Chapter 50 (1/2): Poetry Has No End

“Why…”

Jiang Ming’s voice was hoarse.

“…is it them?”

The smile on Beelzebub’s face faded slightly.

She did not answer immediately. Instead, she reached into the bottom of the popcorn bucket to retrieve a few missed kernels, popping them into her mouth one by one.

Lilith leaned back against the sofa again and crossed her legs, her gaze falling on the television screen.

Silence fermented in the room.

Jiang Ming stood where he was, his fists clenched at his sides, his knuckles turning white. He knew the question was stupid — as stupid as asking a tiger why it ate meat.

The logic of the Angels could not be measured by human morality. In their eyes, humans, even Cleaners, were probably no different from marionettes on a stage.

But he asked anyway.

Because other than asking, there was nothing else he could do at this moment.

“Because…”

“…they are Cleaners.”

She spoke very softly.

“This is the fate of a Cleaner, is it not?” Beelzebub tilted her head, a hint of confusion in her tone as if she did not understand why Jiang Ming would ask something so obvious. “From the moment they sign the Contract, they step onto a path from which there is no turning back.”

She reached out and gripped the air, as if grasping an invisible spear.

“Fighting with weapons bestowed by fate in the turbulent waves called life. Either they are swallowed by the sea…”

Her fingers slowly tightened.

“Or…”

Beelzebub paused, her lips curling into an almost tender arc.

“…they carry out an endless, doomed, but sufficiently magnificent struggle of defiance.”

Her gaze shifted to the television screen, landing on Elvira’s hollow eyes.

“And the end of that struggle is never victory,” she whispered. “It is the performance effect.”

He suddenly remembered the look in Elvira’s eyes when she gripped her Scissors on the rooftop, and that fleeting moment of her hair flying as she straddled Rocinante.

Those real, vivid moments that belonged to the person known as Elvira.

In the eyes of an Angel, were they all just… performance effects?

“So,” his voice grew even hoarser, “to you, all of this is…”

“It is a drama,” Lilith took over, finally shifting her gaze from the screen to Jiang Ming. Her eyes were as calm as a deep, bottomless pool. “We provide the stage, the script, and… some conflict and turning points.”

She paused and added with a precision that was objectively cruel:

“And Cleaners are among the most… dedicated actors. They immerse themselves so deeply in their roles that they often forget they are merely playing a part.”

Jiang Ming closed his eyes.

He did not want to look at the screen anymore. He did not want to see Elvira’s confusion or Elvia’s longing, nor did he want to watch these two souls — toyed with by fate, or rather, by Angels — struggle within a meticulously designed desperation.

But while he could close his eyes, he could not close his ears.

“All right.”

Beelzebub clapped her hands, her voice becoming lighthearted again. She stood up from the sofa and walked to the low coffee table in the center of the room.

Aside from the popcorn bucket and soda cups, the table was currently empty.

But she snapped her fingers.

Snap.

With a soft sound, two things appeared out of thin air on the surface of the coffee table.

A piece of paper and a pen.

“Come now, friends.”

“Write down your answers,” she said, her gaze moving between Jiang Ming and Lilith, her smile brilliant. “Until the final moment is revealed.”

Her voice rose slightly, carrying a sense of ritual like an opening announcement.

“Act Three — “

Beelzebub placed the pen on the paper, the tip resting exactly on the invisible boundary line in the center. Then, she took half a step back and spread her arms like a conductor standing before an orchestra, taking a deep breath —

” — Onstage!”

—

Elvia was in the Amusement Park.

She knew she should not be here. A voice deep inside reminded her that her sister was still outside, and Brother Jiang Ming was outside as well. That dangerous escape was not over yet. Everything was fake, fake, fake.

But as soon as that thought emerged, it was scattered by the cheerful music of the carousel.

She was currently sitting on a bright blue wooden horse, her hands tightly gripping the cold metal pole.

She could feel it.

The texture of the leather saddle, the shiver on her skin when the wind blew past. There was even a hint of sweet fragrance from the cotton candy held by a child in the front row.

It was all fake.

But the sensations were real.

Then, she smiled.

The smile grew wider until her entire face lit up and her eyes curved into crescents. She released one hand and held it high, letting the wind pass through the gaps between her fingers.

“Wow — “

She could not help but whisper in awe.

So this was what it felt like to play.

The carousel slowly came to a stop.

Elvia slid off the horse’s back, stumbling slightly as her toes touched the ground; she had not been on solid earth for too long. After steadying herself, she looked around.

The Amusement Park was larger than she had imagined.

In the distance, the tracks of a roller coaster coiled in the air like a glowing giant dragon, and the exaggerated screams of tourists drifted over as the cars rushed past. Further away, a Ferris wheel rotated slowly, each cabin glowing with a warm yellow light like a string of lanterns hung in the night sky.

To her left was a shooting game stall. The popping sound of balloons breaking mixed with the shouts of the stall owner.

The air was thick with the buttery scent of popcorn, the caramel smell of candied apples, and the fatty aroma of grilled sausages.

She stepped forward and walked to the shooting stall.

The owner was an amiable middle-aged man who handed her a toy gun. “Young lady, want to try? If you hit them all, you get a big bear!”

Elvia took the gun. She imitated the boy in front of her, resting the butt against her shoulder, squinting one eye, and aiming.

She pulled the trigger.

Bang!

A slight recoil followed, and the bullet flew out, striking the red balloon in the very center.

“Good!” the owner clapped.

Elvia smiled and continued shooting.

The second shot, the third, the fourth…

Every shot hit its mark. The popping of balloons formed a continuous rhythm, and tourists gradually gathered around, clapping, whistling, and cheering loudly.

After the last shot, all the balloons had been cleared. The owner’s mouth hung open in an exaggerated fashion. Then, he laughed and pulled a brown, furry teddy bear — nearly as tall as Elvia — from behind the rack.

“Grand prize! Young lady, you are the first grand prize winner tonight!”

The teddy bear was stuffed into her arms.

Elvia hugged it. The fur was soft and tickled her face. The bear was heavy, its solid stuffing requiring her to exert a little force to hold it steady. The bear’s eyes were two black glass beads that reflected the fragmented light of the colorful lamps, appearing as if it were looking at her, smiling at her.

She hugged the bear tightly.

Burying her face in the fur, she took a deep breath.

She had always wanted a little bear of her own.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice muffled by the fur.

“You’re welcome, you’re welcome!” the owner waved cheerfully. “Keep playing! There’s plenty more fun ahead!”

Elvia nodded and left the shooting stall with the bear.

She went to the ring toss game and won a ceramic cat with a free ring the owner gave her. She went to a coin-operated telescope, inserted a coin, and spent 3 minutes looking at the distant scenery — which was actually just a blur of light, but she pretended she saw mountains and rivers. She went to the candy stall and used “game coins” to exchange for a rainbow-colored lollipop, unwrapped it, and took a cautious lick.

Sweet.

Sickly sweet.

It was so sweet it was cloying, so sweet her tongue felt numb.

But she took lick after lick until the entire candy was finished, and until droplets of tears fell onto the ground.

Finally, she walked to the plaza in the center of the Amusement Park.

There was a temporary stage set up here, draped with a red banner that featured large golden letters:

“Lucky Draw! Tonight’s Grand Prize — Realize one of your wishes!”

A long line had already formed in front of the stage. People held lottery tickets of various colors, their eyes sparkling with anticipation.

A host dressed as a clown stood on the stage with a microphone, warming up the crowd in an exaggerated tone:

“Come one, come all! Do not miss out! The only chance tonight! As long as you are lucky enough, you can obtain one ‘Wishing Voucher’! Any wish — hear me clearly, any wish — can come true!”

Any wish.

Elvia stood at the end of the line, hugging her teddy bear, her fingers tightening.

The line moved forward slowly.

It was her turn.

The clown host bent down, pulled a lottery ticket from a large cardboard box, and handed it to her. “Here, young lady, scratch it here!”

Elvia took the ticket and scratched it.

Silver flakes fell away.

A line of words appeared beneath.

Grand Prize.

The clown host leaned in to look, then clutched his chest and shouted, “My goodness! My goodness! The grand prize! The first grand prize tonight!”

He grabbed the microphone, his voice trembling with excitement:

“Ladies and gentlemen! We have our first lucky winner of the night! This lovely young lady — she has won the grand prize!”

The applause was thunderous.

The tourists clapped vigorously, whistled, and cheered. Streamers erupted from above the stage, landing on Elvia’s hair, her shoulders, and the teddy bear in her arms.

Elvia looked at the surrounding pedestrians in confusion, feeling somewhat overwhelmed.

The clown host brought out a red velvet box from behind the stage, walked solemnly to her, and knelt on one knee, holding the box high above his head:

“Congratulations, lucky guest.”

“Please accept this gift.”

He looked up, and under the colorful lights, his eyes beneath the clown makeup flashed with a non-human golden glint.

The box opened.

Inside, there was no certificate, no prize money, and no physical reward.

There was only a card.

In the center of the card, a line of text was written in elegant script:

“With this voucher, one wish may be redeemed anywhere in the park.”

Below that was a line of small print:

“Valid tonight only. Void after expiration.”

Elvia stared blankly at the card.

All the surrounding sounds — the cheering, the music — began to fade away. She could only hear her own heartbeat, the sound of blood rushing in her ears, and the scream of a desire buried deep in the bottom of her soul that had never truly disappeared.

She reached out.

Her fingers trembled as they moved toward the card.

Her fingertips were only an inch away.

As long as she picked it up.

As long as she said those words.

As long as she made that wish.

‘I want to become human again.’

The thought was so clear, so strong, that it almost burst from her throat.

But just as her fingertips were about to touch the card, she suddenly remembered something.

She remembered Jiang Ming.

She remembered him crouching in front of her, asking her what she would want to do if tomorrow were the end of the world, and the look in those calm but serious black eyes.

She remembered the gentle smile on his face when she said she wanted to go to an amusement park.

Her fingers stopped.

Suspended in mid-air, they trembled even more violently.

“Will tomorrow be the end of the world?” Elvia asked softly.

“No, the sun will rise tomorrow just the same,” the clown replied.

The clown host remained kneeling before her, holding the box high, his eyes flashing with a pressing, expectant light.

The surrounding applause gradually died down, and the tourists grew quiet. Everyone was looking at her, waiting for her to make a choice.

Elvia looked at the card, at the promise of realizing a wish, and at her own translucent, hovering fingers.

Then —

Slowly, she withdrew her hand.

She hugged the teddy bear in her arms tightly.

“I…” she began, her voice so soft it was almost inaudible, “I will… think about it.”

Having said that, she turned around, hugged the bear, and quickly walked away from the stage.

She did not look back.

She did not glance at the card again.

But she could feel it. The card, the box, the clown, and the entire Amusement Park.

They were all behind her, waiting quietly and patiently.

Waiting for her to change her mind.

Waiting for her to look back.

Her fingers had hovered over the card, trembling.

She turned and left the stage, her pace quick.

Tonight only.

Void after expiration.

The chance to realize any wish.

Her heart was racing.

Her palms were sweating.