Boluogo looked at the blood-stained head. Even though death was imminent, the man's face still showed full joy, as if what was waiting for him was not death, but some kind of holy heaven.
"Tell me more about the Unbound Poetry Society."
Boluogo has been targeted by the Unbound Poetry Society. Even experts can't figure out what these unruly lunatics want from him.
"Sorry, Bureau of Order... No, the secret societies of the entire Rhine League don't know much about the Unbound Poetry Society. We don't even know who the devil they believe in is who is entrenched behind it."
Lebius told a lie, a white lie, and they knew which devil was controlling all this.
"We only know that the devil is just like the name of the Unbound Poetry Society. With the changes of history, his honorific name has changed many times.
Earthly observer, connoisseur, onlooker, recorder of grandeur..."
One respectful title after another was uttered by Lebius.
"Many demons have interfered in the world. Relying on these traces, we can trace their existence, but... bystanders are different."
In the end, Lebius chose to call the other party "spectator".
"All our knowledge of the Bystander comes from the Unbound Poetry Society. As for the Bystander himself, no one has ever seen him in person...at least that's what's recorded."
Lebius said, "Some people even suspect that the bystander does not exist, he is just a figment of the imagination of the madmen like the Unbound Poetic Society, but these madmen, or rather the poets, do have traces of the devil's power.
"
The story he told was true, at least until Lebius was allowed to know the existence of the spectator, he had thought that the spectator was just a false legend.
The bystander is not a legend, he is a real person, hiding deep in the Bureau of Order, in the sun-filled hotel, as an absolute bystander, watching the war between humans and devils, and his brothers and sisters.
Boluogo recalled the story of Sere. The lunatics in the story didn't care about wealth or power at all. All they longed for were perfect plays, collecting countless poems, and telling stories from far away...
Poetry, picture scrolls, books and even today's movies are all carriers of stories.
"Just like the Orangutan Sect sacrifices flesh and blood to please the Scarlet Matron, the Unbound Poetry Society uses 'stories' to sacrifice to onlookers, right?" Bologo analyzed calmly.
"You are right in guessing. This is the fact. You can think of this world as a huge stage, and the bystanders are the only audience under the stage. What the Unbound Poetry Society has to do is to find ways to make the stage perform a wonderful performance.
A beautiful story to win applause from the audience."
While Lebius was explaining to Bologo, he was still talking to himself.
"That's why the bystander chooses to cooperate with the Bureau of Order. In order to see the grand show painted by the Bureau of Order, he doesn't even mind being hostile to his brothers and sisters. Even if they have never been united."
The existence of bystanders is top secret within the Bureau of Order, and few people know about it, and believe that, as a devil, he actually chose to stay here because of the bad check from the Bureau of Order.
Unfortunately, neither Lebius nor Nethaniel know what the Bureau of Order has promised them. The only person who knows is the current director.
The current director...
When thinking of this, Lebius felt a headache. He tried hard to recall the current director's appearance, name, and all the information related to him, but his mind went blank, followed by a harsh beep.
When Lebius was freed from the sting, his eyes were a little dull, and Boluogo waved his hand, "Boss?"
"Hug...sorry, I was distracted."
Lebius rubbed his head. He couldn't remember what he was thinking just now, let alone why he was distracted.
"Where were we?"
Boluogo reminded, "The purpose of the Unbound Poetry Society."
"What is the purpose of the Unbound Poetry Society? This has to do with the 'story' they care about. In order to weave a satisfying 'story', the Unbound Poetry Society is like the devil. They rarely take the initiative.
Interfering is more like a bard, photographer, and recorder, watching the occurrence and end of events.
For this reason, among the believers derived from devils, the Unbound Poetry Society is relatively mild, and is not as violent and crazy as the Orangutan Sect."
Lebius's voice turned stern, "But this does not mean that they are not threatening. Sometimes, they will do whatever it takes to get the perfect story."
"Just like spying on me, right? Do they think I have some kind of storytelling ability?" Bologo asked. It's really not a good thing to be targeted by such a group of people.
"Perhaps, because of the crazy nature of the Unbound Poetry Society, we have very few records about it, and even its internal structure is unclear."
Lebius shook his head, "There are still many unsolved mysteries in this world, and the Bureau of Order does not have a very clear understanding of all forces."
Looking at Boluogo's serious look, Lebius comforted him, "Let's spend our energy on the promotion ceremony first. I will notify the Crow's Nest about this part to see if they have discovered anything recently."
"No...it's nothing. I just feel that life is wonderful."
Boluogo was silent for a moment and smiled.
"It wasn't long after I had been on vacation, but then work came to my door again. It inevitably made me wonder whether I was really a hard worker."
"Is the undead going to die from hard work? Then you will be busy in the future," Lebius said, reminding him, "Take this head away and throw it away somewhere you like."
Bologna and Palmer left the office, but Lebius's expression remained serious. He picked up the landline phone and dialed the number.
"Minister, in order to please the onlookers, the Wufu Poetry Club has started. I want to know..."
"This matter has nothing to do with bystanders."
Nathaniel's voice was unmistakable.
Lebius paused in his words, his eyes flashed, and asked, "Are you sure?"
"I'm sure. If you don't believe me, you can ask the onlookers yourself."
There was a scratching sound from the microphone, and soon another familiar and weird voice sounded, and he said, "Yo, Lebius."
Lebius's expression solidified.
"I admit that I really long for Boluogo's sight, but I will not violate my rules, that is to say... this is just what the Unbound Poetic Society wants to do, and I will also lower the level for them according to the rules.
Enze, as for how you want to deal with them, just do whatever you want.
Whether it's killing them all, putting them in a dark prison, or using more cruel methods...you're welcome! I have no objections, so don't pay too much attention to what I think."
If he hadn't known in advance that the other party was an evil devil, Lebius would have even thought he was talking to a friendly friend.
Devils seem to be like this and don't care about their followers, just like the tyrants' attitude towards Wandering Cross Road and the Gray Trade Chamber of Commerce.
The devil does not come from believers, but believers need the devil for support.
"Is there anything else? Lebius."
There was a smile in the onlooker's words. He never concealed his love for Lebius. Among his many "sights", the onlooker always felt that Lebius was the best one.
Lebius hung up the phone silently, leaned back in his chair, raised his head, and twisted his eyebrows together, with unsolvable troubles remaining in his heart.
"He is a devil...an evil and hateful devil..."
Like a mantra, Lebius kept whispering, strengthening his hatred of the devil in his heart.
…
"So...this matter really has nothing to do with you?"
In the cinema, Nathaniel let go of the phone, and the phone immediately disappeared into the shadows.
This movie theater, and even the entire House of the Rising Sun, is the realm of bystanders, just like tyrants wandering out of the way, in their own realm. These devils are omnipotent in the true sense.
"real."
The bystanders turned their heads, thousands of faces flashed across his face, and they all smiled strangely.
"You know me, Nathaniel, I have never been too lazy to manage my believers. The reason why they are so pious is because we have the same idea.
As for my protection of believers, you know the rules, this is beyond my control."
Nathaniel reached out and grabbed a large handful of popcorn from the arms of the bystander and stuffed it into his mouth without ceremony. There were not many people like him who dared to snatch food from the devil's mouth.
An onlooker said proudly, "Unlike my crazy brothers and sisters, my protection is still very attractive."
Devils will grant two kinds of power to mortals. Human beings who have given part of their souls and are deemed valuable by the devil will become debtors and receive the devil's "gift".
The debtor is recognized by the devil and has value.
Another type of power is "protection". Through the condensed ones of the contract school, these contractors will establish a connection between mortals and the devil, and gain the devil's power and protection in the form of believing in the devil and sacrificing their souls.
For example, the Orang Rot Sect's protection and bloodthirsty healing, by devouring flesh and blood, can make the flesh and blood gain extremely strong self-healing capabilities, even to the point of becoming immortal.
"Compared with protection, I care more about the so-called... same idea?"
Nathaniel doesn't know much about the onlookers. This devil is so lazy that his traces in the world are very few. I am afraid that only the director can barely understand his full picture.
It sounds so interesting that humans and devils think alike.
Nathaniel vaguely remembered a similar thing, and he asked tentatively, "Are you referring to the thing that the Unbound Poetry Society has been chasing since ancient times? Not only are they chasing it, that is what you want too.
"
The onlookers smiled and nodded, and thousands of faces nodded with him.
Nathaniel asked, which might clarify what the spectators wanted, "What is that?"
The bystander was silent for a while, then he turned to look at the big screen, where chaotic pictures were flying, extending from thousands of years ago to the present, changing from dark alleys to magnificent palaces.
His voice was solemn and solemn, telling the only true name.
"That is...endless poetry."
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