The drop of green liquid before me indeed carries a fragment of Agent Seven's soul. Though it's only a small part, I begin to wrap Agent Seven's body with a strand of white thread.
Agent Seven seems to understand my intention. Green liquid continues to ooze from his palm. In an instant, I sense a small fragment missing from his soul, but as Agent Seven stops releasing the green liquid, his soul rapidly repairs itself.
I stare in astonishment. Originally, I hadn't planned to interfere with matters of the soul, but this complex and precise process is beyond his ability.
If I hadn't intervened, I wouldn't have known; once I did, I was startled. Their abilities should harm the soul, yet when they use their powers, the soul is damaged, but once they stop, it recovers swiftly. The only things depleted are their mental and physical strength.
Their yang energy also drops slightly, but nothing else is affected. I withdraw my power, letting the green liquid fall to the ground, where it immediately corrodes the surface, sending up a plume of black smoke.
"Should we keep trying?"
I hum in response, wanting to see what other changes Agent Seven's powers might have. He raises a hand, his gaze growing serious. Earlier, I saw him attempt to control the green liquid seeping from his skin, but he failed. This time, Agent Seven concentrates even harder.
Bit by bit, green liquid oozes from Agent Seven's hand, then starts to drip down. Suddenly, the flow stops, and the liquid seems to come alive, gathering in his palm.
Gradually, the green liquid seeping from Agent Seven's skin pools in his palm, then begins to coalesce, its color darkening.
At that moment, Agent Seven tenses up. A blob of nearly black liquid falls onto the tabletop, instantly sizzling as it corrodes a section of the ghostly stone, turning it into a cloud of black smoke.
Agent Seven pants for breath, beads of sweat quickly forming on his forehead.
"Should we keep trying?"
I shake my head and quickly steady Agent Seven, who seems weak in the knees. I help him over to a spot beneath a cherry blossom tree, where the grass is soft. He sighs helplessly.
"We probably won't make much progress in a short time."
Looking at Agent Seven, I smile a little, then shake my head.
"You all are quite clever—much more so than that Zhang Qingyuan. As long as you keep practicing, you'll get there. By the way, can you tell me why you became one of the Forsaken?"
I quietly watch Agent Seven. The powers they possess might be tied to events from when they still had faith. I want to ask in detail.
Agent Seven gives a bitter smile, a touch of sorrow in his eyes, then shakes his head.
"Let me have a drink first, then I'll tell you the whole story."
I hum in response, then drift out of the apartment building. Soon, I leave Ronan's Shadow Realm, which, with its own consciousness, allows certain people and ghosts to freely enter and exit without restriction.
Soon, I bought plenty of food and drinks from the street. I plan to get Entity 001's share later at eleven; she's already asleep now.
When I return, Agent Seven and I sit in the small pavilion. After taking a sip of wine, he leans back, looking relaxed, as if reminiscing.
"It's alright, take your time. Just share whatever you're comfortable with."
Agent Seven nods. After we've eaten and drunk for a while, he finally begins to speak.
"I used to be a doctor. But..."
As Agent Seven speaks, he raises a trembling hand. He closes his eyes; even though his body has been restored by Rachel Lan's power, the knots in his heart are not so easily untied.
Finally, Agent Seven takes a deep breath and begins his story.
Agent Seven was born into a family of doctors. Both his parents were physicians. Though their skills were average, Agent Seven grew up immersed in medical knowledge, and he came to love the profession. Always bright, he excelled in school from elementary through university.
During college, he performed his first small surgery with a scalpel and felt an unprecedented sense of awe. It was around then that his faith in medicine truly began.
But to become a truly capable doctor, one must go through extensive hands-on practice. Agent Seven worked tirelessly every day in medical settings.
Gradually, Agent Seven became an outstanding surgeon. By age thirty, he was already well known, and his parents and younger sister were proud of his achievements.
With years of honing his skills, Agent Seven's medical expertise grew, and it seemed as if everything in his life was going perfectly.
Every day, Agent Seven worked on the front lines, saving many lives on the operating table. The joy of seeing someone survive after surgery became his obsession, and he turned into a complete workaholic.
Then, an accident occurred—Agent Seven's younger sister was critically injured. At the time, Agent Seven confidently assured his parents that he would save her.
But when Agent Seven reached the operating table, he was stunned—his sister was barely alive, on the brink of death. He began the surgery.
After more than ten hours, Agent Seven was drenched in sweat. He came out of the operating room trembling, facing his anxious parents at the door, not knowing what to say.
Despite everything he'd learned and done over the years, the miracle did not happen—his sister died from her injuries.
Family meant everything to Agent Seven. His sister was his emotional support; whenever he faced troubles or work stress, she would comfort him and offer advice.
Faced with the sudden loss of a loved one, and witnessing his sister's death on the operating table, Agent Seven could not let go.
From that moment on, it was as if something began hollowing out Agent Seven's heart, slowly devouring him.
Such a blow is fatal to anyone. Afterward, Agent Seven began making frequent mistakes during surgery, even putting some patients' lives at risk. Eventually, the hospital sent him home to recover, and his parents, afraid for his wellbeing, urged him to see a therapist.
But no matter what he tried, the emptiness in Agent Seven's heart only grew. He started losing his temper, mocking the medical profession, and eventually drowned himself in alcohol, completely losing hope.
His parents kept trying to console him, but it was no use. Agent Seven left the city he'd lived in, not knowing where to go or where his journey would end. He wandered, eating and drinking as he pleased, planning to spend all his savings and not caring if he died along the way.
This bleak, shadowed life brought no change. It was as if Agent Seven's heart had died. Around this time, whenever he slept, he would enter the world of light, gaining special powers. He didn't understand why he was there, but in that world, he felt omnipotent.
Yet each time he opened his eyes, he returned to his fallen self. Agent Seven kept wandering, drifting in and out of drunkenness, gradually accepting everything—none of it meant anything to him anymore.
During those dark, hopeless days, Agent Seven met Entity 001. In the world of light, he fought fiercely with the girl, but he was no match for her.
There were other Forsaken in that world too. After speaking with them, Agent Seven gradually understood why he was there—he had lost his faith, or rather, his faith had died.
When a person's beliefs are shattered, it's as if they die inside.
After that, although Agent Seven and Entity 001 still clashed occasionally, they eventually began to talk, and gradually became familiar with each other.
One day, Entity 001 said her time was running out, that her life was hard, and the nanny her family had hired was cruel—often abusing her, stealing her treatment money, and threatening her. She hoped Agent Seven could help.
Without hesitation, Agent Seven went straight to her home after waking up. He found Entity 001 lying in bed, skin and bones, suffering from a rare disease. The nanny, just as Entity 001 had described, took money without doing her job, stole Entity 001's treatment funds, and threatened her.
Unable to stand it, Agent Seven helped Entity 001—he poisoned the nanny and disposed of the body. From then on, Agent Seven took care of Entity 001's daily life, tending to her needs. Both knew their lives were nearing their end.
During the day, Entity 001 couldn't speak clearly, but at night, when both were asleep and entered the world of light, they could finally talk.
At this point, Agent Seven stops, looking at me with sadness in his eyes.
"We're all people without hope, or maybe just without courage. Perhaps, even now, we're no different than before. Even if our bodies have healed, even if the past is behind us, we've still lost what mattered most."
I hum in response. Now I seem to understand why Agent Seven always keeps alcohol nearby. Whenever he cooks, he puts a bottle next to him—only after drinking does he start chopping and cooking. Alcohol numbs his nerves, so his hands won't shake.
I can't offer any advice or say anything, because I'm not them—I can't understand what they call faith.
"Maybe this really is a chance, but I don't know how to seize it. This has been the happiest time I've had in years."
I pat Agent Seven on the shoulder.
"Don't overthink things. Just focus on mastering this power here—it might be a gift from fate. I don't know if continuing will produce results. Do you remember what happened in the world of light?"
Agent Seven's eyes widen, a faint light flickers within, and then he smiles helplessly.