1016: Chapter 102 I’m a Tiny Bird (This title is a bit funny, but it fits the content hhhh) 1016: Chapter 102 I’m a Tiny Bird (This title is a bit funny, but it fits the content hhhh) The cetery, Desel’s farewell ceremony was in progress.
Eris stood solemnly in the center of the front row, his expression blank, as if his soul had been lost.
He could no longer make out what the priest was saying.
The ntal shield that had protected him since his brother’s death shattered under the weight of this brutal goodbye.
The passing of a life carries weight, a weight so heavy that it suffocated Eris.
But he had to face it.
“…An~”
Old comrades stepped forward one by one, paying their final respects to Desel, and then embraced Eris.
Little by little, Eris’s spirit found a foothold amid the chanical gestures, and his numb expression gradually turned solemn.
“You need to pull yourself together, Eris.”
Domo was the last to step forward.
He was Eris’s friend and had little connection with Desel; he ca today purely out of goodwill.
“Yes, thank you for coming.
It comforts greatly.”
Eris responded instinctively, and then an awkward silence fell between them, neither knowing how to keep the conversation going.
The chubby young man finally broke the uncomfortable stillness.
“Why did you and Forbes have that gunfight back then?
Honestly, you could’ve pretended to be captured first—Chan and Wolf would’ve gotten you out.”
Domo’s round face was conflicted.
Eris patted his shoulder, shook his head, and gave no reply.
The man who was once a Dream Chaser turned again to look at his fallen brother.
His n were using tools to shovel dirt, covering the black coffin with yellow soil bit by bit.
“You don’t understand, Domo.
Fate can actually be in our own hands.
Desel and I have believed this for over a decade, and this ti was no exception.”
Eris’s hunched figure seed frail, and a sense of shared sorrow welled up in Domo’s heart.
Being swept along by events is never a pleasant thing, especially when the risks are painfully apparent.
“It’s just that we weren’t very lucky this ti, that’s all.”
No grand conspiracies, no excuses for cowardice—just two people whose knees refused to bow even slightly, crushed effortlessly by the spillover of risk.
This was a minor clash between Cheng Daqi’s organization and the Arican official forces.
Both sides rely probed each other’s boundaries before quickly reaching a settlent.
Black Satan even beca a guest of honor at Wolf’s table.
But Desel died so senselessly.
“Your warrant has been lifted.
What are you going to do next?”
Domo didn’t know how to comfort his grieving friend and asked hesitantly.
“What to do?”
Eris almost felt like laughing.
The most despair-inducing part of all this was that even if he wanted revenge, there wasn’t a clear target.
Should he demand justice from the forr Great Commander?
Or seek revenge on Forbes?
That wouldn’t just be like a mantis trying to stop a chariot—it’d be a moth flying into a fla.
Every option led to a dead end.
Violent clashes of interests had taken his brother’s life, but as soone who profited from it, he didn’t even have the moral ground for vengeance.
Eris turned away, his eyes reddening once more.
“Do what needs to be done, Domo.
To join you all again, Desel wasn’t the first of my brothers to die.
I can only keep going, and go even farther.
Only then will their deaths an sothing.”
“Original intent” is a phrase that sounds beautiful, but losing it is sothing nearly everyone goes through.
Without disenchantnt, so-called original intent is nothing more than personal delusion.
When Eris first arrived in Arica, it was during the Empire’s golden age.
His youth had been drained by this country.
Now that he had grown into soone of stature, the nation itself had begun to descend into decline.
The tide of the tis forced him, step by step, to beco a tool of capital.
Yet having the value to be used could, in a turbulent era, be considered a form of fortune.
—————–
The room was shrouded in shadows, its brown-red curtains blocking out all light, leaving it suffocatingly dim within.
The woman of the house, realizing soone had been there, checked each room one by one.
Finally, as she opened the door of the pitch-black study, she found her husband, whose fate had been uncertain, alive and sitting there.
“You’re back?”
Mrs.
Jia blurted out in surprise.
“Mm.”
Her husband didn’t say much, sitting in silence while staring at the phone in his hands.
The screen’s glow illuminated his haggard face, and Mrs.
Jia felt a chill of unease.
“Are you okay?”
Lao Jia looked up at her and forced a perfunctory smile.
“I’m fine.”
Mrs.
Jia walked to the window and briskly pulled the curtains open, then turned around and complained.
“Why didn’t you send a ssage?
The kids have been missing you a lot lately.
I told them you were okay, but they’re old enough to look up news online themselves.
And your parents call every day asking about you, so I’ve just been telling them…
Lao Jia, could you at least say sothing?”
Staring at Lao Jia with visible dissatisfaction, Mrs.
Jia began to notice how empty he seed, as if his soul had departed.
Growing concerned, she moved closer to him.
“What happened to you?”
“I need to go back.”
Accountant Jia lifted his gaze, looking at the woman who was technically now his ex-wife.
Back when he planned his escape, Lao Jia’s thods had been ticulous and thorough.
But Hua Country at least maintained so semblance of order.
Arica, with its brute force and lawlessness, rendered his careful strategies ineffective.
“Go back?”
Mrs.
Jia felt as though she’d been hit with too much in one day.
First, her husband reappears out of nowhere, and now he says he wants to go back.
“If you go back, you’ll be…”
Lao Jia frowned and interrupted her.
“Not to the Mainland.
My boss has already arranged everything; you can rest easy—it’s thanks to him that I got out this ti.”
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