Silence descended without warning.
Only the sound of the desolate wind echoed in the distance.
Huai Shi remained silent and did not answer.
But he was not thinking. Rather, he had fallen into a daze.
It was as though he had heard a similar question somewhere before, as though he had pondered similar doubts countless times already, yet had never noticed it himself.
The feeling was strangely peculiar.
He seemed to hear the laughter of some black-hearted woman by his ear. He could almost picture her lying on the sofa, watching television.
Watching him on the screen.
Like a proctor watching students enter an examination room.
Watching his unease before the papers were handed out, his panic during the test, and his confusion as he put pen to paper.
Yet now, when The Fool's question was placed before him, he realized that the unease and anxiety in his heart had gradually faded away.
All that remained was calm.
And that... one and only answer.
Prosperity did not arise from nothing, nor did flourishing exist without cause.
Alchemy said that miracles were conserved. For every gain, there was a loss, and there could never be a miracle born from nothing.
Then what had allowed the Present Realm to endure until now, allowed all this prosperity to flourish, allowed the Astronomical Society to surpass countless eras of the past and stand against the Abyss?
Once the final layer of paper over the window had been pierced, the answer was already ready to emerge.
—Hell!
The realization on his face made The Fool's gaze stir. He had not expected Huai Shi to come so close to the answer, but immediately afterward, his anticipation only grew.
"Looks like you understand already, don't you? Other than Hell, where else could supply such endless consumption? Other