"What?!"
Looking at Acheron, who had appeared from who-knew-where, Boothill looked shocked.
Then he turned his head toward Black Swan.
He had imagined what it would be like to exchange information with this Memokeeper, but he had never imagined that he would meet Acheron in this way.
One of Boothill's hands reached for his gun, and instinctively, he wanted to put a bullet into both Acheron and Black Swan.
But in the end, he did not act, and besides, this was the Astral Express. It would not be appropriate to start fighting here.
It was not that Boothill had become polite. He simply had a feeling that if he started a fight on the train, he would probably be thrown off it together with his gun.
He did not know exactly where this intuition came from, but as a cowboy, trusting one's instincts was a very common thing. Rather, what was called intuition was also one of a cowboy's survival skills.
But Boothill still angrily said to Black Swan, "Damn it, you from the Garden of Recollection, you sold me out?!"
"Sorry, this was my request."
Before Black Swan could speak, Acheron stepped forward and politely apologized first. If she had also put an apologetic expression on that calm face of hers, it would have looked even more convincing.
"For some reason, I was exiled from Penacony. Fortunately, this Memokeeper accompanied me the entire way, giving me the chance to quietly escape the Family's control."
Hearing how nicely Acheron put it, Black Swan showed a subtle smile and explained, "Actually, it wasn't accompanying you. It was following you. And the process could hardly be called quiet... But forget it, I'll go along with your wording."
"I asked her to take me somewhere outside the Family's sight and contact several people I could trust," Acheron continued. "That would be all of you."
"Trust?" Boothill could not help laughing. "Haha, hahahaha... Little cutie, do you take me for a lunatic or an idiot?"
As he spoke, Boothill drew his gun and pointed it at Acheron. "How about this? Let me put a few holes in you first and see what's hiding inside, then we'll talk about trust..."
"No need for that. I will tell you everything you want to know, but not now... If my identity had not been exposed, perhaps we would have had more time, but right now, this is the only way we can proceed."
Even with a gun pointed at her, Acheron remained very calm. Apart from the influence of the Path, this confidence also came from her strength.
"The only way? The only way to do what?" Boothill asked.
"Only this way can I guarantee your safety... Please have the Astral Express jump immediately and leave the Asdana system."
Acheron made her request, but in the end, she still did not explain why, as if the purple-skinned egg and yellow sponge had made some shady deal.
Dan Heng frowned.
Pom-Pom blinked. "What this passenger means is..."
"In my opinion, she means no harm, and she is telling the truth," Black Swan said.
Acheron looked at Dan Heng. "Mr. Dan Heng, I once traveled with your companions for a short time, and I also know where they are. Please believe that the Nameless are still safe, but they likewise need our help."
After saying that, she looked at Boothill. "And Mr. Boothill, you may have already guessed... I was waiting for your arrival. The Galaxy Rangers are difficult to track, and you rarely communicate with one another. Forgive me for only being able to contact you in this way."
"Only this way could I find the real Galaxy Ranger. And only this way could I fulfill a promise from long ago... returning his belongings to their rightful owner."
While the others were talking, Pom-Pom stood in the corner, looking somewhat conflicted.
The cute conductor frowned, then his expression became resolute, and he muttered to himself, "How could I abandon the passengers and just drive the train away?"
"I didn't become conductor just because I'm cute, Pom."
The little conductor seemed eager to do something, having thought of some "wonderful" things.
He gently stroked the seat of the sofa and muttered to himself, "Old friend, run another round with me. No matter what, even if we crash straight into Penacony, we have to bring the passengers back."
Just as he said this, a red shadow suddenly pounced over. Little Aha's tail pressed down on Pom-Pom's hand as he said, "Forget it, forget it. Let's watch first. Brother Pom, it's not necessary. Really, it's not necessary..."
So Pom-Pom blinked, then glanced to the side.
Although the train was precious, there were some things that, if you did not do them for too long, you would really start missing them. It was easy to get itchy hands.
"Someone once told me that every rain is the heavens' pity for the world."
"Rain and dew are the tears of gods, flowing down because of the sorrow of mankind. But precisely because they still fall, it means that the gods have not yet lost hope in this world."
"So..."
On the other side, Acheron slowly began to speak, starting to tell a story, an experience of her own. Everyone listened to this experience, and not a single person noticed what the conductor and Cat Cake were doing in the corner.
———
A pitch-black celestial body occupied the gloomy, cloud-covered sky. It looked so viscous, dripping downward while continuously sticking together.
Only faint traces of light were hidden among the clouds, giving this world some brightness and allowing a few things to be seen.
Before them was a pitch-black, viscous sea. Countless shadows struggled and rose and fell among the waves. Countless withered arms reaching upward were like branches stripped bare of their leaves.
Rain was still falling. On the desolate shore, Acheron held up a red umbrella, while beside her was an old man wearing a bamboo hat and a straw raincoat.
"How long has this rain lasted?" Acheron suddenly asked.
"I once hoped, just like you, that it would stop someday. A few years passed, then a few decades... In the end, hope reached its end even earlier than this rain."
The old man sighed. "It seems the god you speak of does not exist."
As he said this, the old man's gaze remained fixed on the distance.
In the fine black rain, countless vague shadows of hands, shifting like swirling smoke, reached out one by one from the surface of the sea toward the sky.
"Let me tell you a story instead," the old man suddenly said.
He did not ask whether Acheron agreed and simply began speaking on his own, "Mortals walking upon a Path are like riding a small boat across sleep, leaving behind a winding trace and pushing aside ripples of countless possibilities. Compared with the fleeting lives of humans, these waves take a long time to settle."
"And among them are some people whose traces are too strong, so strong that they leave their own reflections among these clusters of spray."
"Just like... those shadows on the sea," Acheron murmured.
"Bloodhound spirits..." the old man said a term. "The obsessions of Pathstriders. They are born from the shadow of IX, regard themselves as the ones in question, and unknowingly repeat the actions they performed in life."
"They are born from nothingness and head toward nothingness, spending a completely meaningless life. Yet this group of empty phantoms... were once important companions of mine, a group of Galaxy Rangers."
"Are you watching over them?" Acheron asked.
"Watching over them?" The old man shook his head. "No. I am helping them pass on."
"It was a brutal war, a campaign that shook the entire universe. The cosmos witnessed the fall of the Lord Ravager Zulo, but the price... apart from those who experienced it themselves, no one would remember the price."
"The Hunt's will to die will not cease until life itself ends, so someone must always be here to guide these dead souls. They were heroes in life, and after death, they should not become puppets of nothingness."
"As for me... I also lost too much on that battlefield and can no longer embark on another journey. Instead, I became the person most suited to completing this task."
"But you know that these bloodhound spirits... after all, they aren't them," Acheron said.
"In your eyes, is there no meaning to this?" the old man asked, but soon continued, "But some things, even if they have no meaning, still have to be done."
"...I can help you." After remaining silent for a while, Acheron suddenly spoke.
"For what?"
"The meaning of nothingness... That is also what I seek."
"...Indeed. How could an ordinary person possibly set foot here?" the old man murmured. "Thank you, stranger. I hope you find the answer on this journey."
"Before that, I have one more question..." Acheron said. "Indeed, the actions of the bloodhound spirits, even their entire lives, are meaningless from our perspective. But if, I mean if... if this is precisely the outcome the dead wished for, should we still make them change?"
"That is a good question, and also a difficult one to answer... At least, I don't know the answer," the old man replied. "But what I do know is that one day, I too will pass away. From the bottom of my heart, I hope that when that time comes... someone will also place a bouquet of flowers before my grave."
———
[Nine System Hours Before The Opening Of The Charmony Festival]
'When I was a child, my speech was like a child's, my thoughts were like a child's, and my mind was like a child's.'
'When I became a man, I cast aside the things of a child.'
In his memories, golden light passed through the window lattice and shone upon him, while a servant of the Halovian race knelt before him.
"Please grant me your blessing, honored representative of Xipe."
His voice was so full of pleading that he responded, "Come forward, family. I have asked Them to be with us." Sunday remembered answering that way.
"I will obey your will," he replied, and confessed, "I have served the Alfalfa Family for nearly ten years. I have always worked diligently and seriously, never been lazy, and regarded sharing in the Charmony as the highest good."
"Yet yesterday, I made a mistake. While preparing dinner for the family head, I accidentally knocked the food onto the floor."
"Out of negligence, I falsely claimed that everything had been arranged properly. Although the family head dismissed me as punishment, I am still unable to eat or sleep peacefully, worried that the seed of evil will take root in my heart. I have come to confess to you and seek to make up for my sin."
"Do you truly regret this in your heart and resolve to correct your ways?"
"I swear."
"Have you examined yourself carefully and confessed all your sins clearly?"
"I swear."
"Are you willing to put it into practice and accept penance?"
"I swear."
"Very good. Show enthusiasm toward the other family members and diligently perform good deeds. In this way, you can reconcile with the family. Go back in peace."
"Praise Xipe. And thank you as well, honored representative."
And so the Halovian left.
In Sunday's memories, there was a period of time when things like this happened every moment. After listening, he would always say, "...Please let the next person come forward."
"I, I sincerely confess to you with all my heart... Please forgive me!" This was a flustered Dreamchaser.
"Please put your mind at ease. I have asked Them to be with us. As long as you are honest and kind at heart, you will certainly receive forgiveness."
"Oh! Oh, okay... Actually, I came to Penacony illegally. In order to buy a ticket, I sold everything my family could sell, the house, the land... and, my two children..."
"Mm... Please continue."
"If they continued following me, they would definitely starve to death. At least as slaves, they could get enough food to eat. If, if I make it here, I'll immediately go redeem them and raise them properly until they grow up..."
"B-but then I was discovered by the Hound Family. They're searching for me everywhere... I even wanted to bring the children here! It's all my fault, all my fault..."
"The Family is willing to accept everyone. I will tell the Hound Family to stop the search. From now on, you no longer need to live in fear."
"Thank you, thank you! I'll work hard and try to redeem the children as soon as possible, join the Family, pr... praise the Charmony!"
And so that person left in high spirits.
Sunday remembered that his work at that time was to comfort others and help others... even though he did not know whether those people truly needed comfort or truly needed help, even though he knew that some people did not need comfort and were not worthy of help.
He simply said after that person left, "...Please let the next person come forward."
This time, the person who came forward was a Pepeshi merchant, "Long time no see, the most famous man in Penacony, the next head of the Oak Family... Mr. Sunday?"
There was no respect in his voice, only mockery.
"...I have asked Them to be with us. We can begin."
"Fine. Let's follow the prescribed process. Cough, cough! I made a mistake. Please forgive my sin, I wasted half a pizza at breakfast... and a bottle of SoulGlad."
"That is all. Nothing else. Don't you have some words you need to recite? Hurry up, I'm in a rush to watch the jumbotron ball game."
"Are you... willing to make amends through good deeds to repay the punishment you should have received?"
"Punishment for sins? Starting to play the saint, huh? Ha? Let me tell you, the Family has no right to judge me, and neither do you."
"Who doesn't know about your family's affairs? Forgotten the Watchmaker? Get lost, you chicken-wing head. I'm not buying any of this from you. The Dreamchasers may eat it up, but don't fool yourself too."
"From now on, before reciting those scriptures, think carefully... How did the Oak Family obtain its position today? How did you manage to sit here, well-fed and well-clothed, high above everyone else, looking down on all of them? What exactly did you rely on?"
"Is the time for today's confession enough for me to get into the Charmony Park? Then I'm leaving. Hope you get elected successfully. Hmph... Don't make me lose money."
There were always some people who thought they had figured out the rules and thrived within the system. They lacked faith, lacked respect, and lacked empathy.
They were best at acting as though they did not care about anything, borrowing the tiger's skin to place themselves high above others, as if everything before them were beneath notice, yet they never looked at themselves.
Their bodies and souls, hidden away by themselves, were just as filthy and full of holes as this family's system.
Sunday merely remained silent, in a long silence, and then said, "...Please let the next person come forward."
'O soul with three faces, please listen to my question...'
'If the power, wealth, and status of the strong can cover up their crimes, who can pass judgment upon them?'
'If the weak must pay any price to continue living, who can vouch for them?'
'If even the purest and kindest souls can make mistakes, who can comfort them?'
'If "helping the weak with the strength of the strong" truly is the foundation of the paradise...'
'Then who is it that leaves them behind to cry out in suffering in the human world?'
Another dreamlike emergence came, and the memories of the past appeared in bizarre, multicolored hues. Everything crashed through his mind until Robin's voice woke him.
Only then did Sunday realize that he had once again completed his passage through the dreamscape and had now arrived at the Golden Hour.
"Brother... Brother...? Brother... are you okay?"
Looking at his sister's worried gaze, Sunday shook his head and forced a smile onto the corners of his mouth.
"...I'm fine. Maybe I've been working for too long, and after returning from the Reverie, I'm a little unaccustomed to it. I should be fine after a while."
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