At Heronman's mention of the "Brigadier General," Xia Lun felt a flicker of interest, but his expression did not change.
"You asked two questions," he said. "The answer to both is yes."
"How have you survived until now?" Heronman leaned forward without realizing it, urgency creeping into his voice. "Are you immortal?!" Xia Lun deliberately fell silent for a few seconds, then smiled gently. "One question for one question. You've already asked two."
Perhaps because Xia Lun's answer was so staggering, Heronman was now wholly consumed by a mixture of hunger for knowledge and longing for immortality.
In the grip of those intense emotions, he noticed neither White Line beside him nor the uncapped perfume bottle at his feet.
White Line gave Xia Lun a thumbs-up, then spread all five fingers to signal "five." After that, she retreated into the distance like a ghost. Heronman drew a deep breath, and several burst blood vessels appeared at the bottoms of his eyes.
"In dreams, most people make the same choices. Their choices depend only on their relationships and their relative positions. Some people, however, choose differently."
"Through my research, I found that belief, psychological trauma, and metacognition—that is, awareness of one's own capacity for self-understanding—are the three crucial factors behind a subject's unusual choices."
"I must say, humans truly are the most complex and interesting things in this world. I enjoy arguing because it lets me see other people's wounds. The words that can enrage someone in an instant usually strike a sore spot."
"So a good provocation depends on observing someone precisely?" Mavis, who had been silent until now, suddenly asked.
Heronman glanced at Mavis, who had joined the discussion, and at Lorena, who had picked up a stone and was glaring at him from the side. He ignored them