Bologue is a man who keeps his promises. Generally speaking, if he agrees to do something for you, he will definitely get it done, though the way he completes it might see some deviations, at least in Aimou's opinion.

Aimou sat on the sofa, wearing a flower crown, watching others busy themselves. She wanted to help too but was persuaded back by Bologue, who said that as the main character of the night, she didn't need to do anything except stay put obediently.

Similarly, Wei'Er didn't need to do anything either. As a cat, it was fortunate enough that it wasn't causing trouble. The two of them nestled on the sofa, watching others busy themselves.

Aimou asked, "What are they doing?"

Wei'Er shook its head, "I don't know."

"Ah? You don't know anything, yet you came out with them?"

"Palmer said something about having moved to a new house and hadn't invited us to visit yet. He asked if we were interested," Wei'Er thought hard, "Anyway, what else would we have been doing?"

Bologue came over, "Hold on a second, there's still some things not done yet."

"Oh, oh."

Aimou gradually gave up thinking.

"You can have some of this first."

Bologue picked up a bag and took out some pastries. Aimou nodded, reaching out to take one.

It didn't end there. Bologue's bag seemed like a bottomless pit; he took out pastry after pastry, neatly stacking them in front of Aimou, building a high tower.

Aimou widened her eyes at Bologue, who remained clueless. Not knowing what Aimou liked to eat, he simply bought one of each kind of pastry.

Palmer brought a stack of videotapes, piling them on the sofa, and said to Aimou, "You decide what to watch."

At this moment, Hart also came over, sitting heavily on the sofa.

Hart had met Aimou several times, but they weren't particularly familiar with each other. Bologue hoped Aimou could have more friends, so he brought along these familiar acquaintances.

Hart felt a bit awkward, and Aimou looked even more awkward.

"We've met several times, but let's introduce ourselves again," Hart said, extending his hand, "Hart Vine."

"Aimou Yazhede."

Aimou said as she shook hands with Hart, cheerfully saying, "I feel like we can have a lot of common topics."

Hart thought for a moment and nodded, affirming Aimou's words.

Like Aimou, Hart had been forced to stay away from the world for a long time due to his own circumstances. Now Aimou had a flesh-and-blood body and could walk openly on the streets, but Hart still couldn't do it.

"Oh, right."

Hart rummaged through his bag and pulled out a felt doll, which looked exactly like a miniature version of himself.

"Consider it a gift for meeting me."

"Thank you!"

Aimou received the felt doll. It was exquisitely crafted and felt heavy in her hands.

Palmer caught sight of the felt doll, and upon seeing the familiar fur color, his gaze uncontrollably shifted to Hart.

The two of them locked eyes, each with different expressions.

"Don't meddle."

"What kind of weird hobby is this?!"

An excessive amount of information was exchanged between their glances.

Ever since he caught Hart using his own fur to knit scarves, Palmer had been putting all the items Hart gave him together. Not that he disliked Hart; in fact, Hart maintained himself quite well, his fur shiny and glossy, but it was just... too weird.

Every time he used those items, Palmer's mind flashed with the image of a grinning Hart giving a thumbs up, and just the thought of wearing his "friend" on his body was enough to make Palmer's brain nearly crash.

Hart was somewhat aware of this and began to channel his crafting skills into felt dolls and the like; luckily, no one except Palmer and Bologue had noticed.

Hopefully, no one else would find out.

"Come over and help."

Bologue, wearing an apron, came out of the kitchen, calling over to Hart.

Bode sat on another chair across the room, his body all skeletal. To avoid appearing too thin, he'd draped a thick coat over himself, looking just like the Death God wielding a scythe from stories, solemn and oppressive.

Aimou initially met Bode with some fear in his heart; the skeletal appearance was quite terrifying. However, he quickly realized that Bode was essentially the same as himself and Hart—they all possessed unusual appearances, making them absolute outcasts in the eyes of the world.

Aimou felt that he could somewhat understand their thoughts, unconsciously feeling close to them.

When Bologue and Palmer lived together, the living room was quite spacious for them both. But now, with so many people, the room suddenly felt cramped, especially with everyone busily moving about.

Bode looked at all this and exclaimed, "How wonderful!"

"It reminds me of the days before I became an undead," Bode initiated a conversation with Aimou, "Now that I think about it, those were actually the happiest times of my life."

Aimou shifted towards Bode's position, his hand continuously stroking Wei'Er's back.

"Were the days as an undead very terrible?" Aimou asked, "I see you all in the club, seeming happy every day."

"That's just a group of walking corpses trying all they can to kill time."

Feeling the atmosphere, Bode unexpectedly began to speak more; ordinarily, he was the most silent one.

"We chose to 'retire' here, like those devils, unable to interfere with this world, just to enjoy infinite and pale time… In fact, hearing this, we seem more like prisoners shackled by eternal life."

Bode spoke while knocking his own bones, producing a crisp sound.

"I used to be a businessman as wealthy as a nation; beneath my mountain of riches, everything in this world was within my grasp, except for one thing… time.

I made a trade with the devil, offering everything I had to obtain eternal life, but in doing so, I lost the ability to perceive things."

Bode spoke with a sorrowful tone, "Now, in this shell, I cannot feel anything."

"I really love drinking, not like Serey, who uses alcohol to mask cowardice; I genuinely enjoy it," Bode joked half-heartedly, "But a skeleton figure cannot drink alcohol; at most, it can use wine for a bath."

Aimou quietly responded, "I can understand."

Before receiving the blessing, Aimou could only rely on the Shared Chord Body to perceive the world; she could relate to Bode's sense of monotony.

"I have lost the physical stimulus, but on a spiritual level, the influence remains," Bode contentedly observed the interior, "Unlike the decadence and lifeless joy of the Undying Club, this place is full of vitality; it's been a long time since I engaged in such a scene."

Aimou scrutinized Bode, whose face was just a large piece of white bone with no expressions or eyes, only able to gauge his emotions from his tone.

Aimou recalled stories about the Night Race back at the Wind Source Highlands; she softly asked, "Does everyone regret gaining eternal life?"

The question stumped Bode; he pondered for a moment before replying, "Perhaps."

Bode felt his answer was too vague, so he continued, "Most often, people don't truly know what they want.

Humans are such; pitiful short-lived creatures, some spend a lifetime searching for what they really desire, while others die without an answer.

To keep searching, we start chasing time, seeking what we want and live for in the eternal time."

Aimou asked, "Have you found it?"

"I have, yet I haven't," Bode smiled, shifting the topic to Aimou, "You're a fortunate child; your father paid the price for you, so fate does not toy with you."

Bode blessed, "May you find what you live for in the long course of time."

"Thank you."

"It's nothing; I should be the one thanking you."

Aimou did not understand, "Why?"

Bode relaxed, "I haven't felt this kind of atmosphere for a long time, and this atmosphere is caused by you."

"It reminds me of my family… although I can't remember how they looked," Bode continued in a regretful tone, "It's a pity Serey isn't here; he enjoys this too."

Remembering Serey's state, Aimou waved her hand repeatedly, "I'd rather not; his presence only leads everyone to get drunk."

Bode complained quietly, "True… it's strange indeed, Serey muddled through life for so many years, but lately, he's suddenly become clear-headed, not knowing what he's up to."

Bode stopped dwelling; he had no energy to worry about such things, and considering Serey's past deeds, he felt it wouldn't be a shame if the guy died out there.

"Make some space!"

From the kitchen came a shout; Bologue wobbled in carrying a large plate of roast chicken, its aroma filling the room.

Smelling the fragrance, Aimou was surprised, "You can cook?"

Bologue confidently picked up a cookbook, "Is it difficult? Just strictly follow the procedure."

Bologue believed this was one of his expert traits, quickly mastering skills as long as there was a manual to follow.

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