What kind of despair makes people resist the instinct of life.
The soldier lying on the ground did not get up. He didn't seem to realize that the one who saved him was not the angel of death he said. He stared at the ceiling blankly, his eyes dull and tear-stained, until Blake Jing checked his injuries. After leaving the door, he didn't react to the outside world.
Like a puppet.
Like a dead thing.
"Thank you for your hard work. I will abide by the agreement and she can rest tonight." Mori Ogai put his gloved hand on the girl's shoulder. The girl's eyes missed Blake Jing and looked at the man in the room, with a deathly expression on her face. The little light faded quickly.
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