Psychics don't die from gunfire

Chapter 611 The Absoluteness of History

"Uh-huh."

"You really don't want to gamble now?"

"Ahem." The curly-haired boy coughed twice and smiled shyly, "I just gamble a little bit occasionally, it's really just a little bit."

Exactly, Agalemare.

Compared to when we met a few years ago, he was like a completely different person. His thin stature had suddenly grown to over 1.7 meters due to adequate nutrition, and his cheap second-hand mechanical prosthesis had been replaced with a model that was visibly not cheap.

Even the temperament of hanging out in the streets of corporate alliances, stepping on needles and condoms all year round, and running away with a hunched back in the bloody and dirty alleys with his head in his hands, has turned into a rather subtle bookish air.

"Well, I can actually explain this a little bit—"

Agaremar pulled at the collar of his shirt and chuckled. "The main reason is that [One-third Luck] is a bit too useful for things involving probability. I have this psychic skill, so I have to use it."

"By the way, I really didn't expect you to show up here. I was shocked when I saw the notification that it was you looking for me!"

"The Silent Society is not some kind of detached observer. Why can't I be here?"

Song Shi leaned on the railing and looked at the rippling water below. This was an urban park located on the second level of the World Beyond the Realm. These scholars obviously had no interest in asceticism, so they built a not-so-small artificial lake for this park.

"The spiritual power at the peak of the first ring." Song Shi commented objectively: "I think the advancement speed is a bit slow."

"Hey, hey, you can't expect everyone to be the same as you." Agaremar scratched his head: "Well, I admit that even by normal standards, this still doesn't seem fast."

"What is the last psychic skill?" Song Shi asked, "I remember that the gift given to you by the path was [One-third of Luck], and then you got [Delay] by accident, which can postpone the repayment of 'two-thirds of Misfortune'."

Agalemaal answered without hesitation: "It is [Expansion]. Luckily, the interference force is limited, but I can temporarily make it stronger."

"By the way, please don't say anything like 'try it on me'. No matter how arrogant I am, I, a first-level person, can't interfere with a fourth-level person, especially one like you who has been involved in so many big things."

The young man pointed to his temple, then put his palms together and prayed: "If you insist on trying, the backlash will be enough to keep me in bed for a week."

"Am I like that kind of person?"

Song Shi remained calm.

"But I didn't expect you to become a reserve clerk. Aren't the requirements for a clerk quite high?"

"What are you talking about? I've also been studying very hard." Agaremar counted on his fingers: "Firearms use and reorganization, philology, geography, and various types of history - my current level of history is not necessarily better than that of a master's degree holder from the Corporate Alliance."

"History is a mirror that can help us understand the rise and fall of things." Song Shi became more interested: "Then can you tell me about the current situation in Terra?"

"Have you ever cooked with a pressure cooker? It's going to explode." Agalemal said bluntly: "I can't think of a possibility that doesn't lead to a total war."

"Tell me something I don't know." Song Shi shook his head.

"Uh," Agaremar thought for a while, "Then it seems that there is nothing." "Oh no, it seems that there is." The boy suddenly reacted, "If you ask me what I think, let's not talk about the distant past, just talk about the recent Seven Land War, a battle involving tens of thousands of people and hundreds of thousands of people. Now it is just a short paragraph. No one still remembers how many times the knife pierced the skin and how many liters of blood were drained."

"But..." Agaremar paused, as if he was considering his words. After a while, he said, "Perhaps from a historical perspective, this is not a bad thing. The world is already bad enough. Perhaps tearing it down and rebuilding it is the only option."

The boy stretched out his hand, and his angular alloy prosthetic limb blocked the artificial sun. The sunlight projected from between his fingers onto his face, forming mottled light patterns.

"I'm very lucky. Too lucky. First, I met you when I was kidnapped and used as a human sieve. Then I successfully joined the Silent Society and became a reserve clerk." The boy shook his head slowly: "But how many people in the world are as lucky as me? Many more people died cleanly. Why did they die?"

Agalemare withdrew his hand and straightened his collar.

"This is my idea."

······
Aerospace carrier: the world outside the world.

After saying goodbye to Agalemare.

A pure white room with a standard cube structure.

"——I'll give you a brief summary."

Mortimer leaned against the sofa, while the young man sat on the sofa opposite him. It seemed that the two of them were not conducting some bizarre experiment, but rather like a therapy room with a psychiatrist's weekend schedule.

"If you are ready, just say yes."

The man smiled and said, "We want to observe the absoluteness of 'historical nodes', that is, when the environment, identity and power have changed, whether the modern historical nodes can become the historical nodes of the past - and vice versa."

"Later, I will use [Infinity of All Things] to put you into a randomly selected re-enactment of history. Well, it's not random. You can think of it as a virtual game, or take everything you encounter seriously. It's up to you. We won't interfere."

Mortimer hesitated.

"To be precise, we won't interfere with anything. You just need to do whatever you want."

"Okay." Song Shi raised his hand: "The re-enactment of history is so moving. I can't wait."

"Nice answer, although it seems very disrespectful to history to say this." Mortimer snapped his fingers: "First test, let's get started--"

A crisp sound was heard in the room, as if millions of crystal balls were gently colliding with each other.

Song Shi only felt an indescribable pulling force on the palm of his hand. It was a gentle force that could be shaken off with just a thought - but at this moment, how could he choose to give up?
His consciousness sank, and perhaps after a moment, he suddenly woke up again.

When Song Shi opened his eyes again, he heard the loud sound of strong wind blowing through the banners and the rapid sound of a horn.

What touched the five senses earlier than the sound was the lingering turbid smell of blood. The door of the hastily built tent was rolled up, and shouts, wails and the muffled thunder of horse hooves trampling were heard in the face!

(End of this chapter)