You're too kind, Old Man.
The abandoned house fell silent again. Katon's eyes had closed for good.
And his last words had been a heartfelt expression of thanks. Fu Qian felt deeply honored.
That wasn't the only thing worth marveling at. His answer to the question of euthanasia had been astonishing, too.
"You can do it whenever you feel it's necessary." The words sounded casual, but the confidence behind them was absolute.
Being caught unprepared, unable to respond—almost every living thing instinctively hated that.
Even the Higher Beings he'd encountered so far, no matter how strong or weak they were, had shown some degree of independent will.
But what Katon had just said went far beyond that, to an extreme degree.
Not only could he be euthanized, it could happen at any time Fu Qian deemed appropriate.
Combined with his explicit admission that he had a plan for his death, it showed absolute confidence.
In other words, no matter who Fu Qian was, what his intentions were, or what abilities he had... even after accounting for all the risks posed by those variables, the Old Man had still granted him the freedom to decide, certain that it wouldn't affect the final outcome.
For a moment, Fu Qian seemed to understand the legendary acceptance of death: everything was permitted.
It wasn't just a feeling, either. He could clearly see that Katon, lying there, was breathing more and more slowly.
That was efficient. No wonder he'd been saving up decades' worth of sleepiness.
Breathing, muscles, even the movement of the eyes—though his perception wasn't as convenient as usual, Fu Qian could still easily distinguish the changes in a body as it fell asleep.
And the old man lying there now unquestionably fit the description.
After completing so many strange checklist items,