Luv Letter (Love Letter)
The moment John opened his eyes.
The basement of his Kansas farm remains in a state of time frozen in the moments before he left.
A water droplet, about to fall, clung to the cuff of a shirt hanging on a rope.
The insects that were originally flying in the air were now stuck in the air as if they were glued in place.
Then, his gaze slowly lowered.
John saw Joe and Martha.
Martha knelt on the hard wooden board beside Old Joe.
She gripped his stiff shoulders tightly with both hands, leaning forward, maintaining a swaying, calling posture.
Beside the two of them, an overturned glass was hanging from the corner of the table.
Several quick-acting emergency pills and the sprayed water mist remained frozen in mid-air, motionless.
"..."
Just as John was about to say something, an incongruous sound suddenly rang out from the dining table not far away.
"Sizzle--"
The steak was searing on a hot iron plate.
This was followed by the light clinking of metal cutlery and the sound of large mouthfuls of chewing.
Accompanying these noises was a series of video game sound effects.
"Damn it, I died on the third level again! Who was the idiot who designed this stupid level design? I'm going to fire him!"
John stepped down a step and looked strangely into the deepest part of the basement.
The corner that was originally piled with sacks and tires now has an incongruously placed, luxurious long table.
Three pure silver candlesticks stood in the center of the table, next to a plate of juicy, steaming hot grilled beef ribs.
Lucifer, dressed in a flamboyant burgundy tuxedo, sat upright at the dining table.
With his right hand casually holding a sterling silver knife, he slowly and methodically put the sliced beef into his mouth.
His left hand held a smartphone with a little devil-themed case, his thumb frantically tapping on the screen.
On the screen, a pixelated figure wearing a black Cloak is scrambling through a maze full of traps.
A leaping golden halo followed closely behind.
Lucifer didn't even blink. With a casual flick of his long thumb, the little man turned into a dead end and was instantly swallowed by the halo.
Soon, a large red banner popped up in the center of the screen:
May God bless you.
"Damn it! It's my deadbeat dad again?! Damn it, I'm going to drag the entire game department to Hell!"
Then, he seemed to realize something, and his demeanor instantly changed, as if he had become a different person.
He gracefully set down his wine glass, stretched out his arms, leaned back, and gave a deep stretch.
Then, those cynical eyes turned in the candlelight and lightly landed on John lips were twitching.
"Oops..."
Lucifer raised the last syllable slightly, then deliberately dragged it out:
"You've finally decided to come back. I've been waiting for... so... long..."
As he spoke, he turned his head, a mocking smile playing on his lips.
"I didn't expect you to come back earlier than I anticipated, within three months."
Twenty-eight or twenty-nine days?
"If it weren't for waiting for that amazing gift you'd bring back, I'd probably be watching toy dancing at one of the top nightclubs in Los Angeles by now."
He sat up from the bench, resting his chin on his hands, a sly glint in his eyes:
"Now that you're back... presumably you've already gotten your hands on the World Weight, right?"
John ignored his pointless chatter and stepped forward, very consciously pulling out a wooden chair directly opposite him.
He plopped down with a blank expression.
Immediately afterwards, he stretched out his right hand flat, palm facing up, and then slowly pushed it forward.
A layer of golden ripples immediately spread through the air.
Soon, a warm golden light rose from his palm, then swirled and converged.
A burst of light rapidly condensed and solidified in the center of John's palm, eventually forming a golden key with a surface shimmering with five-colored light.
"Oh my..."
Lucifer looked at the key, a hint of barely concealed excitement flashing in his eyes.
He then licked his lower lip, casually grabbed a napkin from the table, and slowly wiped the remaining meat juice from the corner of his mouth.
Then place the silver knife and fork side by side on the right side of the plate.
"Look at this perfect color..."
Lucifer leaned forward, extended two long fingers, and pointed at John:
"Come, my dear partner, as your creditor, you must follow the rules and hand over half of the World Weight to me."
However, John frowned.
"If I remember correctly, this clause wasn't in the original contract."
John began to speak.
Upon hearing John's words, Lucifer raised an eyebrow in surprise, his smile growing even more playful.
"Oh? My dear partner... are you planning to break your contract in front of the Lord of Hell? That's rather unseemly..."
"I always respect contracts that are written down in black and white."
John stared directly into Lucifer's red eyes, his expression unchanged.
"It was clearly written on that parchment that I would help you cross boundaries and seize World Weight."
However, none of the above clauses define who owns the seized property.
The air suddenly became quiet.
Lucifer sat on the bench, stunned for a moment, then leaned down and looked at John.
There was no sign of anger or embarrassment on his face; instead, he covered his forehead and burst into a somewhat neurotic laugh.
"Ha! Hahahaha... Oh my, this is hilarious!"
Lucifer wiped away the tears of laughter from the corners of his eyes, as if he had found something amusing, his eyes filled with a rare amusement:
"I never expected that your brain, which has been stuck on the farm for eighteen years, would actually be able to see through the loopholes..."
He then straightened up, spread his hands, and looked completely at ease.
"Yes, I didn't explain that the parchment was just a rough draft; I didn't delve too deeply into the details."
Then, he stopped laughing, and pointed gently at Old Joe lying on the ground with one finger:
"However, the World Weight itself is the hard currency used to maintain judgment; only it can sustain your father's life."
Without it as a toll, even if I were the Lord of Hell, I couldn't do anything!
As he spoke, Lucifer took out a delicate silver pocket watch from the inner pocket of his tuxedo.
Then, right in front of John, the watch cover popped open with a "click".
The dial has no markings or gears, only a swirling mass of thick, pure black mist, about the size of a fingernail.
"Your father's heart is fragile; the rules of this universe, causality, fatalism—"
Call him whatever you want, but it's decided that Jonathan Kent must die this summer.
This will cause you to grow into the person you're supposed to be in a predetermined script amidst the pain of losing your father.
Lucifer teased the swirling black mist inside his pocket watch with his fingertips:
"I used a wisp of my power to capture this deadly 'time correction' in the table and pressed the pause button for you."
But maintaining this thing requires fuel, advanced fuel, also known as World Authority.
Demons never do anything for nothing. Since I have chosen to alter fate, I must pay the price to the laws of the underworld.
So, that half of the World Weight is the penalty, and as for the tiny bit extra... well, that'll just be my service fee.
Lucifer raised his eyes, blinked innocently at John, and a triumphant smile curled at the corners of his lips:
"So, the key is yours, do with it as you please. But... without it, I really can't help you anymore."
"Fuck..."
John looked at Old Joe on the ground, and at Martha's tear-streaked face, and felt something tug at his heart.
He was helpless.
Originally, he planned to find an opportunity to send Martha and Jonathan to live in the Boys world.
But to do so, one must possess sufficient Power of the World as the material for [ Writing ] to Burning the destinies of the two individuals.
This Power of the World is absolutely massive, accumulated from more than just one world.
The quantity originally marked as "1" will be halved by this demon at the start.
The world ahead will only be filled with more dangers, making it increasingly difficult to seize the Power of the World.
"Damn it, Satan is Satan."
John closed his eyes and let out a long sigh.
"Indeed, not a single word from the devil can be trusted."
Upon hearing this, Lucifer on the other side was not angry at all.
Instead, she gracefully stood up, gently placed her right hand over her heart, her left hand behind her back, and bowed slightly to John in a standard bow.
He then raised his head, revealing a set of clean, even teeth:
"Thank you for the compliment, esteemed Mr. Kent. For a professional devil like him, this is undoubtedly the highest praise."
"Hold..."
John had never seen such a shameless person.
I've never seen anyone so despicable, yet I can't even beat them.
He pressed his temples, veins throbbing, and exhaled sharply:
"Call..."
John made up his mind, grasped the golden World Key in his palms, and exerted force.
"Snap!"
A crisp sound.
John snapped the golden key in two.
At the break, countless glittering gold dust burst forth and danced in the air.
John swung one half forward with a jerk, then threw it heavily at Lucifer across the long table.
"Oh... thank you so much for your generous gift."
Lucifer casually extended two fingers and pinched the broken key between them.
Then he held it up in front of his eyes and waved it happily, his eyes full of satisfaction:
"That's right, that's a good son for his father..."
He shoved the broken key into his inside pocket and patted his chest.
"But to be fair, you should be glad that I'm a devil who values professional ethics and principles."
If it were those uncultured country bumpkins, like Beelzebub or Azazel, those two bloodthirsty idiots...
They'll not only steal all your keys, they'll also rip your father's soul out, skewer it on iron skewers, and roast it.
As he spoke, Lucifer flicked his index finger casually across the silver pocket watch.
"Bang!"
With a very faint muffled sound.
Deep within the pocket watch, the wisp of lacquer mist was instantly dispersed by a tremendous force.
On the muddy ground, the deathly aura in Old Joe's heart dissipated, and his previously slow-beating heart began to pound again with force.
"Phew... Done!"
Lucifer casually tossed the empty silver pocket watch onto the dining table.
Then he grabbed the bottle of whiskey on the table, tilted his head back, and took a big gulp:
"Oh, and since you were so agreeable, I'll give you a bonus piece of free information."
Lucifer's flippant expression softened slightly.
"The 'script' you're carrying is itself a huge problem."
That... why do I have a bad feeling about it?
Just then, John retracted the remaining half of the golden key into his body. He looked up, his brow furrowed.
What script?
"The main events of the multiverse, the macro-narrative, or rather... the trajectory of destiny written by those supreme gods."
Lucifer strolled slowly through the narrow basement.
Do you remember what I told you before you left?
"In this universe, there should have been a perfect saint who wore a blue tight-fitting red cloak and had an 'S' drawn on his chest and was born out of nowhere."
Then, like an innocent Boy Scout, they preach that set of nonsensical truths and justice.
Therefore, in the original script, Jonathan Kent had to die at his age.
Only in this way can we ensure that he is on the right path, forcibly bound by the highest standards of morality and humanity.
At this point, Lucifer chuckled:
"And then? You freak, your mother actually brought him back to life?"
This is tantamount to tearing a huge gap in the established cause and effect of the multiverse.
Those gods, watchdogs, and judges who wander at the ends of time and space will eventually come knocking on this door, following this rift in fate.
John sat silently in the wooden chair.
"Then let them come."
"I'll kill them one by one."
He spoke calmly.
"Oh... you have guts! I like you just the way you are!"
Lucifer didn't refute his arrogance, but instead laughed heartily and casually patted John on the shoulder.
The tap seemed gentle, but John suddenly felt Dodge mark deep inside his shoulder blade.
Like a thin, invisible thread, it was connected to his body.
"Don't worry, with me keeping an eye on things, those 'old guys' won't dare to openly stick their hands in."
And... please remember our promise!
Lucifer smiled and withdrew his hand, his body floating back two steps, hovering half an inch above the ground.
"The maintenance cycle is three months."
Three months later, the wound on your father's body will reopen, and then new firewood will be needed to heal this wound."
He blinked and held up two fingers in front of his forehead:
"However, I'm very busy, so I won't come next time."
There's a whole line of succubi waiting for me in Hell.
There's this crazy woman named Lilith, she's got a terrible temper, and I've stood her up four times already...
If I don't go back and pay my taxes, she'll definitely burn down my seventh palace.
As he spoke, Lucifer put his hands into his suit pockets, and his figure began to ripple with semi-transparent waves.
"Oh, by the way, I placed an anchor point on you, it's that little thing on your shoulder."
He then grinned, revealing a triumphant smile:
When the time comes, you'll disappear with a 'whoosh'—
As for which world it is, the [ Book of Destiny ] you possess might be of some help...
Good luck, my dear employee... oh no, partner.
Before he finished speaking, Lucifer raised his hands and clasped them together in front of his chest, palms facing each other, and then slammed them together forcefully!
"Boom--!"
The blockage in time and space resumed its flow in an instant.
The original three sterling silver candlesticks, steak, and strong rosemary scent all vanished into thin air the moment the applause ended.
The dining table revealed its original rough appearance, piled with rusty farm tools.
The glass, suspended in mid-air, suddenly plummeted under the pull of gravity.
"Bang!"
Glistening shards of glass flew everywhere, water churned, and a few quick-acting first-aid pills slid into a crack in the wall due to inertia.
"Joe--!!"
A cry.
Martha knelt on the ground, leaning forward, shaking Old Joe's stiff shoulders with both hands:
Jonathan! Open your eyes and look at me! Don't leave me!
Time stood still for three months, but she had no idea.
In her mind, Old Joe was lying stiffly on the ground, the emergency medicine in her hand still not in his mouth.
But at that very moment, Old Joe, lying in Martha's arms, suddenly arched his back as if he had been electrocuted!
"Ho--!!"
Old Joe took a deep breath in Martha's arms.
At that moment, my heart, which was about to stop, contracted violently and then began to beat strongly!
Thump! Thump! Thump!
With the heart restarting, Old Joe's bluish-purple cheeks visibly faded, regaining their rosy color.
Old Joe's unfocused pupils also trembled suddenly.
She slowly opened her eyes at Martha's call.
His gaze first broke free from the initial blankness and suffocation, then stared blankly at the dim earthen roof.
The focus then shifted to Martha's face, which was close at hand and streaked with tears.
"Cough cough... Mar... Martha?"
Old Joe's voice was a little weak, and he turned his head to the side with some difficulty.
Looking at the shattered glass and first-aid supplies scattered on the ground, he seemed to understand something, and then let out a long sigh of relief:
"Why... why are you crying like this? Stop shaking me... you're going to shake my bones off..."
Martha's crying stopped abruptly.
She stared blankly at her husband's eyes as they refocused, feeling the beating heart beneath her palm.
She collapsed instantly, slumping against Old Joe, burying her face in Old Joe neck, and sobbing uncontrollably.
"Joe... you stopped breathing just now... you scared me to death, you know that...!"
"I... I'm not breathing anymore?"
Old Joe rubbed his temples, his voice full of bewilderment.
"I... I'm perfectly fine, aren't I? Okay, Martha, stop crying, the ground is cold, help me up..."
John watched all this quietly from the corner.
He watched his parents embracing each other on the muddy ground.
Listening to my mother's quiet sobs, a sound of relief after surviving the ordeal, my father's clumsy, hoarse words of comfort, and...
His previously taut shoulders completely relaxed.
"Okay, okay... I'm fine. Are you there, John?"
Old Joe was calling him.
"They're here!"
John straightened his clothes and walked over with a smile.
" John, where did you get this black trench coat...? I don't think you were wearing this just now?"
(500,000 words finally, still not much traffic)
(This is purely for love, please.)