"Ah, big trouble."

Palmer was completely sunk into the sofa, seemingly avoiding problems, and covered his face with a pillow.

"As you mentioned, Vasilina only has you; you’re her whole world, and she can no longer tolerate days without you, which is why she turned so peculiar."

While Bologue spoke, his pen in hand showed no sign of stopping. Clearly, he treated Palmer as an observation sample.

"Didn’t you notice these things before?" Bologue hesitated for a moment, searching for the right word, "Vasilina’s excessive... possessiveness over you?"

Palmer shook his head, "We never really had friends before, let alone infringing on possessiveness, so I’ve never felt it until this time when I returned home and realized something was off."

"Thinking about my engagement..." Palmer said belatedly.

Hearing this, Bologue also realized the problem. He tentatively suggested, "Could it be that your engagement with her is also a manifestation of possession?"

Bologue was surprised by his analysis, "That makes sense; you go to work thousands of miles away, who knows who you’ll encounter, maybe you’ll be enchanted by women outside. Vasilina decided to legally capture you first."

Palmer was nearly completely sunk into the sofa.

"Hmm... what exactly are you worried about?"

Seeing Palmer like this, Bologue asked again, "You love her, she loves you, and you’re engaged. Is there a problem?"

"Yeah, is there a problem?"

A muffled voice sounded from under the pillow. Palmer picked up the cushion and sat up, speaking seriously.

"I think I might not be ready yet."

"Ready to get married?"

"Probably, unlike that bastard Serey, I’m very faithful. When I think that my life is no longer my own but will be fully shared with another person, and I will also have to bear part of her... I’m not saying I’m afraid of bearing responsibility, but if I fail, then what?

Love is fun, but marriage is responsibility."

Palmer mumbled to himself, "I barely crossed that hurdle, thinking I could face Vasilina, but after crossing it, the more profound connection is giving me a headache."

"Indeed, since your connection with Vasilina is already so close, there’s no other direction but marriage." Bologue nodded, earnestly gathering sample data.

"By the way, what are you always writing?" Palmer asked.

"Things you might find offensive; I suggest you don’t ask further." Bologue’s expression remained unchanged.

Palmer sighed deeply and lay back down.

"Suddenly feels like growing up."

"Palmer, you’ve been grown up for many years."

"I mean mentally, from a boy to a man."

"It’s okay; your current mental state seems to still be that of a boy. To transform into a man like Fuen, you have a long way to go."

"Or maybe not such a long way; perhaps a marriage is enough."

"Being tamed into a real man?"

"Tamed, tamed, that word sounds so weird. It sounds like I’m a wild dog running freely," Palmer lowered his voice, "then bound by a warm little nest."

"I saw that saying in a book," Bologue recalled, "I really liked that book."

Bologue continued, "You’re a wild dog, one day you met someone, fell in love with her, felt you couldn’t leave her. To be with her, you choose to give up your freedom, wear the shackles named her, and travel alongside her."

"Sounds awful."

"It’s not awful. The dog’s freedom isn’t truly lost; he chose willingly to wear the shackles, expressing his commitment and dedication to love, like a signature on a contract."

Palmer gazed at the ceiling, somewhat lost in thought. Bologue knew, continuing to talk about such things with this boy is meaningless; he’s still in a state of love, unprepared for marriage. Rather than pressuring his mind with future concerns, it’s better to help him resolve more immediate issues.

Bologue scooted closer, "Vasilina will come sooner or later, right?"

"Correct, although she says she wants to die, I’m already helping her look for a house, letting her live closer to me, or simply moving into the Cultivation Room. As for work arrangements, it depends on the Decision Room."

Bologue knew well, Palmer is someone who likes to complain, but when it comes to actual situations, he is reliable.

"I can actually move out," Bologue looked around the living room, "or you could move out, but that might be more troublesome for you."

"Ha?" Palmer’s voice rose, "We’re partners!"

"Adding one more roommate?" Bologue asked, "Then we might need a bigger place."

Palmer sank completely, seemingly not wanting to discuss anything related to Vasilina for the moment. Understandably—over the years, he and Vasilina maintained a distance that suddenly closing might make him panic.

"I might be afraid of turning into my dad." Palmer said in a low voice.

Palmer was used to freedom, finding it hard to imagine becoming Fuen, someone entirely different.

"Why not talk about work, what’s the situation with the Night Race?" Palmer asked.

"Not great; we kill one whenever one appears, kill two if two appear," through long-term hunting, Bologue had become proficient at killing these bloodthirsty monsters, "Among the Undead I’ve faced, the Night Race is relatively easy to kill; with Silverware and sunlight, their undead traits are significantly curbed."

"Is our next task to continue hunting the Night Race?"

Bologue said, "No, according to Lebius, the Decision Room might want us to handle the Great Rift problem."

Palmer was well aware of the issues lurking in the Great Rift; his expression instantly crumbled—the dying light, the ruins of the Holy City close to complete extinction, and the Calamity soon to break through the seal...

"It’s really a headache, I’m just a Prayer Believer."

Once upon a time, the Tier of Prayer Believers could handle many challenges, but as the situation evolved, throwing Palmer into any event randomly didn’t seem like he had the chance to survive.

Only hope for his luck to intervene.

"Regarding the Great Rift, we don’t need to concern ourselves; the Decision Room is preparing, and we just need to execute," Bologue said, "I’m still very concerned about the Night Race matters; I plan to visit Serey next."

"You might need to wait until tomorrow." Palmer said.

"Why?"

"Haven’t you heard? Serey is sleeping, but not a long-term kind of sleep, literally sleeping," Palmer explained Serey’s recent status to Bologue, "he goes out drinking at night, then comes back to sleep, thus signaling to everyone ’this has nothing to do with me.’"

Palmer checked the time, "Which means Serey is sleeping now, and unless he sleeps enough, no one can wake him up, not to mention the endless corridors within the Undying Club, if he doesn’t voluntarily come out, few can reach his room."

"I also believe this isn’t Serey’s matter," Bologue said, "the Undying Club has its own rules, like completely detaching from the mortal world."

Palmer said, "But as the Night Race Lord, he must know something."

"Yes, I have to find a way to pry something from his mouth."

"But he is Serey, not to mention whether you can beat him, are you sure an interrogation will work?" Palmer mimicked a choking gesture.

"Why fight him?" Bologue was puzzled.

"What else? Do you have other interrogation methods besides violent coercion?"

Palmer never denied that Bologue is a master at turning violence into art, but he thought this master was somewhat overly reliant on that path.

Bologue’s thoughts froze for a moment; he also realized, if he directly asks, Serey would surely keep silent. Using violence? In that case, it’s uncertain who’ll exercise violence on whom; though Serey might be an old guy, he’s still a Night Race Lord, who knows what kind of power he possesses.

A figure nearly forgotten by Bologue suddenly appeared before his eyes. Bologue instinctively felt this person might be the key to open Serey.

"Do you remember the event before the time axis disorder, the raid on Gray Trade Association’s transaction?" Bologue asked.

"Of course I remember." Palmer nodded, that counted as his first experience in a large operation.

With Bologue’s reminder, a similar figure surfaced in Palmer’s nearly forgotten memories.

"You encountered too?" Palmer hesitated.

Bologue said, "Certainly, I regarded it as a coincidence, but it seems like this might indeed be the key to the problem."