The gifts possessed by debtors often do not provide evident enhancements to them. Some are given by the Devil as a form of malicious amusement, such as Palmer's "Gambler," while others fulfill certain desires, like Aimou's "Doppelganger."

Aimou's situation is even more special than the debtors. To be precise, she is merely the beneficiary of the debt, while Teda has already repaid it for her. Combined with Aimou's true nature as an Alchemy Puppet, this makes her difficult to categorize, and in the end, the Order Bureau decided to simply regard her as a debtor.

A debtor without debt.

Under the influence of the Blessing·Doppelganger, Aimou possesses two forms that can overlap. For the recent important work, Aimou has been in the state of an Alchemy Puppet, her mechanical body making her tireless and imbuing her with all sorts of traits of an Alchemy Puppet.

"What should we do?"

Looking at Belli's serious expression, Aimou knew something was wrong, and she was extremely tense.

Her gaze shifted back and forth between Belli and Bologue's faces, causing even her pupils to slightly glow. The halo within them quivered and deformed, symbolizing Aimou's complex emotions.

Belli furrowed her brows; even without looking at Aimou, she could sense Aimou's agitation because Aimou was simply too noisy.

Amidst excessive worry and tension, a mechanical hum faintly whispered beneath Aimou's frame, resembling a washing machine running at full capacity.

Belli lowered her head, arms crossed, biting her fingernails.

"The Lost phenomenon" is indeed too bizarre, and it is connected to the Secret Source, which is a mystery completely shrouded in mist for all alchemists.

After thinking for over a dozen seconds, Belli contemplated all possibilities, ultimately negating them one by one.

This matter has surpassed Belli's control.

"This is truly a terrible timing, the ascension ceremony is a soul interference, and now Bologue is undoubtedly at his most fragile state, yet he has faced the 'Lost phenomenon'..."

Belli slowly lifted her head, looking towards the darkness above, where aside from the dome's light, there was the only dim light source.

A window glowing in the darkness.

Belli grabbed the communicator and said to the elders behind the observation window, "Everybody, you've been watching for so long, it's time to do something."

Belli never doubted her talent and skill, but she had to occasionally acknowledge that even though she could surpass those old geezers in these aspects, there were still things she couldn't overcome.

Experience.

The alchemists in the Scholars' Hall are considered living fossils of the Order Bureau; they witnessed its rise and have driven the research on the Secret Source.

In their long lives, these alchemists have seen all kinds of oddities and experienced numerous Extraordinary Disasters. Compared to them, Belli is still too young.

This is the first encounter with the "Lost phenomenon" for Belli and the Sublimation Furnace Core department in recent years. It's unknown whether it was deliberately obscured or is actually the case, as there is no official record of handling the "Lost phenomenon", only rumors circulated among people.

Belli believes they must have a method to deal with it.

Even if they don't, they should have one.

Aimou also looked towards the observation window; within that glowing window, she could see shadowy figures, like the dead isolated beyond the worldly dust, observing the affairs of the living.

After a long pause, a response echoed, an aged voice answering.

"Continue."

Belli tightly gripped the communicator. Although she was the minister, her authority was equal to these ancient scholars and was even subtly suppressed by them. She couldn't refute anything and could only watch the sleeping Bologue, continuing the ceremony and waiting for him to awake.

Aimou anxiously watched Bologue, the golden liquid completely permeated his body, and the few scattered light trails became robust like growing vines, with finer curved lines stretching outward from the main ones, extending from Bologue's arms to his chest, covering most of his back.

Gradually, the high-pitched ether subsided peacefully, and the surrounding restless instruments also quieted down. Belli knew the ascension ceremony had successfully concluded, but Bologue had yet to awaken.

"I have an idea," said Belli, "I'm not sure what consequences it might have, but right now it seems like the only solution."

Aimou asked, "What's the solution?"

Belli provided the answer with her actions; she lifted her clothes and pulled out a scalpel from the inner lining.

This scalpel wasn't made from Belli's Secret Energy but was a product of the Sublimation Furnace Core, forged entirely from Fine Steel. During medical tasks, it was a practical surgical instrument, while in combat, it was a deadly dagger.

"Let the Time Reversing Axis reset all of this."

Belli had read Bologue's reports and was well aware of his Blessing.

However, there was one thing Belli wasn't entirely certain about: the Time Reversing Axis returns to the most optimal state, and now that Bologue has just completed the ascension ceremony, the Alchemy Matrix is currently at the stage where it needs molding tendencies. If he were to die at this moment, what would happen to Bologue?

"Whatever! Let's try it!"

Belli raised the scalpel, ready to strike at Bologue's heart, hoping to restore his consciousness. But a hand stopped her, a cold iron hand firmly grasped the scalpel.

"Now he's like a child sleeping too deeply, needing someone to wake him up, right?"

With a sudden question, Aimou's aura froze in her eyes.

"I guess so..."

"I might be able to wake him up. If this method doesn't work, then it's your turn."

As Aimou spoke, her body already began to fade, leaving only a glowing phantom in its place.

Belli had the chance to stop Aimou, but she didn't; she only nodded gently. Then Aimou resolutely reached out to touch Bologue.

The Shared Chord Body can share each other's sensations. If Bologue hasn't fully succumbed, Aimou should have a chance to awaken him.

With her intense emotions.

...

Bologue tightly gripped the giant ship's anchor, his palm keenly feeling the anchor's patterns, upturned rust, and that chilling cold.

He was shuttling at high speed through the darkness, with the sound of whistling wind coming from within, followed by torrents of pouring rain.

Cold raindrops beat against Bologue's body... though he wasn't entirely sure what it was, he simply perceived them as raindrops.

Bologue felt as if he was traveling through rain clouds, beaten by countless "raindrops." He glimpsed faint light, which next fully bloomed like explosive fireworks, swallowing every scenery.

When Bologue regained his sight, he found himself half-kneeling in a gray-white open field; the previous storm and anchor had vanished, leaving only him in a desolate and empty world.

In essence, at this moment, Bologue is merely a manifestation of "heart" and "spirit," yet he adhered to the body's instincts, gasping heavily, not that it would comfort him much, but at least his tense spirit relaxed somewhat.

Bologue hunched his body, feeling something churning in his stomach, or perhaps the journey's ups and downs led his mind into disarray. He retched several times, but nothing emerged from his throat.

Striking his chest forcefully, Bologue's breath stirred large amounts of gray-white dust.

Too painful.

Painful in every sense.

Bologue began to comfort himself, speculating that the unexpectedness of this promotion ceremony was likely linked to the incomplete soul of his debtor. If worse came to worst, the blame could be shifted onto Palmer; this guy's bad luck seemingly transferred to him.

Bologue chuckled to himself, just joking. He wasn't unreasonable; he merely felt that after enduring such madness, he ought to ease himself with a bit of humor.

"If you were dying, what would you say?"

This was one of Bologue and Palmer's casual conversations. Faced with Bologue's question, Palmer thought for a moment, then answered.

"A dark joke."

"A dark joke?"

"Yeah, terrifying death is about to descend, yet you're not afraid, but instead mock death... how elegant, composed, romantic."

"If you recited some poem before dying, I'd find it composed and romantic, but telling a dark joke... why does that feel like being neurotic unto death?"

Palmer stubbornly replied, "Close enough, close enough, you simply can't understand my romance."

Oh, how Bologue laughs tirelessly when remembering these things. He briefly forgets his current predicament, pondering why Palmer talks so easily about these strange, amusing philosophies, and wonders if Palmer ever truly feels sadness.

Bologue believes Palmer does feel sadness since everyone does, just that Palmer shelters himself where others can't see when sadness hits.

Bologue halted his random thoughts. After a brief rest, he had replenished his strength and stabilized his spirit, swaying as he stood up, facing the bizarre world.

It was a gray-white desolate land, featuring only cold rocks and lifeless dust; life here had perished, and above Bologue's head, massive stones floated in the air like mountains, colliding, crushing each other, with serpentine thunder sweeping through, painting an apocalyptic picture.

Bologue was stunned; it wasn't an unfamiliar place at all; on the contrary, it was land Bologue knew very well.

The world after death, the void world.

Bologue harbors many secrets never revealed to others, such as "previous life" and "absorption"; the world after death is one of Bologue's secrets.

Others arriving in the so-called post-mortem world tend to panic endlessly, but Bologue feels relaxed, like a car racing down a highway, finding a fuel station before the tank runs dry.

Returning here feels like returning home; as long as he waits here a while, Bologue can re-enter the living world.

But this time, the world after death felt somewhat amiss, and upon realizing this, a crisp snapping sound echoed behind Bologue.

That person shattered the silence and deliberately exposed their presence.

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