Thanks for _______ ________ and Nefasturis for becoming as Supporters!
===BREAK===
"Huff—" Jing Yuan let out a long breath, expelling the turbid air that had been pent up in his chest.
This single meal—so short in time—had truly been nerve-racking.
Successfully cleaning up the aftermath of beating up an Aeon was, without exaggeration, an extraordinary experience.
If this ever made it into the annals of Luofu history, it would probably leave future generations slack-jawed in disbelief.
Pinching the freshly refined pill between his fingers, he walked over to Haha.
Once she swallowed this pill, everything would be over—problem solved, peace restored, the perfect ending right in front of them.
Not only would Feixiao's drunken beating of the Joyseeker be settled, but the issue of sending this troublesome deity away would be resolved at the same time.
After all, when she woke up tomorrow, she'd believe anything they told her.
They wouldn't even need to rack their brains to deceive her—just spout a few lines of nonsense, and she'd happily trot off from Luofu straight to Penacony.
Hmm… as compensation for what happened tonight, they could just double her travel expenses.
Jing Yuan pried open Haha's mouth and fed her the pill.
The moment it entered, the spiritual elixir dissolved into fine medicinal qi. It didn't descend into her stomach—instead, it surged straight toward her head.
And then, silently, it began to take effect.
Watching this, Bailu suddenly made a connection.
"This feels just like the opening scene of The Angler Mystery," she said. "The protagonist gets knocked unconscious at the start, then is force-fed some weird pill, and a whole string of strange things happens afterward."
She rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "So doesn't that make us the Tea Gathering?"
Hearing her mutter to herself, Sylvester smiled faintly.
It really was somewhat similar.
Only Haha hadn't turned into a child—her memory had nearly regressed all the way back to an embryo.
Hmm… could that be considered a kind of good luck?
…
Interastral Peace Corporation, Luofu Branch Office.
Inside a room that no one was permitted to approach under any circumstances lay Aventurine.
At this moment, he was reclining in a chair, preparing for the creation of memory bubbles.
Providing this service was a Memokeeper he had once brushed past in Penacony—Black Swan.
She floated in midair, her form strange and elusive, shifting among images and patterns. Yet at the same time, one could clearly sense her posture: legs crossed, an elegant and exquisite face bearing a mysterious smile, gazing at him gently—like a mother coaxing a child to sleep.
"Mr. Aventurine, are you ready?" she asked softly.
"Of course," Aventurine replied without hesitation. "I've been waiting for this moment for a long time."
For the sake of reuniting with his mother and sister more smoothly—and making it easier for them to accept the truth—he had restrained himself from immediately rushing back to Pier Point to retrieve them from the welfare home Jade had established.
Now that everything was in place, excitement far outweighed any doubt. There was no way he would back out at the last second.
Still, he added, "As agreed, you are only to copy my memories. You must not leak them—and preferably, you shouldn't peek either."
Although it had been said that exposing the existence of the [Zafkiel's Twelfth Bullet - Yud Bet] wouldn't cause overly severe consequences, the truth was that he had concealed this Curio from the IPC.
If it were revealed, a swarm of bored busybodies would undoubtedly come knocking, looking to make trouble.
That was why he had carefully selected this particular Memokeeper.
Black Swan was renowned across the universe. Her divination parlor had guided countless lost souls.
If reliability were the standard, it was hard to imagine anyone more suitable than her.
Black Swan smiled faintly. "Naturally. Protecting client confidentiality is a basic professional ethic."
As for not peeking… she simply ignored that part.
A joke. What she loved most was collecting one-of-a-kind memories.
No one really knew why she did this, but she took unfathomable pleasure in it.
The most iconic example was that "beautiful memory" she shared with Acheron in Penacony.
For the same reason, she had come before Aventurine.
A high-ranking IPC executive scouring the entire universe for a Memokeeper, explicitly emphasizing secrecy—this was practically an announcement to the universe: I possess an extremely rare secret. Come look.
If she didn't savor every frame of such memories, she'd regret it forever.
Black Swan might not have consciously thought this—but she undeniably acted on it.
"Relax, Mr. Aventurine," she said in a soft, velvety voice, sweet and soothing, enough to lull anyone to sleep.
"Relax. Don't get excited, don't sink into sorrow. Just like dreaming—revisit the memory you wish to copy."
She raised her hands in a cradling gesture, and the crystal sphere she held slowly floated in front of Aventurine.
Staring at his reflection within it, he followed her instructions, letting those memories replay in his mind.
Gradually, without realizing it, Aventurine fell into a deep sleep.
And Black Swan's consciousness entered his memory space.
Inside, it felt like sitting in a movie theater that never stopped running, countless scenes of memory flashing past in sequence.
Watching young Aventurine struggle to survive in the depths of Sigonia, she nodded slowly.
"Hmm. Mr. Aventurine's childhood was indeed impoverished… but still rather warm."
With a lift of her hand, blue-violet light clung to the memory fragments, transforming them into tiny bubbles.
Next came the tragic memories of his time as a slave.
Black Swan silently compressed them into smaller memory bubbles.
Then followed the moment Aventurine used words alone to move Jade and earn himself a chance.
After watching it, she commented with genuine admiration, "For a gambler to possess such courage at that time—truly not easy."
A slave from a backward civilization winning the favor of a high-ranking IPC executive who had seen every advanced society imaginable—this required far more than confidence and intelligence alone.
She turned that memory into a bubble and marked it specially.
Such an extreme disparity in status, yet such a resounding success—it was worth preserving.
What followed was the classic tale of a bottom-tier slave's rise.
These memories were also impressive, but given Aventurine's capabilities, while not exactly inevitable, they did feel like a natural progression.
Difficult, yes—but not unique. The universe had seen many similar stories.
Compared to the earlier memory, these were a tier lower.
With a casual gesture, she converted them into memory bubbles as well.
Twenty years of Aventurine's life had now been thoroughly reviewed.
Only the past few days remained.
Black Swan felt a flicker of curiosity. What kind of earth-shattering secret lay here, to warrant Aventurine's repeated insistence on secrecy?
Almost everything so far could likely be found in the IPC's archives.
Aside from serving the Company, he had done little else. His private life, aside from lavish material indulgence, could practically be described as boring.
So why the need for secrecy?
Surely it wasn't because he was so loyal to the IPC that he feared leaking corporate investment plans?
Black Swan laughed softly to herself.
That idea was almost comical.
Her slender fingers moved, calling up the most recent memories.
The work was nearly finished. As she idly toyed with the only somewhat interesting memory bubble, she shook her head.
This trip hadn't been entirely fruitless—but it still fell far short of her expectations.
She lowered her gaze, resting her chin on her hand, reclining lazily against a chaise formed of memory-matter, waiting in boredom for the recall to conclude.
Then she saw Aventurine enter the Curio Trash Can Shop.
She watched him pull the [Guide to How to Cast a Spirit Bomb, From Beginner to Mastery] from a trash can—along with a series of purple Curios.
Her long lashes flicked upward, brushing against nonexistent air.
Her arm shifted from supporting her chin to propping up her jaw.
"So that's how it is," Black Swan murmured. "Such a terrifying weapon… it truly makes sense to keep it secret as a trump card."
But then confusion surfaced on her face once more.
"Still… is it really necessary to copy this into a memory bubble?"
The next memory appeared.
This time, Aventurine pulled an extremely ancient-looking handgun from a burst of golden light.
Sylvester's voice echoed through the space:
"Its name is the [Zafkiel's Twelfth Bullet - Yud Bet]. And its effect is simple—it allows you to return to the past, to personally reclaim what was lost."
…!
Black Swan abruptly stood up.
With a flick of her hand, she froze the scene and instantly flew closer.
Enlarging the image of that unassuming antique handgun, she stared at it without blinking.
At last, she understood the true reason Aventurine insisted on secrecy.
This gambler had actually dared to change history.
And what he truly cared about—what he would want to reclaim—needed no explanation.
There could only be one answer.
His mother. And his sister.
And nothing else.
===BREAK===
Like the story and want more chapters?
Join and support me by joining my Patreon!
[email protected]/SiRoasa