Gun of Ashes

No glory, no wealth, no one will remember you.

You are merely pure weapons, having sacrificed everything for that lofty ideal, but on that night, you turned back to find those you swore to protect had become something even more despicable than beasts.

How sad it is, wouldn’t you agree?”

Abigail smiled as she looked at Lorenzo, having thought that beneath the heavy protective clothing would be an old woman, but in reality, Abigail’s age seemed similar to Lorenzo’s, carrying the approachable demeanor of a doctor, yet at this moment, in Lorenzo’s eyes, she was like a demon.

”You lost everything on that night, your friends, your faith, your past, everything you held onto seemed so ridiculous in the face of human desire.

Indeed, it’s too painful, isn’t it?”

The voice echoed clearly in Lorenzo’s ears, stripping away all the cruel past, one blood-stained, shattered face after another flickered before Lorenzo’s eyes. He whispered.

”Shut up...”

It was a calm voice, yet a discernible hostility slowly circulated within Lorenzo, his bloodshot eyes staring at Abigail, while the woman showed no trace of fear but instead displayed a smile to Lorenzo.

She put on the respirator, and her voice became booming once again.

”Looks like I’ve succeeded in angering you, the memory of the Night of the Holy Arrival is indeed a heavy burden for you, heavy enough that even someone as rational as you couldn’t help but give your will over to wild instincts, right?”

The iron bindings on the chair already showed signs of fracturing; if Abigail had pushed further, there was a possibility that Lorenzo would have broken free from them just now.

”There are not many things that can move you, which shows just how terrifying the memory of the Night of the Holy Arrival is for you.”

”Do you think I deliberately forget that memory because it’s too painful?”

Lorenzo calmed his emotions, his tone remained cold.

Abigail nodded, she said.

”Exactly, though you are a demon hunter carrying Secret Blood, there are still human parts within you, possessing human frailties. Do you still remember Joey?”

”Why are you bringing him up?”

According to known information, Joey was eroded because of the Pseudo Holy Grail within Lorenzo. Initially, Lorenzo didn’t believe this, but he also felt Arthur had no reason to deceive him like this. Yet, when he thought of Moriarty, Lorenzo had a conclusion.

It was Moriarty who did all this; as long as Lorenzo refused to step into the new Order’s conspiracy, more and more people would be ”eroded” because of Lorenzo.

”Before being ’eroded’ by you, Joey’s mental state had a period of instability. During that time, he frequently injected hallucinogen, immersing himself in the illusion realm. Do you think, as an upper-rank knight of the Purification Mechanism, why did he do such a thing?” Abigail asked.

”Because Joey, just like you, has a memory that is too painful to recall, only he didn’t forget that memory. And because he didn’t forget, that damned memory kept torturing him until he began using hallucinogen to escape everything.” She didn’t wait for Lorenzo to answer but continued.

”What memory?”

”That’s patient privacy, I can’t reveal too much, but if you cooperate with the work, I don’t mind gossiping a bit with you.”

Abigail seemed serious, yet her words and attitude were mostly like playing.

”You also have human frailties, and humans are extremely fragile, fragile enough that when tortured by that pain, instinct surpasses will, takes action, seeking survival as much as possible.

The hallucinations brought by hallucinogen are a form of escape and survival for Joey; for that momentary peace, he knew clearly what it was, yet he still injected it without hesitation, and so did you, Mr. Lorenzo Holmes.

The Night of the Holy Arrival was too cruel for you, causing even someone with such a steel will would eventually have to heal yourself by forgetting.”

Abigail’s voice suddenly paused, her voice seemed to carry a hint of laughter.

”It might hurt a bit.”

At this moment, she suddenly pulled the lever, the power turned fully up.

An electric current surged from the machine, releasing along the electrodes embedded under the skin, amidst severe pain, Lorenzo sat firmly on the chair, his face filled with icy coldness had a hint of suffering, and at the same time, colorful hallucinations appeared within his vision.

But soon those hallucinations vanished, after a patch of darkness appeared those seemingly familiar objects.

They were doors, doors that had been sealed in the depths of memory.