Port Mafia Play House

The reason is simple and ridiculous.

The Emperor is sick.

The lives of dozens of people in the village are nothing compared to that noble man.

The boy's whereabouts are uncertain, not because the villagers don't want to tell, but because they don't know where he is at all.

So the guards killed them all.

The only survivor, no longer grateful and respectful, looked at him with familiar eyes.

That is hatred.

Unforgettable hate.

The boy asked the guards to let them go.

On the night before leaving, the survivor rushed into the house where he lived, covered in fire.

The fire was burning the boy's skin, and the wind would cause heart-wrenching pain, so he didn't run away.

He hugged the man who had been burned to black charcoal, lowered his eyes and bowed his head, speechless.

Tears rolled down the corpse's face.

The boy followed the guards to the bustling town and walked into the magnificent imperial city.

"I can cure you," said the boy, "but you have to spread faith for me."

One shrine after another was established.

The emperor's body gradually recovered.

The boy grows into a young man, he has a heart-stopping delicate face, with a gentle smile on his mouth, even the lowest maids can't help but blush and have a heartbeat, and have fantasies in their hearts.

Because he looks so gentle.

No matter what kind of people he treats, he treats everyone equally, like a merciful god, never stingy with love and tenderness.

Humans are drawn to love.

Boundless love is an irresistible temptation for human beings.

Even the Emperor is no exception.

The long-term treatment has made him increasingly obsessed with and dependent on the youth. Even on days when he has nothing to do, he still invites the young man to sit by his side and quietly make tea or write pictures.

The young man looked at him with focused and devoted eyes, as if he was born only for him.

"You are so honorable..." He laughed, "This world should be given to you—this year's birthday, please allow me to give you a special gift."

On the birthday, the guests are entertained.

Youth does offer a very special gift.

A strongest army that can neither die nor feel pain.

The emperor's eyes lit up.

The young man smiled without saying a word.

This world is inevitably going to be chaotic.

The army is conquering everywhere, and the people are in dire straits wherever they go. Panic and violence spread everywhere. The confrontation between the army and the people is getting more and more serious.

Of course, wherever the army goes, the shrine will be built there.

The young man could no longer sleep at night, and prayers and mourning tormented his nerves all day long, but no one could tell from the outside.

He sat on the roof night after night, and the darkness in his eyes became more gloomy day by day.

On the day when the rebel soldiers approached the city, the Emperor panicked and grabbed his sleeves, asking the young man to ensure his safety.

Horn Eclipse comforted him softly.

"Don't be afraid..."

You will not die.

A relaxed smile gradually appeared on the Emperor's face—the next second, the blade pierced his abdomen and stirred in his intestines.

The pain made him scream out, his expression distorted like a ghost, but just when he thought he was going to pass out from the pain, everything returned to normal.

The young man sat opposite him, smiling indifferently.

"Look..." he said softly, "I told you, don't be afraid."

"You won't die..."

——If you only die once, how can you be worthy of those dozens of lives that died in vain?

The man who stabbed the knife was the leader of the rebel army.

The emperor's fingernails scratched his skin and dug his flesh, but soon, those scars disappeared.

There is only one undead army, how fun is that.

Human beings distinguish between good and evil, but gods do not.

God can do anything.

The healing god smiled.

This time, he wants to heal humanity.

The emperor was locked in a dungeon, and tortured over and over again with every conceivable method.

The young man watched with a smile, and when he was about to die, he would save him again.

It went on and on for many, many days.

Suddenly one day, the young man felt so bored.

He has long been used to being company with the ugliness of human beings.

When they were in the sky, those who had been rescued always wanted more, but when they got to the ground, the situation did not change.

Greed and envy, power and arrogance.

Hitting each other, retaliation back and forth.

Are you happy?are you happy?Are you satisfied?

There seemed to be a hole in his heart, he didn't know when it was broken, and he didn't know what to use to fill it up, so the wind leaked like that, urging him to pace back and forth in this world in vain.

What is the meaning of being alive?

The youth ascended to the roof, and below was a scene of chaos, prayers humming in his head, like a toppled fortress, broken ruins, and piled corpses.

He opened his arms to embrace the gentle wind of the night.

At this time, he finally understood why his predecessor's horn eclipse died.

For humans, longevity is a blessing.

For them, longevity is a curse.

Endless life means endless pain.

And he had already figured out the ending for himself.

Close your eyes and fall from there—and at the same time, accept all the prayers in your head together.

In the shrines all over the place, the moaning of pain stopped abruptly, people opened their eyes blankly, the youth's consciousness was fuzzy, and the sense of weightlessness of the body was not very clear.

that's it……

he prays...

That's it... let him die.

The wind is rushing past the ears, those who died in the war, there are too many ghosts who cannot live on this land full of pain, they moan and scream, and their resentment gathers together to form a dirty and sticky black shadow .

The black shadow quietly entangled him.

On that day, the youth became demonized.

But it's not the usual demonization.

The last blessing gathers too much faith, resentment and faith are entangled with each other, he maintains half of the human form, and the other half is an ugly monster.

Osamu Dazai finally understood what it was that had been destroying inside him all this time.

That is a curse from the world.

That is the punishment of disqualification of the gods.

The youth still failed to usher in death.

This is the world's punishment for him.

The curse will haunt him forever, forever and ever.

He lay motionless for a long time, then got up and left the place.

In fact, he doesn't need to eat or drink water. He wanders around the land like a dead body, doing nothing or saying anything, just walking and walking.

It seemed that something was chasing him.

Then one day, he came back to that village.

The charred houses turned into dust, the corpses all over the ground rotted and turned into fertilizer, new dogtail grass grew on the wreckage of the village, and clusters of wild camellia bloomed.

In the weeds half as tall as a person, the undead of a boy was sleeping.

The young man froze for a moment, as if he suddenly regained his senses, the film that separated the sadness was torn instantly, and the pain rushed to the nerves like a tide.

So clear, engraved in the bone marrow.

When he realized it, he was already kneeling on the ground, and the ground in front of him was wet with tears.

It hurts, it hurts.

So uncomfortable, so uncomfortable.

Why?why me?

Pain is already the norm, but he doesn't even have the right to end everything.

The pain in the body has never been so clear. The demonic curse is biting the body's tissues, being repaired, eaten again, and repaired again.

He has lived for such a long time, and the only few happy years were also torn to pieces, raw and exposed.

What is gained is lost the moment it is gained.

His tears kept pouring out, as if from the day he was born, the part that he hadn't cried for so many years had to be released in one breath.

Still echoing in my mind, that voice like a curse.

【How can you cry】

"Cry, cry, cry, everything will be fine."

The boy did not know when he woke up. He turned his face away and patted his back lightly with his hands awkwardly.

"Although I don't know what you've been through, but." The boy bared his teeth, "Man! What's the big deal!"

The young man stared at him blankly, realizing that the young man had forgotten everything related to him.

After a person dies, if his obsession is too strong, he will stay in this world and become a wandering undead.

Because it is too tragic, they usually forget the memory of the time of death.

The young man wiped away his tears, sat down blankly, and asked the young man beside him.

"Is there really any point in being alive?"

The boy frowned, thoughtfully, "Hmm... I don't know!"

He is righteous.

"However, if you feel that life is meaningless, go to like others, hate others, and envy others!"

The young man looked at him suspiciously.

the boy explained.

"Because the meaning of life lies in connection!"

He said slowly.

"Even if you don't think life alone is worth it - but with someone, your demise will be sad."

"At least to that person, your survival will be a matter of great value."

"So, if you don't know why you live..."

The young man laughed ignorantly, showing off wantonly.

"Then live for me!"

"If you die, I will feel sad!"

Just a word without weight.

Facing the person you meet for the first time, say perfunctory comfort.

The young man looked at the young man's face, but he couldn't say a word for a long time.

He really wanted to ask a question.

You are still in this world... because you hate me?

Osamu Dazai wanted to continue watching, but the space around him had gradually begun to distort.

The person he wants to meet is "the past Hayakawa August".

He knew—probably from this day on, this god named Horn Eclipse became the person standing in front of him.

He touched the other crystal he was carrying.

In the middle of the night, the white-haired young man fell asleep lying on the desk, with a faint blue eye.

Osamu Dazai wanted to reach out and touch him—but in the next second, he was teleported back to the room where the book was placed by a person with supernatural powers from the Supernatural Secret Service Division.

After returning, Osamu Dazai lay on the bed, unable to recover for a long time.

He stayed in the "book" for too long, and suddenly returned to reality, giving birth to a psychedelic sense of confusion.

After that, Dazai went to many worlds.

Such an easy-to-use ability is not always encountered. When there is no accurate positioning, he can only walk through the remaining traces of youth bit by bit.

Sometimes it hurts, sometimes it gets lost.

At times like this, he would always think of that child.

Little by little, the ignorant and ignorant child changed from a crying coquettish ghost to not crying anymore.

Does he not hurt?

Why can he still laugh?

It was as if a barb had been stuck into the flesh, and there was a screeching sound when scraping the blackboard with my nails. I couldn't find it, and I didn't know why, but it was painful.

Osamu Dazai closed his eyes, covering the overly rich color in his pupils.

He hugged the person in front of him deeply, and the familiar breath came to his face, and the temperature of the skin was real and clear, which slightly eased the confusion of being overwhelmed.

August froze.

He thought that Osamu Dazai might use books to explore his past—but he didn't expect that Osamu Dazai really went to his world and saw everything.

not only that.

His eyelids jumped, and he reached out to untie the other bandages on his body, but Osamu Dazai pressed him on his chest.

"Why..." he chuckled, "Are you inviting me, August."

"Invite a fart!" August was going to be annoyed, "You untie it, let me see how much you have been hurt!"

Dazai didn't listen, he hugged him into his arms, and rubbed against his ears.

"Not much, really." He mumbled, "It's just..."

It's just that I've traveled through every world you've been to.

Been through every injury you've ever been hurt.

August heard the meaning behind his words, and his emotions surged uncontrollably in his heart——

He slapped him on the forehead, and Osamu Dazai quickly grabbed his hand.

However, it was too late.

White light rose, reflecting the pale face of the young man.

"Tai, Zai, Zhi!" He gritted his teeth, "Don't think that you are the only one who can fucking kill yourself!"