Dow and Carbon-Based Monkey Breeding Guidelines

Chapter 651 The Origin Story of the Lamp Nymph
The executor found it very interesting, if that's the way to describe it.

He knew more about it than Yarelica, for Shadow was particularly good at sniffing.He cast another deep look at Yarrica.During this time, his throat became strangely flexible, yet he felt his own existence becoming indistinct.He was about to disappear from a world that was gradually making sense.He turned his head nonchalantly from side to side, examining the face in the firelight from multiple angles.He has no feeling for insults, not long ago.

You are too short.He said lightly.Vegetable cat.Small cat kittens.Did you come to this kind of place to find your mother?
The red veil-like fire drifted past his eyes, and some vague memories were awakened.The executor has many memories of fire, mostly of destruction and dissolution.But this time he didn't think of those, the bright and colorful fire brought back his pleasant memories.He thought of the clouds at a certain time, a certain high position, the slender and long branches rolled up, and the symbols drawn with a fine pen in the lower part of the cloud layer, a certain melody-like speaking voice—— Those clouds are like colorful sheep, aren't they?I think they are very similar, what do you think?

He wanted to answer the voice.But he couldn't remember.He felt that he had indeed answered, but what remained of his memory was a rough noise like stones rubbing against each other.This is what he lost.He couldn't remember why, but he knew he couldn't recall specific things.That was discarded, no, something that was supposed to be swapped out.Those memories were taken away by Shadow and given to someone else, so he could never get them back.All he can remember is the leftover frame that was dug out, the parts that have nothing to do with himself.But even in the parts that were not his own there were many important things.Important enough to confuse him about the situation at hand.

He knew that face.At least, he thinks he does.The presenter's appearance has many signatures.But he didn't recognize the image in front of him.It was a wonderful thing, a change that had taken place without him knowing it.This is nothing worth resisting, because when he can stand here, it means that huge changes have already occurred.Can it be said that this is a change now?No, change has become fact, and all he knows is change.Some variations possible.His past belongs to him alone, old friend, so can it be said that he is safe and sound?

The executor heard a phantom noise.A meow with a deep curl.This association also comforted him, though he could not say why.He still wanted to think for a while, pondering over the problem of that face.But time has run out.He took one last look at the ground.

The fisherman's servant was watching him.She looked so specific, too much like an animal with independent minds, and the horns on her head were a rarity to him.If it wasn't for the shadow that had lurked into her heart and eavesdropped on all those secrets, the executor could hardly be sure that she was really a servant.Her hand was still on the dead man's shoulder.The man was indeed dead, and there were echoes of him lingering on the Shadow Path.He heard the regrets of the dead souls during their lifetime, whether it was about memories of the past or expectations for the future.He had heard those things countless times in the past, and since he had completely lost sleep and didn't need food to keep his body alive, he certainly wouldn't be disturbed by it.

The dead man was killed by him.he thought calmly.He couldn't remember specific details, because it didn't take any memory to wipe out life near him.But when the dead man's voice came up the Shadow Path, he thought he heard the long sigh of a cat again.He tried to catch it very carefully, but he couldn't hear the cat's voice, only the shadow murmured continuously.

Of course I obey you.said Shadow, sounding respectful.What happened to the base?Shadow asked in a childish voice.Thanks for your guidance.Yes.I solved the target.Yes.correct.I killed the threat.I know.I see.I'll take care of that thing for you.I will watch out for anyone suspicious.Of course, I care about your safety.If anything happens please let me know.

Too many bits and pieces.The executor has learned how to listen to shadows in the long past, how to pick out the one he wants to hear from the many echoes, but he doesn't have much patience to do so.He listened to the dead man in order to find the cat.The cat that was always slyly hiding on the edge of his attention, but made a little movement every now and then.He couldn't remember exactly how it happened, but cats were important, it was true.He was still looking for the cat, and continued to listen to the dead man's whispers.

He didn't like the dead man because he talked too much.The echoes of some shadows are very short, only one or two sentences, or even one or two words, or a sigh that covers everything.A short echo like this may be because the owner is not dead, but just accidentally forgot something, and let them fall to the kingdom of shadows along the cracks of dreams.Others were indeed dead, but lived with nothing to talk about, nothing to lose.Executors love both cases.He doesn't like dead people talking a lot.It's a pity that most dead people have a lot of unfinished business, from the time they were born to the last moment before they die.The executor is also very good at listening to these trivial things, and does not know how to filter and screen.So he had to take it all and listen to the dead man go on and on, talking about the moment before he was killed.The executor tried to find the cunning cat among the noise, but found nothing.

——You will definitely do everything possible to skimp.said the shadow.You've broken all your old flames, haven't you?What are you going to give me?
The silhouette of the dead man's shadow began to surge.A small cloud of black smoke floated from his chest, transforming into another palm-sized figure, flying back and forth around the shadow of the dead man.The little figure was speaking too, though in another part, in the dead man's own voice.Because this is a fantasy, a longing, the executor has also seen a lot.

I always have a fair return on them.said the little thing that branched off from the shadow of the dead man.A decent suit.Some nice tattoo stickers.A little tobacco for pleasure and sleep.A lighter engraved in the shape of your former owner, let her warm your heart!
Little Shadow laughed a little meanly.But the dead man's shadow was full of joy.Happy and lost.All of this was clearly observed by the executor, because shadows cannot hide true thoughts.He listened impassively, resentful that the cat hadn't been found, but one word jolted his memory.

If the dead man wanted it, he could give something.The executor thought.He didn't understand pity and guilt anymore, but since he happened to have that, he could try to exchange it with the dead.Fair trade is a natural thing to do.He's done it before, can't remember getting a ticket from whom.So he reached into his pocket, found his few possessions, took out the one he happened to have, and threw it on the dead man's breast.He also couldn't remember where it came from, but it must have been important to know.He might not have been willing to make this deal in the past, but it doesn't matter now.He will soon be unable to carry anything.

take it.He said.We make a deal.Give me whatever you want in return.

The ghosts who murmured on the shadow path finally fell silent.This is only temporary.For dead voices and phantoms are never really satisfied.What they get can only be comforted again and again.But, now, this little consolation seems to be enough for the time being.

He has other things to do, because he saw a familiar portrait.That drawing brought up another memory for him, and it also gave him a good idea.Yes, this would be a very good idea.If that machine doesn't have a blueprint, it will create it randomly.But if he did something here, things would be completely different.

The prying shadow had found out many things before the executor found the fisherman's servant.The executor can feel the operation of the machine, and he also knows what the person who started it wants.The request had been calculated to allow him to think in this brief moment.That request had to be consistent with requests he had made in the past, so his killing was temporarily halted—the program hung—and the word bubbled from his fragmented memory.

He also knew what the other people here were thinking.Not all of them, but there was one person who once uttered his wish aloud and was secretly recorded by the shadow.The wish was...pure, he used the word instinctively.Pure desires are the ones that the machine is most happy to fulfill, and so the machine is rapidly reinventing itself.The transformation is uncertain, and he considers it an honor to bear the Lord of the Silent Forest's likeness.Not just an honor, but a blessing.That represented the life-giving goddess, and that would... make things interesting.

Then don't waste your time.come on.Just do it.

The executor grabbed the painting.He felt that he was disappearing, that he was going to disappear into nothingness that never existed in this real history.So he gave up on the illusion of fire and light, and just grinned at him before retreating into the depths of the illusion.The phantom had no intention of following him, he knew, the phantom was meant to protect the fisherman's servant.The executor thought this was also a very interesting thing—to protect the fisherman's servant.

I remember you, vegetable cat.He said.I don't know you, but if you do have something to do with the host, maybe we'll meet again.

Maybe.possible.maybe.But who knows?The executor no longer considered the matter.He followed the path of shadows to the depths.In the vicissitudes of change, he also sees nothing.But he could know what the shadow saw and heard.The shadow pointed out to him where the bell echoed.They whispered to him: the bell was spinning, inside and out, counterclockwise, at an immeasurable speed.

It was activated by the man who was thinking about the cave and his sister, and now it is doing something similar to the shadows - it is eavesdropping on the wishes of everyone around it.Even the wish of the executor has been heard by it, and there is no way to hide it.This ability to find out the truth is also very similar to the shadow.

But it can also do things that shadows cannot.The executor felt it vaguely.It is weaving something, coordinating something, changing the shape of the whole picture.It puts patterns here that shouldn't be there, and takes patterns there that are there.The executor has no way of knowing how many of these increases and decreases.He is not capable of interfering with its doing these things, for he, like all other life, is but the thinnest thread in the tapestry.He could see where threads began and where they ended, but he could not see the picture itself, much less what it should have been.But that doesn't matter, it doesn't matter what kind of picture it is, because he knows very well what the pattern will look like in the end: that is when all the threads are cut and the picture is finally woven.

The executor stopped moving forward.He already sensed the danger, the machine was unwilling to let anything with a wish come near.It will create obstacles for him.So he lowered his hand, and let the shadow jump out of the path like a predatory fish, and swallow the paper with the image of the great monarch on it.He sent the shadow back to his own country, and from there bypassed all phantoms and dangers to reach the Infinity Bell.He ordered the shadow to show the portrait to the machine, in full view, and—he didn't quite know what to do, he didn't think he'd ever used it properly.Finally he let the shadow convey his meaning, asked the machine to become the man in the picture, or simply roll the picture into a thin strip and stuff it through the hole in the bell's shell.One of those had to work anyway.

Do what you can.He muttered imaginatively to the Lord of the Silent Forest.Aren't you the youngest girl in Rizafa?Aren't you the one who really holds the power of life?Have some fun with this machine.Still, he added almost instinctively: it was just a suggestion.Suggestions rather than requests.He was unwilling to pay the Lord of the Silent Forest for this.

And so the shadow passed.Across the infinite sea of ​​events, to bring the drift bottle he deposited to the target.The executor stood where he was, waiting and listening slowly.Many shadows in the path are talking about themselves.Their wishes will not be heeded by the machine.They are forgotten and abandoned in every sense of the word.

—I want to repent.said Shadow.I want to escape.said another shadow.I want to have real care.I want to get the life I want.I want... I want... He listens more and more deeply and attentively, going back from the present to the past.The history of those shadows was so long that he couldn't tell the source.

Would you like to be my child?He caught the phrase.

I'm going to kill you!said another thin voice.

The old friend...the cat he was looking for sighed with a roll.

The executor looked up sharply.But that sentence was quickly lost in the many echoes.This cunning cat is so good at hiding, he's totally out of reach.He wanted to see the cat again.He vaguely felt that it was a very fancy cat, with gorgeous and shiny fur, just as eye-catching as the rookie cat just now.Speaking of that rookie just now... what wish did he make?
That was the last thing on the executor's mind.Then, in an unnoticed instant, the new picture is complete.Shadow sent his bottle ashore.The executor looked forward, and the golden bell was no longer hanging in the void.It was held in a pair of small and immature hands, and the Lord of the Silent Forest was naked, looking at him with deep eyes.

The executor walked towards her.He tried to perform an ancient ritual on her, in case she had fully inherited the Lord of the Silent Forest's mind and wiped him out on a whim.He wasn't worried about being wiped out, but he still wanted to figure out at least one problem.

Who are you?he asked the girl holding the golden ball.It's not a question of origin, it's a question of how many ingredients.Which part of her is more?Is it a goddess?Is it a machine?Or is that wish?

At this time, the turmoil in Vientiane has quietly subsided, and the shadows are as quiet as if they are sleeping.The girl holding the golden ball raised her head, a smile as bright as a flower tree bloomed on her magnificent face.She opened her arms towards the executor.

"Hugs!" she said.

(End of this chapter)