Old Man of the Ruined House, Madness Flame burning to ash.
Lying in his father's old bed, Katon's consciousness was fading away, slipping into oblivion—the exact opposite of what his father had pursued.
Yet he still hadn't fallen asleep, and he still hadn't responded to the witness's words.
"Human will and flesh are both so fragile that you can see all kinds of fallacies born of fear. But fallacies aren't without value. In my view, the idea of a righteous man is quite interesting."
Fu Qian didn't seem to mind. He continued casually.
He hadn't been talking nonsense just now. Given his extensive experience being interrogated, leading people astray came as easily as breathing.
As he'd said earlier, one of the things that made this mission so difficult was precisely how strong the person involved's will was.
When it came to this final wish for death, the old man trusted only his own judgment and refused to reveal what core problem was troubling him.
That meant even someone like him, who wanted to help, had to feel his way around blindly, narrowing things down step by step.
But the old man's unyielding attitude wasn't without value. For instance, it offered a direction to explore: he knew that thing was harmful.
That one point alone was almost enough to rule out the performances of those three characters just now.
All in all, feeling around blindly had started to pay off. Something had surfaced on its own.
In fact, when dealing with an old man of such iron will, one who no longer feared death, this seemed to be the only way to learn what secret he was hiding: make the secret speak for itself.
Of course, that alone wasn't enough to make the secret keep talking.
His opponent wasn't some villain