would happen to Aimou.

"Luckily, although there's no ether outside, I have a device that reserves ether within myself," Aimou said.

"Like a backup energy source?" Bologue's eyes lit up when he heard this.

Another reason Bologue felt the situation wasn't so dire was because he still had a stock of Soul Shards on him. These pure ethers would turn the tide at crucial moments.

"Pretty much, it's designed for emergencies. With this ether, I can hold out for a long time," Aimou said as she glanced at her limbs, "If necessary, I can disassemble myself to reduce ether consumption."

"Disassemble? Like what?"

"Like taking apart the limbs," Aimou slowly raised her hands. Her limbs surged with ether, "Removing unimportant devices and structures on the torso, even retaining only the Constant Motion Core and the head."

Aimou spoke of such horrifying things very rationally, and Bologue's expression was somewhat complex. To disassemble herself cleanly seemed to be a normal thing for Aimou.

"No, no, do I tie your head to my waist and find a way to escape?" Bologue shook his head, "Let's forget about that."

"This is the optimal solution; it can greatly reduce my consumption."

Aimou didn't understand. She had considered these possibilities during the design phase, and was merely applying her designs now.

Bologue didn't say much more. He clearly realized that there remained a perception gap between himself and Aimou.

Aimou had perceptions similar to humans, but when these perceptions applied to herself, they became a vision unique to an Alchemy Puppet.

Like disassembling herself completely, retaining only essential structures.

Bologue felt this was a bit... off, but after realizing it felt off, he recalled himself.

Normal people wouldn't risk themselves, but Bologue, boasting his Undying Body, could die repeatedly. From this perspective, when Bologue's concepts applied to himself, they became quite odd too.

"Are we freaks?"

Bologue muttered to himself. Both he and Aimou overlapped with normal human ideas, but the parts that didn't overlap were extremely bizarre.

The narrow rift gradually widened. As Bologue advanced, he reached out to explore his surroundings. In the dim light, his visibility was pitifully small.

The rock was hard and cold, covered with a thin layer of ice. With each breath, Bologue exhaled a plume of white mist.

The temperature here was very low, but the power of the Undying Body allowed Bologue to withstand frostbite. However, this constant injury and healing felt like a long, never-ending torture to Bologue.

Aimou didn't feel too bad. She had actively shut down her perceptive abilities. As a cold steel shell, the fierce cold only made her joints a bit stiff.

"Bologue!"

Aimou suddenly stopped Bologue and then asked, "How is your stamina?"

"Quite good," Bologue said, clenching his fist. "Even with the situation this bad, I've got enough strength to beat a few people to death with my bare hands."

Bologue considered himself an expert, and toughness, focus, and endurance were all excellent traits for an expert. Regardless of how dire the situation became, before truly dying, Bologue was always able to extract strength from his body.

"Turn around, bend over."

Aimou commanded. To save ether, she had already shut down all unnecessary functions.

Now she looked like a real puppet, expressionless. Her lips didn't move when speaking; the voice came directly from her throat. The light in her pupils dimmed, carrying a slightly deep sense of emptiness.

"Alright, alright, alright."

Bologue roughly understood what she intended to do.

Aimou clumsily pounced onto Bologue's back, her hands resting on his chest before tightly clasping on.

"To save ether, I will temporarily lose my ability to move. The rest is up to you."

After Aimou spoke, it was as if someone had drained her soul. Her body went limp, heavily resting on Bologue's back, with only a faint gleam remaining in her pupils.

Bologue adjusted Aimou; thankfully, her metallic body had undergone much optimization, and she had replaced much of her material with lightweight metals. She was lighter than anticipated.

"This feels all too familiar." Bologue muttered in a low voice.

"What's wrong?"

Aimou's voice sounded beside his ear. Now she was in absolute energy-saving mode, retaining only communication ability.

"My days in the army, carrying a heavy radio on my back... or possibly a wounded comrade."

Bologue stepped forward into the darkness.

"It's quite amusing to recall the past at times like this."