CHAPTER 369: CHAPTER 146 NAIVETY

"Evening? A party?"

Aimou looked confused, clearly not quite grasping what a "party" meant.

"You could understand it as a group of people gathering for some strange reason to celebrate some strange things, but it’s always a very joyful scene."

Bologue explained to Aimou as he understood it. All this time, he had hardly participated in any parties of the Undying Club, mainly because every time these lunatics partied too wildly for Bologue to handle.

But there was one good thing they did, which was making the scene genuinely joyful. Even someone as serious as Bologue could barely hold back a smile when he saw Serey’s acrobatics on the pole.

"They’re kind of... some of my friends, all Undead, and they’re very interested in you. I think you might be interested in them too, right?" Bologue continued.

"Undead? A group of Undead?" Aimou repeated, the halo in her eyes slightly expanding.

She was already shocked to have met Bologue, an Undead, but from what Bologue described, he wasn’t the only Undead in Opus; there was a large group of them.

Since when did Undead become so commonplace, found everywhere?

"They’re also quite interested in you, want to meet you, and maybe they could help solve some issues for you, like... the part about Alice."

Every time Alice was mentioned, Bologue felt a slight unease.

Once someone is dead, that’s it, nothing more. Yet Aimou could see and talk to Alice’s apparition. Instinctively, Bologue felt this matter wasn’t so simple.

In their conversations, Aimou, however, stated that everything was normal.

Bologue trusted Aimou, believing she wouldn’t deceive him, yet he still felt that it wasn’t that simple...

"Aimou? Come on, time to work!"

The two hadn’t talked long before Belli’s voice came through.

Currently, Aimou was interning in the Sublimation Furnace Core... as Belli’s assistant.

"Finally, some peace to do my own things." Balder was very grateful for Aimou’s arrival.

Spending just a few minutes with Belli already made Bologue feel discomfort, and he wondered how Balder endured all these years. When he asked Balder, Balder simply replied.

"You get used to it."

Such a simple statement, yet it hid so much bitterness and tears, Bologue no longer knew what to say.

"Alright, I’ll pick you up in the evening." Bologue arranged a time with Aimou.

...

"I really can’t bear to leave all of you, but as you know, as an excellent field staff member, I will eventually return to the battlefield."

At the Border Sanatorium subway platform, Palmer bid a sentimental farewell to the nurses who had cared for him, expressing his gratitude deeply.

"Thank you all so much."

Palmer bowed deeply, almost tearing up.

After being away from home for so long, he rarely felt such human warmth here. If it weren’t for Lebius’s message that he would automatically be dismissed if he didn’t return to work soon, Palmer would have loved to stay a bit longer.

"Everyone! I will remember you! As long as I don’t die out there, we will meet again one day."

The subway roared, stopping behind Palmer. He waved to the nurses who had come to see him off and, with reluctance, boarded the carriage.

Despite returning to work, Palmer looked as if he were heading to Hell. Considering the nature of his job, it wasn’t entirely wrong to say so.

The nurses maintained their signature smiles, waving to Palmer through the train window until the doors closed, and the subway headed towards the Cultivation Room. Then their faces gradually stiffened and crumbled.

"Ah... finally got this guy sent off."

"This guy is so childish, it felt like I was taking care of a kid these past few days."

"Do all the field staff behave like this now? How is the Field Operations Department hiring people?"

Out of professional ethics, every nurse showed enough patience while taking care of Palmer, but the more patient and tolerant they were, the more reckless Palmer became.

Palmer didn’t do anything excessive; it’s just that his incredibly childish behavior piled up, inevitably frustrating the nurses.

"Actually... I think he’s okay, though he seems childish, you could also see it as innocence, right?"

One nurse said quietly, and the others paused, recalling their recent experiences with Palmer.

This guy frantically tried to please the nurses, leading them to suspect he was up to something illegal, only for it to be him getting a few tapes. Or at night, he mysteriously messed around, and when the nurses kicked the door open, they found him diluting medical alcohol, exploring if he could make a drinkable alcohol mix.

After a brief thought, the nurses collectively agreed that Palmer wasn’t a bad person, just a bit lacking in sense.

And then he recalled the rumors about Palmer. It’s said that he used to be a normal person, even the Employee of the Year in the Field Operations Department. But during a later mission, there was an accident that injured his brain, causing him to become despondent. Even his family severed ties with him. Truly, he’s a tragic figure...

Of course, Palmer couldn’t hear these discussions behind his back. He was still figuring out what to do next.

Palmer could have been discharged several days ago, but he stalled with various excuses, lying motionless in the Border Sanatorium until Lebius finally couldn’t stand it anymore and issued an ultimatum. Only then did he reluctantly pack his belongings and return to the Cultivation Room.

Given the current situation, Palmer’s return was just to meet Lebius; there shouldn’t be any tasks assigned to him for now.

Indeed, as Palmer imagined, the Sixth Group is tracking Teda, and until new developments arise, the Special Operations Group is quite idle.

"Does that mean I can go straight home?"

In the office, Palmer hesitated for a moment before speaking to Lebius.

"Theoretically, yes," Lebius replied without looking up.

"What do you mean, theoretically?"

Palmer didn’t understand. Then he saw Lebius pointing to a pile of documents nearby, saying, "Yuriel is on leave today. You help me organize these files."

"Isn’t that...not good, Chief?" Palmer didn’t want to work. "I’m a Field Staff; I can’t do clerical tasks."

"By approval, you should’ve reported to the Cultivation Room days ago, but you came back only today... Can I consider you absent without cause?"

Lebius hit the nail on the head, leaving Palmer speechless. Then... he said nothing and quietly started sorting the files on the desk.

Serving tea, fetching water, sweeping floors, giving massages.

Just hours ago, Palmer was living like royalty in the Border Sanatorium, meticulously cared for by nurses. After returning to the Cultivation Room, he became a subordinate, being ordered around by Lebius.

The drastic contrast stirred Palmer’s emotions, but he had no other choice. Since the Clarks family cut off Palmer’s allowance, his only source of income was his salary from the Field Operations Department. If that too disappeared, he’d have no option but to turn to Serey.

Palmer knew well that his relationship with Serey was superficial; if he really sought refuge there, and his family found out, he could never return to the Wind Source Highlands.

Busy until nightfall, Lebius finally let Palmer go. Exhausted, Palmer walked out onto the street from the Order Bureau.

On the brightly lit streets, Palmer wandered alone. Thinking about his situation, he suddenly felt a pang of sadness.

Ever since becoming a debtor, misfortune has clung to Palmer. His former good partner, Church, had abandoned him. He finally welcomed Bologue, who wouldn’t die, but Bologue’s focus was all on Aimou.

During moments like these, Palmer consoled himself, at least he still had a fiancée... a fiancée who only appeared over the phone.

Palmer suddenly felt his life was a failure. Overwhelmed by sorrow, like a stray dog, he wandered aimlessly through the streets, walking until he found himself at the entrance of the Undying Club.

Looking up at the familiar sign, Palmer felt a mix of emotions.

Unexpectedly, in the vast Oubos of Oath City, the only place that could accommodate him was the Undying Club. The only one with whom he could drink was the Night Race Lord, Serey Villeries, who had a blood feud with the Clarks family.

Palmer couldn’t help but feel the mockery of fate. Yet in the face of this harsh reality, who actually cares?

Remembering the fine wines in the cellar, Palmer pushed the door open and entered. Inside, he saw the Undying Club decked out with decorations, tables piled high with drinks, reminiscent of the welcome party Serey threw for him and Bologue on their first visit.

Wait, a party?

Between balloons and streamers, a banner hung above the bar with faintly visible words of welcome.

Palmer’s heart was touched.

Turning to see the busy Serey, who was fiddling with something by the dome jukebox, Serey then noticed Palmer. Before Serey could say anything, Palmer gave Serey a big hug.

"Didn’t expect it, didn’t expect an undead to care about me this much!" Palmer exclaimed tearfully.

True to the saying about rowdy friends, at such times, only Serey would celebrate his discharge.

Palmer’s enthusiasm was a bit overwhelming for Serey, who quickly seemed to realize something and appeared conflicted.

"Serey, you are my true brother!" Palmer shouted.

But the anticipated response didn’t come. Palmer looked suspiciously at Serey, while Serey uncharacteristically turned his head to avoid Palmer’s gaze.

Palmer awkwardly released Serey and looked at the surroundings, "Is this welcome party prepared for me?"

Serey said nothing.

"Is... it?" Palmer cautiously asked.

Just then, a few balloons bumped and moved aside, revealing the words beneath the banner.

"Welcome new friend Aimou..."