Yarra's Adventure Notes-Chapter 1301 - 87 Pannis’s Room

As time passed further into the night, the lights one by one extinguished, leaving No. 6 Fox Street in deep silence after the guests had finally returned, greeted by brief disarray. The girls had then returned to their respective rooms, falling into a deep sleep. However, unbeknownst to them, if someone were to look from the street at this moment, they would notice that one window remained brightly lit, indicating that its occupant had not gone to sleep.

The room belonged to Pannis, which didn’t require an explanation, as everyone who had ever entered knew it was markedly unique in this mansion filled with girls.

Aside from Princess Freya, the lodgers of this mansion were not typically the types who put much importance on room decor. Despite their innate femininity, which impelled them not to completely disregard their rooms’ appearances—even Catherine, whose room’s decor was simple, still maintained an aesthetic appeal. However, Pannis was different—his room struck anyone who entered with its stark efficiency: a bed, a desk set, a wardrobe, and beyond that, no other furnishings. The girls had urged him more than once to add more furniture, saying the room looked too bare, but Pannis had silenced their concerns with his reason, "The more things there are, the harder they are to tidy. I’m lazy; unless you plan to clean it daily for me?"

Thus, from then on, the girls had reluctantly accepted his habit; whenever they spoke in his room, the echoing voices were no longer mentioned.

If previously Pannis’s room had been simply furnished yet still felt alive, it had now completely transformed. In addition to its simplicity, the room now lacked any signs of life, as if it hadn’t been lived in for a long time. The bedding was neatly folded, a large sheet covering everything to ward off dust, and the floor was spotlessly clean, not even the area beneath the bed and wardrobe was missed.

Upon opening the wardrobe, aside from the evening dress worn that day, there were only a few casual outfits neatly hung on a crossbeam. At the bottom of the wardrobe, his usual adventure backpack lay plumply stuffed, seemingly ready for travel, and it seemed the room’s original contents might have been packed inside. Next to the backpack, an ancient one-handed sword rested against it, its black leather scabbard polished to a shine from frequent friction. The metal hand guard at the hilt was dull, countless cleanings having dulled its metallic luster, while the grip was tightly and meticulously wrapped with new cloth, offering a comfortable hold when gripped.

On the desk, a few novels and documents used daily were separated and tied with string into two stacks in the upper right corner of the desk; miscellaneous papers were also piled together in a corner of a drawer, and the pens that were usually in a pen holder were bundled together and laid in another corner to prevent dust accumulation from long disuse.

Beyond these, no other pieces of decor could be found in the room. It appeared as though the room’s owner deliberately erased all personal traces, reluctant even to leave room for others to remember him from the sight of the room.

In such a room, Pannis had not gone to sleep. Although he had taken off the formal attire he wore for the evening dinner and had it neatly hung in the wardrobe, he had not changed into pajamas; instead, he had put on his usual black swordsman attire and a black trench coat. His face bore none of its usual lethargic expression, now completely devoid of any hint of sleepiness.

At this moment, Pannis was sitting in front of his desk, and right in the center of the desk in front of him, there were several sheets of paper filled with handwriting. The neat and clear handwriting reflected the writer’s determination and resolution. The letter was not yet finished, but he did not continue writing. He wasn’t even holding a pen; the pen was carelessly placed on a pen holder on the inkwell. His hands were pillowed behind his head, his back leaning against the chair, as he silently stared into the night sky outside the window.

After a moment of silence, Pannis reached out to open a small drawer on the side of the desk. A bulging purse was hidden in the drawer. Opening the purse, the golden light of the coins, the white light of the Mithril Coins, and the purple light of the Magicsteel Coins shot out; three enticing glimmers emerged from the purse. Despite Catherine and the others’ numerous threats over the years to manage Pannis’s finances for him to prevent him from wildly squandering money as he had done in the past, they never actually did so. They did not hold back Pannis’s share of the spoils. Judging by the brightness of the purple light from the purse, Pannis hadn’t spent much of his share at all; most of it was stored in the purse, likely more than what each of the young ladies held in cash. Pannis gently caressed his lips with one hand, while the other was in the purse, touching the shiny coins, absentmindedly pondering something, his facial expression unchanging, yet the emotions reflected in his eyes revealed that his mood alternated between joy and melancholy.

A "ding" sound came as he rubbed the coins with slightly more force, causing them to collide and the crisp sound to be distinctly heard in the quiet of the night. Pannis’s movement stiffened, he vigilantly closed his eyes, his ears twitching slightly as he carefully listened to the sounds within the mansion. Fortunately, the situation he feared did not occur; the unique sound did not wake any of the sleeping young ladies, which allowed Pannis to breathe a sigh of relief. However, this also caused him to lose his initial mood, and he wryly closed the drawer before picking up the pen, now saturated with ink.

"I can’t delay any longer," Pannis said to himself, holding the pen, "If I keep delaying, I might not have the heart to leave. Oh, how fragile my will is indeed."

With a self-deprecating smile, Pannis bent down beside the desk and wrote the conclusion of the letter.

"I am a ghost from the past, just a phantom carrying regret and self-reproach, wandering this world, belonging to the past, while you, you belong to the present and the future."

"We were never from the same world. A person like me will eventually be buried in the dust of the past, while you will reach the summits of life in the future. Between us, just as these past years, there may be fleeting encounters, but we will never share a future."

"Because I simply have no future."

"So, please forgive me, and then, please forget me, please bless me." freēwēbnovel.com

"I, too, will bless you, hoping you find the happiness that belongs to you in the future."