dhibooks Chapter 354
Chapter 354
In a villa that looked luxurious to the point of exaggeration, Karl walked slowly along the long corridor.
There is a thick dark red carpet under his feet, and various masterpieces are hung on the wall every three to five steps—Carl can’t explain why, but he knows every piece of work hung on the wall, And you can recognize at a glance which of these works are genuine and which are fakes.
As far as he has seen so far, these oil paintings are mixed.
He has seen all the memories related to Clark in his mind, or at least he has seen most of them. However, the return of these memories did not allow him to understand his situation, but made him more confused.
Death was by his side from beginning to end, but he didn't speak much, as if she had exhausted all the words she had accumulated for a long time before.
And once the words were exhausted, she didn't know how to speak.
The room was so quiet that there was no wind, and all the windows were tightly closed, which made the luxurious and empty room look like a strangely large and beautiful cage.
Such a cage will always give people an illusion...
It seems that although life in the cage is not very satisfactory, the world outside the cage is even dirtier.
It's like everything in the cage is taken for granted-not necessarily right or righteous, or making people who know these things nod and smile, with approving eyes, but just like the scars on the ground that was ravaged by a tornado as it should.
Carl walked slowly along the corridor.
He wasn't breathing or his heart was beating, but there was a certain rhythm to his steps.
After reaching a certain point, he suddenly stopped.
"These things I saw, all this." He asked Death gently, "Is it all you want to show me?"
"...Maybe you have heard the legend that people look back on their own life before they die, and some places call this a revolving lantern." Death also replied gently, "What you see is not what I saw. I chose, I just made you a special... how should I put it, a small upgrade."
Carl made a slightly puzzled expression.
He is really gentle and handsome when he deliberately makes such a social expression, the kind of gentle and handsome that you can feel that you are thoughtful and accommodated.
The best part is that when he does this, he's actually less like a man and more like a dependable kid who needs time to grow up.
No one could say no to those blue eyes that were halfway between a boy and a man.
So more gentle, as gentle as a water wave gently brushing away the water lily, death whispered in his ear:
"It's okay to change some insignificant details. I can project it into reality. In some moments, your present can overlap with the past. Like the joke you made with Clark, you can It's okay to let him vaguely feel your presence."
Karl nodded, and continued to walk slowly.
Since what he saw was indeed just a memory, there was nothing to panic and worry about, the memory would always proceed in the order that it had happened.
He spends more time on the oil paintings on the wall and the furnishings that are constantly changing along the way. Those ornaments with different styles coexist, and Karl can see the thought that the designer has spent on it.
Although these thoughts are just to make these ornaments barely harmonious.
Cloud can do better than that unknown designer.
...Who is Claude?
This question made Carl pause in his steps, and a vague image of a man emerged in his mind. His hair seemed to be dirty blond, his eyes were light brown, and he couldn't remember the shape of his face, but his facial features seemed to be very beautiful.
Thinking of him is not like thinking of a very close friend, but it is like thinking of the small shop downstairs that has been open for more than ten years, rain or shine, and you have bought breakfast for more than ten years, rain or shine.
I don't necessarily love and understand him very much, but he makes Karl feel familiar and warm.
Following these warm touches, other fragments gradually scattered, and some fragments flashed by, and Karl smiled at those fragments.
"New friend?" Death guessed curiously, "Old friend?"
"Not a friend," Carl replied, pausing, then rephrasing, "Not really a friend."
"I want to hear from you."
"I don't think much of it either, I just remember he was like a tailor, or a designer or something." Karl wasn't sure, "We didn't have much communication, actually, before he worked for me, I had a good idea of him. Hardly the slightest impression."
"And he knows you. Of course."
"Yes, he said that he only had this kind of guess before making clothes for me. After getting close to him, he was sure it was me... That uniform is really too tight! Although I don't feel embarrassed at all."
"Then?"
"No more, that's all. We didn't have any heart-to-heart exchanges, and his attitude towards me was his attitude towards work, but with more respect than work. Sometimes, I guess, he didn't think about it. Let our relationship go further, become my friend or something. But later, he still gave up." Carl thought for a while, "I thought about why he gave up for a long time, but I never got the answer."
"You are so narcissistic." Death smiled softly.
"Is this considered narcissism? Is it not? I really think I am a very good person. Admitting my excellence and guarding against my arrogance are two different things, and I can tell the difference."
"Just because you're nice doesn't mean everyone wants to get to know you."
"I know, and that's the problem: He wanted to know me, really, but he gave up."
"Want to know why he gave up?"
Carl paused.
He didn't know when he had reached the end of the corridor, his destination was ahead, and the death question made him stop just right.
He was a little hesitant, a little curious, and a little bit scared and nodded.
Claude walked towards Professor X with a wine glass in his hand.
Carl found that he was in Xavier College now. He didn't know how long it was, but it was a night with few stars and the wind was blowing. He heard noisy talking and laughing, and saw many pictures. familiar face.
Professor X stayed not far away, smiling and watching the laughing people on the lawn.
When Claude walked towards him, he passed a beautiful girl who leaned against a tree and drank alone. Karl couldn't help staring at her, feeling a strange joy in his heart.
As if sensing something, she raised her head and smiled faintly.
"If I fly in the sky now, I'll fall for her." Carl murmured.
"You didn't," said Death, regretfully.
"I know...I know. I know how different these feelings are," Carl said wistfully.
He listened to Claude.
"...No...we are not friends, Professor, not as you imagined." Claude said.
His voice sounded gaygay what the heck.It's not that he is gay, but his tone of voice fits the stereotype of gay people.
"Do you have any dissatisfaction with him?" Professor X's voice was filled with surprise even though it was steady, "Forgive my curiosity, Claude, but this kind of situation is not common."
"You mean, you are so close to him, Superman, but you haven't become friends with him that you can introduce to other friends?" Claude laughed, and this laughter didn't sound so gay, but like A grand rogue who only appears in movies, "I don't have any dissatisfaction with him, Professor, but I don't think it's necessary."
"You're a funny guy. It's a shame you didn't grow closer."
"I don't think so." Claude replied, "Aren't there few interesting people in this world?"
"Are you not interesting enough? Magneto is not interesting enough? Isn't Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch not interesting enough? Is Stark not interesting enough? Or Wayne is not interesting enough? Even if all of you are boring, isn't Deadpool interesting enough?"
"The problem for him was never that there were too few interesting people, or that he had too many friends. Quite the contrary, his problem was that there were too many interesting people and friends, and that he took everyone too seriously. "
"What an ego draining thing it is to be in a close relationship."
His sighs are lamented like an aria:
"Even if he enjoys giving, is his time, energy, and love a constant flow?"
"In my heart, he is already my friend, so as a friend, let him keep the share that should be given to me for himself."
Carl was stunned for a moment.
He kind of wanted to say something, but finally just smiled and said, "He sounds like a showman who thinks too much."
But having said that, he still felt that his heart was gradually warming up.
"Go back," said Death, "to see what you really want to see."
Karl walked back along the way he had come, and the girl leaning against the tree was still alone, feeling like... a vigorous leopard resting lazily.
He stopped in front of her.
"Perhaps you could kiss her," said Death.
"That's too ungentlemanly." Carl declined the offer.
But he also didn't want to leave her prematurely, not because of the warmth and security of being by her side, but because leaving her made him feel sad and guilty.
"It would be nice if we were in love, although I would be a tough relationship if we were: we're both too tough," Carl told her. "I can feel that I'm not loving in the way I love women You, you didn't love me in a way that you love a man. It allowed us to indulge each other, so it became very friendly."
"I'm just saying this because...if we're in love, I can kiss you secretly without you knowing."
He took two steps forward, lowered his head, and put his cheek on the back of the girl's hand.
When he raised his head again, he was already back where he was at the beginning.
That villa was so luxurious, so empty, so cold, so cruel.
Standing at the end of the corridor, he heard small, rapid swallowing and breathing, the slight movement of skin against fabric, the lingering sound of tears dripping and being sucked by the carpet.
Death said, "Are you sure you're ready?"
Carl didn't answer.
Slowly, he walked towards the voice.