All around us, birds sang and flowers bloomed. We were gathered on a small island, surrounded by clear, pristine lake water. Cherry blossoms floated gently across the surface, drifting quietly with the current.
Rivers crisscrossed the landscape, and many places were connected by beautiful wooden bridges. Along the banks stood small pavilions, long corridors, and, like our island, patches of land—some covered in artificial rock formations.
"Brother, you know, drinking Morning Dew Wine this way, you’re missing its true flavor."
Lan Yin downed cup after cup of Morning Dew Wine while everyone discussed my Spectral Shotgun. By now, the Spectral Shotgun was shrouded in black energy. Old Tom had once tried holding it, but found himself unable to use it—and nearly lost control.
"Xiao Yuan, I think you’re the only one in this world who could make a weapon this modern."
Old Tom said, raising his glass to toast with me. He smiled warmly at me.
At that moment, Lan Yin wandered off alone into the distance. I drifted after him, carrying a wine flask. We found a small pavilion and sat down. I poured him a drink.
"Are you still caught up in what happened two years ago?"
I asked tentatively. Lan Yin nodded, forcing a bitter smile. He raised his glass, emptied it in one go, and gazed at the river strewn with cherry blossoms.
"Ethan, not long after we entered the passage, I sensed it—Rachel Lan’s name vanished from the Lan family register. Completely erased."
I drank silently, then lowered my head, leaning against the railing, quietly watching the flowing river.
"In my life, I've witnessed so many people leave—again and again—helplessly watching them go, unable to do anything."
I understood Lan Yin’s feelings. He’d seen this happen more than once, powerless each time. Mo Yu was like this, Lan Miu too, and this time, it was Rachel Lan.
No matter how strong a person is, it's impossible to bear such wounds over and over again.
"You've changed a lot in these two years, Ethan. You've become more resolute, and you've found your own path."
"And what about you?" I asked Lan Yin seriously. He shook his head.
"Me? I don't know. I was right there at the time. If I had died instead..."
"That's enough."
I suddenly stood up, staring at Lan Yin. Then I set down my glass and flask, gripping the railing tightly with both hands.
"And what about me? I watched Rachel disappear right in front of me, Lan Yin. Who are you to judge?"
I turned and glared at Lan Yin. He looked utterly drained, slumped against the railing like a pile of dead weight.
"Ever since I got out, even when I sleep, all I want is to dig up something about The Immortality Society. Anything at all. Rufina Howard is still unconscious, the Ghost Burial Squad vanished without a trace—and you, Lan Yin, what have you been doing these past two years? Answer me."
I roared, staring at Lan Yin. He just smiled.
Lan Yin’s will seemed completely shattered, filled with regret. From what I’d heard, over the past two years, the other nine Soul Collectors from the Hades Circle had come to find him many times, hoping he’d return. But every time, Lan Yin was dead drunk, out cold.
No matter who tried to persuade him, Lan Yin just kept drinking. Nothing but drinking.
Suddenly, I drew the Spectral Shotgun from my back. After a rush of chaotic energy, the shotgun appeared before Lan Yin. I handed it to him. He gripped it weakly, and when I let go, it fell to the ground with a thud.
"This is what you’ve accomplished in two years? Hunting monsters? Pathetic."
I knew very well that with my current abilities, I couldn’t handle the stronger Blue-Faced Men, let alone the Golden Mask Men.
"Things have to move forward, step by step. If you keep drowning in the past, you’ll never move on. If the flame of hope in your heart goes out, you just have to rekindle it—with your own hands."
I picked up the Spectral Shotgun, opened the loading chamber, and held up two Deathbane Bullets. I loaded them, cocked the gun with a click, and handed it back to Lan Yin.