...
He didn’t know how much ti had passed before he awoke again, his gaze lifted, looking at the vacant seat beside him.
"You’ve left too, Idrylia..." Perhaps only he understood the complicated and heavy entanglents between them.
In his youthful days, the lively and beautiful Elf on the television screen, dressed in a blue stardust gown singing, was once the object of his dreams.
.
He still rembered the first ti they t, in an alleyway in a certain city.
He scrambled through the passage under the street, evading the rcenaries from the agency that were chasing him, with stains and scratches on his body, hair disheveled and embarrassed.
After finding a temporarily vacant rental room, he used his self-crafted hacking program to swiftly open the door, went in to take a shower, removed the scent on him, and then changed into the landlord’s old clothes, tossed the discarded clothes into the trash, and quickly left.
As long as he exited this alley, he could find suitable transportation, then swiftly relocate; after that, he must board the city’s rapid transit to enter the safe and bustling area where grey sector rcenaries dared not act recklessly—there, he could find ti to breathe and seek a way out.
As he jogged, his thoughts rapidly considered the problems at hand.
Ever since the Aijieka Network gradually established, the organization he once ford with companions faced an unprecedented crisis; familiar IDs grayed out one by one, dimming eternally, and he was not exempt, being pursued and hunted by professional agency mbers due to involving enormous interests.
Just as he neared the alley exit, where the street outside was crowded, two people in black suddenly erged from the corner, one placing a hand on his shoulder, the force in the knuckles causing his bones intense pain, shocking and unnerving him.
He barely had ti to shout before his mouth was covered by special black gloves; these specially made gloves had silencing capabilities, causing the intended cry to beco muffled and soft, so faint even he couldn’t hear it.
Then a slap landed on the back of his head, making his brain instantly dizzy, almost kneeling and fainting; fortunately, he had long occupied the Aijieka Network, with ntal toughness far exceeding ordinary people, preventing him from collapsing imdiately.
Regardless of how much he struggled at that point, it was futile, those two pairs of hands clamped down on him like iron, and then a cold potion was injected through his neck, causing his consciousness to muddle, vision gradually tipping down.
That distance barely less than ten ters.
His head struck the ground as his body fell, using the remaining vision at the corner of his eye to look at the exit not far away, sorrowful regret, lant, and unwillingness spread like cold stones, sinking his heart step by step into darkness.
At that mont, it was the scene he would never forget in his lifeti; just as he thought everything would end, becoming like his forr companions—a disappearing ID on the network—the tip of a shoe in black leather appeared in front of him.
The tapping sound on the floor was so beautifully light, those slender legs were so lovely.
Then everything in front of him went completely black, and when he awoke again, it was several hours later.
He lay by the road exit still, but this ti no one forcibly restrained him, only a slender Elf girl with blonde hair stood before him, wearing a wide white sumr hat, seemingly just returned from a vacation.
"Lalala, Mr. Square is awake." Her nightingale-like voice playfully teased, then waved, two tall attendants erged from sowhere, helping him to stand.
"Always looking down at a girl’s legs is impolite, you should introduce yourself; I’ve been looking for you for a long ti." She slightly placed her hands behind her back, examining the youth’s face, marked with wounds and in embarrassnt.
"I, my na is..." He reluctantly ntioned his real na, and that na was never used again since, perhaps only she kept using it to refer to him.
"You, thank you for saving , can you tell your na?" The youth awkwardly inquired, dared not look at the Elf girl, as beautiful as a Blue Peacock, before him.
"As for , I can’t tell you my real na now, but if you insist on calling sothing, call Blue Peacock Mask."
"The Masked marvel, the Legendary chivalrous figure, isn’t that splendid." Her deanor was lively, gesturing with her hands and spinning on the spot.
"Alright, Blue Peacock Mask."
He whispered this na until the passage of ti swiftly carried a hundred years away.
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