Elijah returned home with a hint of fatigue, settling onto the sofa with a pensive expression. A suspicion had been brewing in his mind, one so radical that he hesitated to accept it. If the dragon-patterned staff represented his awakened item after hatching, and there were many such items within the scroll in his mind, could it be that he had the potential to awaken multiple times?
Since the resurgence of spiritual energy, only two cases of multiple awakenings had been documented in the past century. Both individuals shared a common trait: their awakened items were quite ordinary. The first person hatched a sickle and a keyboard, while the second awakened a squirrel and a pair of scissors. Even though dual awakenings were rare, and the Ink Pavilion had invested resources in cultivating such talents, the results were ultimately disappointing. The cost was too high, and the awakened items were not impressive enough to justify the effort.
But his was different. The dragon-patterned staff looked incredibly cool. If his guess was correct, his future path might be much smoother.
As night gradually fell, Elijah found himself lost in thought, gazing at the starlight outside the window. Unusually for him, his normally resolute demeanor showed a hint of vulnerability, and his straight back seemed to sag slightly, as if burdened by some unseen weight. But this lasted only a few seconds. Elijah's expression shifted, and he suddenly held his breath, leaning back into the shadows to become one with the darkness.
Even with the moonlight, the room was not too bright, but his position was indiscernible, his presence obscured. For a moment, the room was plunged into absolute silence. Time ticked by.
Suddenly, there was a faint noise at the door. The doorknob turned gently, opening a crack. By the moonlight, a young figure could be seen slipping in silently, closing the door behind him and pressing against the wall, motionless.
Half a minute later, a squad of guards ran past the window, vigilantly scanning the surroundings as if searching for something, before disappearing into the distance. The figure at the door finally let out a sigh of relief, his body relaxing as he slumped to the floor, coughing softly.
He seemed not to notice Elijah. After resting for a moment, he struggled to his feet, looked around by the moonlight, and upon finding no one, made his way to the sofa to tend to a gruesome wound on his chest. The wound was deep, likely from a knife, with flesh rolled back.
The young man frowned slightly, looking around as if assessing his surroundings. "The medicinal wine is on the second shelf in front of you," came Elijah's calm voice from behind him.
His body tensed, but before he could move, a dagger was pressed against his neck, not in a threatening manner, but with enough force to pierce the skin.
Half a centimeter of the blade was embedded in his flesh. "It's best not to move," Elijah warned. "The dagger is close to your carotid artery; a slight push, and you'll bleed out. Cleaning the floor is a hassle."
Elijah frowned, seemingly recalling an unpleasant memory. The young man remained still, whispering, "I only seek medicine, not to harm."
"Oh, the medicinal wine is on the second shelf in front," Elijah repeated earnestly.
...
The young man fell silent again, maintaining his position. They were at an impasse once more, the blood from his neck dripping onto the floor with a soft 'tick' 'tick' sound echoing in the dark room.
"Why don't you get the medicine?" Elijah asked, concerned. "Your injury is severe."
The young man's face had turned pale from blood loss, and his body trembled slightly, but he couldn't move because of the dagger at his neck. He saw the medicine, and the bandages too, but the problem was...
You could at least remove the knife.
"I feel much better; no need for medicine," the young man said slowly. "Do you intend to kill me?"
Elijah shook his head earnestly. "Killing outside the City of Sin is illegal."
Hearing this, the young man let out a slight sigh of relief, his tensed muscles relaxing a bit. "The mountains are high, and the roads are long. I owe you a life; that debt... I will repay."
But Elijah still had no intention of moving the dagger. Instead, after pondering for a few seconds, he asked, "Since you owe me a life, can you commit suicide?"
...
The usually composed young man was taken aback, as if trying to process Elijah's peculiar logic. This was the first time he had encountered such a request.
"I am an assassin. I could kill someone for you for free. How about that?"
The young man struggled again. Elijah nodded. "Alright, please help me by killing you."
It was as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
The young man was on the verge of a breakdown, looking pained, both physically and mentally.
"Why do you insist on my death when we have no grudges?"
He finally voiced his confusion, a question that had been bothering him for a while.
Elijah responded strangely, "Because you snuck into my room at night and dirtied my floor."
"If we were in the City of Sin, you'd be dead the moment you stepped in."
...
"The City of Sin..."
"Are you from the City of Sin?"
The young man realized something, his emotions stirring, but he quickly continued, "Impossible. The City of Sin only has one redemption slot each year. You're too young to have secured it."
"Forget it, no need to dwell on that."
"I accept my fate, go ahead."
With that, the young man resignedly closed his eyes, following the convention of all those about to die, reviewing his life.
But...
After reviewing it for the fifth time, the dagger at his neck still hadn't fallen.
"Why don't you do it?"
The young man couldn't help but ask again.
Elijah looked at him as if he were an idiot. "Killing is illegal outside the City of Sin."
"Then let me go!"
The young man became agitated, anxious.
Elijah shook his head. "I won't."
"Then this is illegal detention, which is also against the law!"
"According to the laws of the Ink Pavilion, it carries a sentence of three years, or 5-8 years for severe cases!"
The young man had an epiphany, suddenly realizing something, speaking quickly, educating Elijah on the law.
Elijah pondered, "How old are you?"
"I'm seventeen, still a minor according to the laws of the Ink Pavilion. If you detain me illegally, the punishment will be even more severe!"
The young man seemed to have found a code to survival, his reasoning becoming clearer, turning the scene into a legal lesson.
"Seventeen, huh?"
"So you haven't awakened yet..."
Elijah slowly lowered the dagger, grinning at the young man, offering a friendly smile. "You can go now. Goodbye."
With that, he waved warmly.