Chapter 2398: Planned Obsolescence, Phase One Experiment Success

In the Main Plane, Imaska, barring any accidents, already has cheap materials capable of replacing Mithril; Xia Duo obtained from there the Psionic Creation formula for a material that can replace Standard Mithril.

Clearly, there are superior materials over there that can rival high-purity Mithril; otherwise, they would never have given up their only advantage...

"I am a failure, barely paying attention to whether the sun is shining or not, because I have no time.

"My parents couldn't provide me with support, my education isn't high, and I am all alone in the city, searching for a future.

"I looked for many jobs, but I couldn't get hired; perhaps no one likes someone who isn't good at speaking, doesn't love to communicate, and hasn't shown enough ability.

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"I went three whole days eating only two loaves of bread; hunger made it impossible for me to sleep at night. Fortunately, I had paid a month's rent in advance, so I could continue living in that dark basement, without having to go outside to endure the abnormally cold winter wind.

"Finally, I found a job, working the night shift at the Hospital, guarding the morgue.

"The nights at the Hospital were even colder than I imagined. The wall lamps in the corridor weren't lit, and it was dim everywhere; I could only rely on the little bit of light seeping out from the rooms to help me see my feet.

"The smell there was terrible. From time to time, the deceased would be sent over stuffed in body bags, and we would work together to help move them into the morgue.

"This wasn't a very good job, but at least it allowed me to afford bread. The free time at night could also be used for studying; after all, no one is willing to come to the morgue unless there are bodies that need to be delivered or transported away for cremation. Of course, I didn't have enough money to buy books yet, and for now, I see no hope of saving any money.

"I have to thank my former colleague; if it weren't for his sudden resignation, I might not have even been able to get a job like this.

"I dream of being able to rotate to the day shift. Now, I always sleep when the sun comes out and wake up after night falls, which has made my body a bit weak, and my head occasionally throbs with pain.

"One day, the porter delivered a new body.

"I heard from others that this was my former colleague who had suddenly resigned.

"I was a bit curious about him. After everyone left, I pulled out the cabinet and quietly opened the body bag.

"He was an old man with a face both blue and white, covered in wrinkles; he looked terrifying under the very dim light.

"He didn't have much hair, most of it was white, and his clothes had all been stripped off, not even leaving a scrap of fabric for him.

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"I saw a strange mark on his chest, blue-black in color. I couldn't describe its exact appearance; the light at the time was truly too dim.

"I reached out and touched the mark, but there was nothing special.

"Looking at this former colleague, I wondered, if I keep going like this, when I get old, will I end up like him...

"I told him that tomorrow I would accompany him to the crematorium and personally take his ashes to the nearest free cemetery, to avoid those in charge of these matters finding it troublesome and just throwing them in some random river or wasteland.

"This will sacrifice one morning of my sleep, but fortunately, it will be Sunday soon, so I can make up for it.

"After saying that, I fixed the body bag and pushed it back into the cabinet.

"The light in the room seemed to get even dimmer...

"After that day, every time I sleep, I always dream of a thick fog.

"I have a premonition that something will happen before long, a premonition that sooner or later, some things that I don't know if I can call human will come looking for me. But no one is willing to believe me; they think that in such an environment and such a job, my mind has become abnormal and I need to go see a Doctor..."

A male guest sitting in front of the bar looked toward the storyteller who had suddenly stopped:

"And then?"

This male guest was in his thirties, wearing a brown tweed jacket and light yellow trousers. His hair was pressed very flat, and there was a simple dark bowler hat by his hand.

He looked ordinary, just like most people in the tavern: black hair, light blue eyes, not good-looking, but not ugly, lacking any obvious features.

And the storyteller in his eyes was a young man of eighteen or nineteen, with a tall, straight build and slender limbs. He also had short black hair and light blue eyes, but his features were deep and striking, enough to make one's eyes light up.

The young man looked at the empty wine glass in front of him and sighed:

"And then?

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"Then I quit and went back to the countryside, and came here to brag to you."

As he spoke, a smile appeared on his face, a smile with a hint of mischief.

The male guest was stunned for a moment:

"Everything you just told was bragging?"

"Haha." A burst of laughter erupted around the bar.

As the laughter subsided slightly, a thin, middle-aged man looked at the slightly embarrassed guest and said:

"Outsider, you actually believed Lumian's stories? Everything he tells is different every day. Yesterday he was still a loser whose engagement was broken by his fiancée because of poverty, and today he's become a corpse-guard!"

"Right, talking about thirty years on the east side of the Sarenzo River, thirty years on the right side of the Sarenzo River, just babbling nonsense!" another tavern regular added.

They were all farmers from the large village of Kordu, wearing short jackets that were black, gray, or brown.

The black-haired young man called Lumian leaned on the bar with both hands, stood up slowly, and said with a smile:

"You know, this isn't a story I made up; it was all written by my sister. She loves writing stories the most, and she's even a columnist for 'Novel Weekly'."

After finishing, he turned his body to the side, spread his hands toward the outsider, and smiled brightly:

"It seems she writes really well.

"Sorry for letting you misunderstand."

The man in the brown tweed jacket with the ordinary appearance was not angry; he stood up as well and responded with a smile:

"A very interesting story.

"How should I address you?"

"Isn't it common sense to introduce yourself before asking about others?" Lumian laughed.

The guest from out of town nodded:

"My name is Ryan Cos.

"These two are my companions, Valentine and Liya."

The latter sentence referred to the man and woman sitting right next to him.

The man was twenty-seven or twenty-eight, with yellow hair dusted with a bit of powder. His eyes, which were not particularly large, were a shade slightly deeper than lake blue. He wore a white vest, a blue fine-wool coat, and black trousers, and had clearly gone through some careful grooming before heading out.

His expression was quite cold, and he didn't pay much attention to the surrounding farmers and herdsmen.

That woman looked younger than the two men, her light gray hair tied into a complex bun, wrapped in a white veil that served as a hat.

Her eyes were the same color as her hair, and the gaze she directed at Lumian carried undisguised amusement, as if she found what had just happened merely interesting.

Under the illumination of the tavern's gas wall lamp, this woman named Liya revealed a dainty nose and beautifully curved lips, making her an absolute beauty in a countryside place like Kordu.

She wore a white, unpleated cashmere tight-fitting dress, paired with an off-white small jacket and a pair of Marsil boots; two small silver bells were tied to her veil and boots respectively, and when she walked into the tavern just now, they jingled all the way, very eye-catching, making many men stare straight at her.

In their eyes, this must be the kind of fashionable attire found only in big cities like the provincial capital Bigor or the capital Trier.

Lumian nodded at the three outsiders:

"My name is Lumian Lee, you can just call me Lumian."

"Lee?" Liya blurted out.

"What's wrong, is there a problem with my surname?" Lumian asked curiously.

Ryan Cos helped Liya explain:

"This surname of yours is terrifying; I almost couldn't control my own voice just now."

Seeing the surrounding farmers and herdsmen looking puzzled, he explained further:

"Those who have had contact with sailors and maritime merchants all know that there is a saying circulating on the Five Seas:

"Better to encounter those pirate generals or even kings than to run into a person named Frank Lee.

"That person's surname is also Lee."

"Is he very scary?" Lumian asked.

Ryan shook his head:

"I'm not sure, but since such a legend exists, it certainly won't be bad."

He ended this topic and said to Lumian:

"Thank you for your story, it's worth a drink, what would you like?"

"A glass of 'Green Fairy'." Lumian was not polite at all and sat back down.

Ryan Cos frowned slightly and said:

"'Green Fairy'... absinthe?

"I think I need to remind you that absinthe is harmful to the human body; this kind of alcohol can lead to mental confusion and cause you to have hallucinations."

"I didn't expect the fashion trends of Trier to have already spread here." Liya, who was beside him, added with a smile.

Lumian let out an "Oh":

"So people in Trier also like to drink 'Green Fairy'...

"For us, life is already hard enough, there's no need to care about a little more harm; this kind of alcohol can let our spirits achieve greater relaxation."

"Fine." Ryan sat back in his seat and looked at the bartender, "A glass of 'Green Fairy', and add a glass of 'Spicy Heart' for me."

"Spicy Heart" is a famous fruit schnapps.

"Why not give me a glass of 'Green Fairy' too? I was the one who told you the truth just now, and I can even tell you the situation of this kid exactly as it is!" The thin, middle-aged man who first exposed that Lumian told stories every day shouted with dissatisfaction, "Outsider, I can tell that you are still suspicious of the truth of that story!"

"Pierre, you really can do anything for a free drink!" Lumian shouted back.

Without waiting for Ryan to make a decision, Lumian added:

"Why can't I tell it myself? That way I could have another glass of 'Green Fairy'?"

"Because they don't know whether to believe the situation you're talking about." The middle-aged man named Pierre laughed triumphantly, "The story your sister loves to tell children the most is 'The Boy Who Cried Wolf'; people who always lie will inevitably lose their credibility."

"Fine." Lumian shrugged his shoulders, watching the bartender push a glass of pale green liquid in front of him.

Ryan looked at him, asking for confirmation:

"Is this okay?"

"No problem, as long as your wallet is enough to pay for these drinks." Lumian didn't care at all.

"Then another glass of 'Green Fairy'." Ryan nodded.

Pierre was suddenly all smiles:

"Generous outsider, this kid is the biggest prankster in the village, you must stay away from him.

"Five years ago, he was brought back to the village by his sister Aurore and has never left since. Think about it, before that, he was only thirteen years old, how could he possibly have gone to the hospital to be a corpse guard? Hmm, the hospital closest to us is in Daliez at the foot of the mountain, which takes a whole afternoon to walk to."

"Brought back to the village?" Liya asked sharply.

She tilted her head slightly, producing a Elf sound.

Pierre nodded:

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"Then, he followed Aurore and took the surname 'Lee', and even the name 'Lumian' was chosen by Aurore."

"I've forgotten what I was called originally." Lumian took a sip of the absinthe and said with a grin.

It seemed that he was not at all inferior or ashamed that his past had been exposed like this.