narration from strangers

At dusk, pubs are always farmers who work all day, mercenaries who relax their spirits, and some minstrels who want to get the fruits of their labor.

A young bard plays with his lyre. Because he has not made his debut and does not have a wonderful story that attracts people to gather, he has not received a satisfactory income for a long time - and if he doesn't find a way to make some money, he can only be Forced to change careers to make a living.

Looking at the pale yellow liquor on the table in front of you, the cheapest drink is very popular with low-level people - although they all know that there is a lot of water mixed in it, it's better than nothing, isn't it?

The door of the pub, which seemed to have never been repaired, creaked unpleasantly. The old mercenaries first turned their heads. After seeing that the people who came in were not interested them, they turned back without interest and continued to brag about their unwarranted glory.

After the young man passed through the noisy mercenary cluster and asked the bart for two cups of black gold beer - a half a cup of fine goods - he went straight to the silent bard sitting in the corner, and then put a glass of beer still attractive on the table in front of him, gently The action did not let the glass of overflowing wine.

"Hello, can I sit here?" The young man asked politely, but he didn't wait for the bard to answer. He sat down and tasted the black ** in the big wooden cup and said to himself, "It looks like Coke... but it tastes like the wine in my hometown..."

The bard finally woke up. He hugged the wine glass in front of him and sniffed carefully. When he once again confirmed that this was indeed the real treasure of the store, he embarrassedly put down the wine glass. Just now, he must have looked like an alcoholic dwarf.

"It doesn't matter." Young people continue to smile, which is an extremely polite but rebellious smile, extremely easy-going but difficult to approach.

"Because you look like a former comrade-in-arms - although he was later stabbed into two pieces by Barrett... No, a knight's long gun."

The bard couldn't help looking carefully at the young man's clothes, ordinary cloth, and a practical one-handed sword at his waist. In addition, there was no protection, and there was not even a trace of calluse at the tiger's mouth on his right hand on the table. Obviously, he was not a person who often used weapons.

"I know what you're thinking... but I have to seriously point out that I haven't used this body for a long time, and he just died before that, and he is not a man who can fight... By the way, I'm not those strange creatures, let alone a mage specializing in dead spirits. Well, I swear."

Seeing the bard constantly twisting his body listening to his words, the young man took another sip of ** in the cup.

"Well, because you are a bard, I want to tell you some stories. You can ask some questions halfway, but I can't guarantee that you understand." The young man signaled that the novice who had been scared (he was sure that he was surprised) drank a sip of wine and was shocked.

The novice swallowed his saliva and tried to calm himself down: "So, sir..." He tried to make his voice ordinary. "Why did you choose a person like me who is not famous? As far as I know..."

"Don't worry, I'm just for convenience." The young man interrupted the bard's speech and knocked on the table to signal that he was going to start telling some stories. The novice hurriedly put down the cup and took out a roll of parchment paper, a wooden pen and a small bottle of inferior ink from the backpack under the chair.

"Well, let's start from the first place I can remember... Of course, if you really feel strange, just think I'm creating."

The young man no longer looked peacefully, slowly tasting the wine in the glass, and his eyes gradually lost focus.

"In my earliest memory, I was a mercenary, and there were only a few choices for children born in poor families... to be a thief, taken away by slave traders, as a mercenary cannon fodder... or taken away by 'good-hearted' mages with a few gems as material for spell experiments."

"And I was very lucky to be taken up from the mercenary cannon fodder and became a formal mercenary. I followed my team around every day, watching the rich hire us and spend the money that was not worth mentioning for them but we had to risk our lives to earn - at that time, my heart It is full of dissentment. Why am I a poor man? Why do I have to make money with my life? Why..."

Even if the sentence is full of resentment, the young man still looks slow, just like he is talking about others.

"After that, my age gradually became older and my heart became a little numb. I left the mercenary regiment to live alone. I will help whoever gives me money - until I was 40 years old."

The young bard couldn't help interrupting, "Have you met the person you love most in your life?"

The young man looked at him funnyly. "If you are not a native, I almost thought you are a time traveler who often reads X-point novels - oh, you don't know what a time traveler is, right? Let's not talk about that, let's continue." He moistened his throat and continued to narrate.

"... That year, I received a task with the goal of attacking a caravan with the 'partners' who received the same task. Just like God was watching, we were all ambushed by the prepared caravan. My companions died one by one by one. I was captured alive because I was the leader of the team and mentioned the owner of the caravan. Man - that is, in front of a fat man, looking at his proud face, I don't accept it, but this is inevitable. I'm angry, but I'm already ready to die..."

The novice looked at the young man confusedly. He couldn't imagine that the gentle man in front of him was 40 years old?

"At this time, I saw a slender figure behind the fat man. I tried to raise my head and saw a rare black-haired girl with almost straight hair. Although she was thin and weak, she had a body that made people want to take care of, as well as delicate and beautiful. I can only describe the face as the silver moon in March. , and... that pair of dark black, no disgust, no curiosity, and no clear... In short, a pair of eyes that have no feelings but make people feel that they have been seen through, that's my life... No, eyes that can't be forgotten in her life. At that time, she was wearing a pure white cloak, in When he saw me looking at her, he just looked down at me slightly and walked back to the carriage.

"Then, that's your life..."

"What did I say? You must have been a reader of X-point YY novels in your last life. The young man picked up the glass and found that the liquor inside had dried up. Bartender, have another drink!"

"Well, let's continue. At that time, I was completely stunned, but it was not as amazing as ordinary people to see beautiful women, but a completely incomprehensible feeling, but I can confirm that it has nothing to do with sex."

"And then?"

"Then? Then I died?" The young man took it for granted and didn't care about the novice's expression of seeing a ghost at all.

"Ye, then I was cut to death with a sharp knife. At that time, in the moment before I died, I didn't remember anything, because my mind was full of voices that made me agree, so I subconsciously agreed..."

The bard siped the wine he had never had a chance to drink, and soon let it bottom out, and the young man called him another cup.

"Well, when I opened my eyes again - ha, my expression must have been very rich at that time. Do you know what I saw? I saw a dragon! A silver, huge, ancient dragon!"

The bard can't imagine the expression of the young man at that time, but he can imagine his own current expression, which must be wonderful.

"Yes, you heard it correctly. I became a newborn young dragon that can't even bite human skin!"

"The later story is very boring. In short, it is to learn the life of the dragon, then move out of your parents' residence, then find a place to live, and then decorate your own nest. After becoming a dragon, I also have the habit of liking shiny things, so I also seriously collect them, 100 years, 200 years, 500 years... In short, I have grown from a young dragon to an adult dragon, and I can't remember how many years.

"At that time, I had plenty of time to think about a question - why did I become a dragon? Is it because the god heard my prayer? Of course, it's impossible. After all, I have never prayed to the gods for anything, and there are only limited curses.

The young man touched his nose, looked at the bard writing, and waited until he wrote here. "Then I thought of a way. I deliberately revealed that I have a dragon that is easy to bully. The target is - of course, I want someone to kill me!"

"It's crazy, but you can't understand what it feels like after a guy with a heart becomes a dragon. I am not interested in dragon magic at all. There is no change in life except collecting these shiny things and sleeping and drinking. It's so old-fashioned that I want to die. This must be stupid in the eyes of human beings.

The bard nodded subconsciously and then shook his head hard.

The young man shook the wooden cup in his hand with a smile and continued to tell.

"It went well. After I finally ran away a lot of dragon butchers, I met a little guy who inherited all my property and was killed by him. Well, I remember that he was strong enough to draw with me. I don't think he will be killed if he goes out with his property.

"Hm? Have you finished this paragraph? Well, let's continue." The young man was very satisfied with the speed of the novice's writing and carefully recalled for a while, "Well, if you don't understand the next thing, write according to your understanding." After seeing the novice nod, the young man tasted the wine in the glass again and continued to talk with a warm smile--

"Unless I expected, I did be resurrected in another person's way, but this time the world is completely incomprehensible to me." The young man pressed his forehead with some distress. "How to say, there is no magic, no bard, and there are only city-based countries. The most amazing thing is that the civilization development of these countries is simply not on the same level!"

Young people compare "For example, a country's buildings can achieve more than 100 floors and fully automated production and life. People only need to enjoy and do some unnecessary work, while another country still lives in houses built by civil engineering and lives on farming. Live...do you understand that?"

Although he didn't understand it very well, the bard still nodded.

"...Well, how to put it, that time I became the most common adventurer in the world. Of course, their name is... "Traveler"? Anyway, people carry a strange weapon called 'gun' to defend themselves, and I am naturally no exception.

The young man's dexterous fingers outline a short instrument on the table with undry water stains, with a slender round tube and a very close hand-shaped grip. It is said that as long as you pull an extra thing called 'trigger' at the intersection of the grip and the round tube, it can emit ultra-high-speed iron sheets - in areas without magic, this must be extremely practical.

"At that time, I was in a much better situation than most travelers. I didn't have a car with superior performance - a car. You just think that you don't need a horse, no rest, just a magic-driven carriage." The description is very straightforward, and the bard said that he could understand it.

"In the second year of my trip, on the morning when the mountains were closed and the car was closed, the sun finally came out from behind the clouds. After putting anti-skid chains on the tires of the car, I continued to move south, hoping to find a more developed city to replenish the reserves before the fuel was exhausted. The previous one I have enough of the place where outsiders are regarded as demons. If it hadn't been for my gun, it would have been hung on the trees outside the city.

"After climbing a small hill, I saw an adventurer killing three middle-aged people who seemed to be all the way, and then put down something and left on a motorcycle. Don't ask me what a motorcycle is. Just think it's the same thing as a car."

The young man poured the beer into his mouth, and then happily put down the wine glass. "The three dead people didn't care. This interesting traveler didn't take a trace of property, and what he just put down was a ring. Maybe it's an illusion. I subconsciously thought that man was a good man - and I was more sure until I saw the truck carriages of three dead people.

A newcomer is a newcomer, and he is extremely curious about everything. "So, what's in that 'truck' carriage?"

"...Once' was loaded with a girl, and the three were human traffickers. As for why... I only saw a pile of wreckage. The reason why I concluded that it was a girl was a beautiful dress hanging in the carriage, and the three human traffickers would only eat with skulls and long blonde hair. On the crossbar."

The young man drank with disgust, as if he didn't want to recall that scene.

"Oh, by the way, in fact, it's nothing. The reason I'm talking about this is just because nearly two or three years later, I met the traveler again... as an enemy."

"We have four people, four travelers who have experienced a lot of battles and are proficient in using firearms, and received an order to destroy someone somewhere. Although it was very unhappy to see the person who released the task, they did have no money at that time - most importantly, a very happy friend I talked to at that time was among them."

The novice tried to write these familiar or unfamiliar words on the parchment, for fear of missing something. Looking at this, the young man did not embarras him, but called some wine dishes to taste slowly. The leisurely expression could not see what he was thinking at all.

"Well, you can think about the next battle by yourself. Anyway, I won't say it... I don't know the result. All I know is that I'm the third person to die. That friend was pushed into the car by me, and I was shot through my heart from behind, and I didn't even have a chance to turn back - maybe it's God's will. Death is actually killed from behind.

"After that, as I once said, I was born or appeared in different worlds, and then followed the trend of the times to do something completely useless and then died. I was a man, a woman, a vampire, served the so-called old ruler, and my experience became richer and more and more. The time saved is longer and longer, and even in a team of 20 people full of despair, I can live to the end.

When he heard the young man admit that he had been a woman, the bard subconsciously leaned back and asked in a low voice, "Well... when you were a woman, did you... er..."

The young man looked a little unnatural. "Of course, I have my own principles, so even when I was a woman, I still liked women. Of course, many people opposed it at that time."

Seeing that the story is finished, the bard has obtained so much material, and although it is not detailed, he is very satisfied with the materials that he can use his brain to create by himself.

"So..."

"Hm, can you wait a minute? Listen to me say something from the bottom of my mind. The young man waved to the bartender and added wine for the Xth time.

"Actually, so many deaths have made me tired. I want to see the girl I met in my first life all the time, because I believe that I have become like this since I met her, but I don't hate her - so many reincarnations have made me understand countless truths, so I only I just want to thank her."

The bard put away his pen and ink and said very sincerely, "Although it's a little presumptuous, I believe that since the girl let you experience so much, there must be a reason for her. Just like I want to collect these stories to support my family, she must have something. Purpose - but I believe it must not be an evil purpose.

The two slowly drank the wine in the glass, and the young man rarely put away his relaxed look. After a long time, he still smiled ambiguously.

"Well, I'll tell two more interesting stories, all of which are gifts for you!"

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The streets are extremely deserted in the middle of the night, and you can't even see a ghost except for the occasional patrols and drunkards.

The young man slowly walks on the street to eat, occasionally looking up at the two round moons in the sky, and can't help but think of the girl who can't remember her appearance at all. Only the ink pupils that seem to care about nothing but can see through everything are still fresh in their memory.

"...Hello, would you like to give me a story..." The voice of an indifferent girl with no ups and strange sentences sounded from behind. The young man suddenly turned around and saw a pure white robe. The big hood could not see his face clearly, but two long dark hair flowing from under the hood to the ground, and the pupils that seemed to be felt through the hood rarely flowed out of his eyes. Tears - these are the tears that have been separated from the world for 1,200 years.

lowered his head slightly, and the young man maintained a plain smile.

"Of course, no problem... I've been waiting for you for a long time."