Chapter 1237: NO. 141: Back then it was also like this

NO. 141: Back then it was also like this.

At this point, still trying to act as if nothing happened is naturally difficult.

Taking a step back won't give you vast skies; choosing to act also remains difficult to fulfill one's desires.

This should be the worst situation, especially when you clearly know the child's strength; that profile, repeatedly published in the news sidebar, is always like a fleeting glimpse of a startled swan, bringing you a feeling that, though mixed with many emotions, can largely be called comforting.

He has become stronger, and indeed very, very strong.

Although in this era, becoming stronger is actually not that hard, the child's progress still lets you marvel at the world's incredibility, and as you understand it more deeply, you discover that the path's nature is especially extreme.

Corroding the mind and luring darkness—compared to confronting others, it is more a struggle against oneself.

Such trials are also old talk among demons, but they are usually directed at others, not oneself—demons are always extreme in desire, so resisting this path is far harder for them than for other beings.

However, those humans who are too similar to demons, and occasionally even surpass them, are no better off.

So, for either side, it is a difficult and profound path walking on a tightrope.

The nun cannot imagine the end of this road.

She has seen too many people and events, and even more the decline and twilight of countless heroes, warriors, and mighty fighters.

No one has ever been truly immortal, no one has ever won every battle; even those of long life who claim to have flawless strategies cannot guarantee they won't fall.

Their mistakes still allow some leeway, but the struggle against oneself is always perilous, so she cannot imagine the end of this road.

Yet she knows that both demons and humans ought to refuse to venture into the thicket of thorns.

Seeking benefit and avoiding harm is the instinct of all beings, but the child born of human and demon is cold as a machine; choosing such a path might seem fitting, yet seeing the child's changes, she knows the above does not hold.

Little Aomo's coldness is no longer pure; his stance has become ambiguous, his choices extremely strange, carrying a hint of self-destructive folly.

A bit familiar…… I must have seen it somewhere……

Such unfathomable wickedness, such unacceptable madness—I must have seen it somewhere…… When she realized this, she indeed recalled several figures, among them the Satan she had once regretfully told the girls about.

But at that time, she could still console herself with the possibility of error in information gathering.

Before truly meeting, all her guesses were merely her own opinion; holding such a hopeful thought, she finally met the child.

Hope died.

However, at the last of her heartfelt sorrow, what did she hear?

Choice?

The child gave two choices?

Can this be called a choice?

The former, utterly impossible, is merely a pad forcing you to choose the latter; in this process, within those blood‑dark red pupils, there is neither joy nor delight, nor any pain or sorrow.

He spoke to you so calmly and sincerely, yet his words were cruel and decisive.

It felt as if returning to that afternoon 15 years, 7 months, and 3 days ago.

That was the beginning of everything.

Hannah, this is the name given to her, derived from Hebrew, meaning elegance, charm, and loving-kindness.

With a spell woven from her name, she was shaped into the gentlest, most loving woman in the orphanage, caring equally for every child there.

Impartial, without exception.

No matter what others are like, Hannah is forever the grandmother most beloved by the children.

At single‑digit ages, due to the orphanage's semi‑closed management, the so‑called demon infants show no essential difference from human infants.

Even if they might later feel ashamed of their orphanage background and want to hide it, at the moment of leaving the orphanage they all feel the same sorrow and reluctance, even making plans for the future.

Hannah has already seen many batches of children come and go, and she has long been accustomed to such farewells.

Those cries and vows, whether true or false, don't matter; she sees them off without a ripple, and when they leave the orphanage, outside the spell's reach, she also withdraws that impartial loving‑care.

It is not a reduction or an increase, but simply ceasing to concern herself with those children's futures.

This is her way of life.

Her long years remember much, yet she does not wish to remember too much.

Moreover…… when those children return to visit in adulthood, middle age, and old age, wouldn't there be a sense of surprise?

When she says this, her colleagues always snap sarcastically to expose her—'Cut it out, you've basically abandoned them.'

That doesn't matter either.

She pays no heed to that evaluation, continuing this way of life, sending off batch after batch of children with those loving golden goat eyes, until at the end of one farewell she hears a unique admonition.

Do not contact.

Without crying or vows, that boy, whose heart was as still as water and utterly calm, turned the tables and 'abandoned' her and everyone.

Exceedingly excellent!

She had thought that, although he often acted deliberately toward his peers, he was still a child, yet he displayed a stunning decision.

Deeply moving!

Innately, to the indifferent demon, he was the discovery of a young fellow of the same kind.

Enough to awaken her long‑dried loneliness.

Too wonderful!

Judging a child's potential in youth is inherently hard to be precise; her praise for every child rests on facts that could be overturned.

But for such a child, one cannot help but hold expectations.

Moreover, he is a child who left the orphanage, allowing the demon to be free from Hannah's name's influence and to pour excessive attention into him in his spare time.

The more attention, the greater the expectation.

She was that expectation, stubbornly abiding by those words, even restricting her colleagues' behavior, so that indeed they no longer contacted each other, only conducting the most perfunctory formal visits.

That was a contract, and also deep love.

Holding the deep love that sprouted at the moment of being abandoned, loving that cold, decisive otherness, the emotionally abnormal demon looks forward to his every moment of the future.

But at the end of this wait, however, was that youth who was almost transformed.

It's not hard to imagine her hatred for that vampire who was completely useless in the intelligence.

Nor is it hard to imagine how important that lucky heart became after the new aspiration, painstakingly risen over a thousand years, came to nothing.

But that lucky heart is indeed dead.

Despite her beautiful appearance and noble bearing, she could not see in that youth the child's former core coldness.

But, that remark is clearly premature.

After all, at that moment, though the lucky heart was not alive, having proof made luck unnecessary.

——

"Are you really okay saying that?"

At the edge of the office balcony, the electronic foster father, transferred from Mei Pu Bo Fang's phone to Aomo's terminal, felt somewhat uneasy.

The nun who made him uneasy had already shown a look of surprise earlier, and then displayed a friendliness as if nothing had happened—this left Xin Tiao Xi and Mei Pu Bo Fang especially unaccustomed, while Texas and Er Su La seemed extremely familiar with such a situation.

Aomo originally thought Morrison was in the latter.

After all, the clients of the security company are often high-status figures, many of whom have experienced such "changing faces" occasions.

"How could they be the same? That woman earlier seemed like she wanted to eat me, and toward you she seemed to want to exterminate you completely."

"She can't do that; the orphanage is her seal, essentially her execution ground. Unless she fights for the children, she can't even exert seventy percent of her power."

"Ah?" Morrison noticed the abrupt information.

"And I'm no longer a child," Aomo raised his hand and rubbed his nose bridge, "based solely on this, she couldn't possibly act; she would revert to the original grandmother."

"... Then does this count as resolved? Just relying on one call?"

"Do you really want to fight her? Throw down a harsh line and let them come to the data world for a couple of rounds with you?"

"You little brat, at times like this you shouldn't be charging ahead!" Morrison really wanted to give him a smack on the head, but raising his hand like this would just pass through, "but I definitely don't want to see you fighting those guys."

"They seem to care about you quite a bit."

"You don't care about me?"

"Do you need me to care?" Morrison wondered.

"So what's the use of caring?"

"..."

Morrison fell silent for a moment, then said: "Alright, then may I ask a question?"

"She won't look for a chance to strike, although they all really want to attack you, but grandma is a very clear-headed and aloof person, and she'll also keep others in check."

"I'm not asking that."

"Then what do you want to ask?"

"Ah, um, I wanted to ask you whether you previously..."

"Your appearance is exactly like some shoujo manga, kinda gross."

"You little rabbit bastard!"

"I'm just speaking frankly; your face is naturally quite shoujo-manga-like, why not change your skin?"

"Pah pah pah, what do you think your father is!"

"I think this is the advantage of electronic ghosts: the art style can be switched at will, the appearance can be changed at will, just need to add a few strokes of computation."

"Emmm, only need a few strokes?"

"A few MB of a small program?"

"Oh, then where... no, are you changing the subject?"

"You just want to ask me whether I was initially squatting outside the office listening? Don't worry, I recorded it, pretty cool."

"You shut up... really?"

"The kid sitting beside me at that time said that."

"Where did a kid come from!?"

"You speak so strangely; this is an orphanage, and moreover an orphanage in the demon realm." Aomo looked at the not-so-intelligent electronic foster father with a concerned gaze.

"Truant rebellious students are always many, but as long as you give them some fruit snacks they'll become well-behaved."