The Righteous Player(s)

“Are you awake, Elle?” A somewhat familiar voice came from beside “Elle”.

Annan immediately noticed that Elle was under the quilt.

So he didn’t immediately throw off the quilt and sit up. Instead, he shrank back deep into the quilt and opened his eyes to look in the direction of the sound.

It was Amos.

A young man in his early thirties, with short brown hair and deep blue eyes. He was carefully trimming his sideburns with an electric razor in front of the mirror. Hearing the sound Elle made, he nonchalantly stopped the razor.

Amos turned around and looked over with a relaxed and happy smile.

That was a completely different look from the Amos in the Gallery Nightmare.

In the nightmare, the painter Amos was filled with an unapproachable aura. Even facing his own daughter Elle, he had no kind words. Instead, he kept sighing, his expression painful and conflicted, his face stubbled and hair messy… he just looked utterly down.

In contrast, the Amos in the nightmare world not only had a beaming smile and a rather fashionable hairstyle, but he even cheerfully hummed a tune.

It seemed to be a snippet of an opera he had heard somewhere recently. He had completely forgotten the lyrics, so he could only hum off-key at random. But even this was enough to show that his mood was cheerful.

“Don’t stay up late, Elle. Your schedule is so unhealthy.”

After shaving, Amos patted toner on his face as he walked over. Standing in front of the bundled-up blanket, he said unhappily, “If you want to watch the cartoon at 8:30 in the morning, then you should go to sleep earlier.”

“That’s at 8:30, not 6:30 or 5:30. You can go to bed early and get up early, have breakfast, and then watch it. Are you listening, Elle?”

“Oh…” “Elle” huddled under the quilt, making vague sleepy sounds and not responding directly.

Amos sighed helplessly but did not get mad at her.

Amos instructed, “Your mom’s world tour ended yesterday and she said she’ll be home tonight. I have to go on a business trip and will probably be back in two or three days. If you’re not sleeping early tonight, just stay home and pay attention to the doorbell, okay?”

“She should be back around midnight. Did you hear that?”

“Uhm.” The quilt made a low whine.

“So I’ll take it you heard me, okay?” Amos said with a good-natured smile. He patted the bundled-up blanket and cheerfully said, “I’ll bring you back some gifts. How about some tasty treats? And some music records… Anything else you want?”

“Anything.”

“Anything is the worst gift to give.” The man thought seriously for a moment, as if he suddenly remembered something, “Ah, I remember now—didn’t you mention wanting a portrait painting from Dad for your birthday?”

“I’m thinking… since it’s a portrait painted by your dad, it’s sure to be filled with emotion, an irreplaceable treasure. I will make the process of painting this portrait a tribute to the Elegant Elder, and I’m sure the Elegant Elder would be very pleased. It will be the best offering.”

“But if you want it, I’ll paint it for you when Dad comes back.”

Amos smiled gently, patting the puffed-up blanket, “Compared to the rewards from the Elegant Elder, Elle is indeed more important.”

“Okay, I’m heading out. Goodbye.”

As he spoke, he picked up his already-packed suitcase and headed for the door.

After he left for a long time, Elle slowly got out of the quilt.

Her golden hair was fluffy and messy, with very clear tear stains on her face.

She cried quietly and silently.

Even though Annan had controlled Elle’s body, Elle could still hear and see.

“Is this your wish, Elle?” Annan’s voice resonated in a low tone.

The voice emanating from Elle’s body was deep and soft, as gentle as a mother’s.

[…Yes. Sorry…]

“There’s nothing to say sorry about.”

[I don’t know either, but that’s what I want to say… and, thank you.]

Hearing the pitiful voice in her heart, “Elle” raised her eyebrows.

“What did you say in your previous loop?”

[Amos and I had a fight.]

“Why are you arguing with him?”

[I, I also… I don’t know… But, suddenly feeling that Amos was back, I got really panicked… I actually didn’t want to argue with him, but I also didn’t know what to say, and my emotions were so mixed up, so… In the end, he didn’t understand what I meant, but still apologized and quietly left… I, I just…]

Deep in her heart, Elle’s voice was intermittent and gradually filled with tears.

Ah… Annan sighed deeply.

She is still a little girl.

Because the emotions in her heart were too complex—joy, panic, admiration, longing, worry… various emotions intertwined together. Elle, lacking enough ability to express herself, inadvertently turned it into groundless anger.

“Rather, the fact that Amos didn’t start an argument with you shows that he really has a good temper in this world.”

[Amos actually…he used to have a good temper…]

Elle’s voice, weak and with a hint of grievance, resonated from the bottom of her heart.

[But after his progress suddenly halted, he gradually became irritable… He’s still okay with Mom and me, but he’s becoming increasingly short-tempered with others… and for no reason at all, he picks fights…]

That’s because the smooth-sailing genius has encountered a threshold for the first time that talent alone can’t cross.

But you two, father and daughter, really do resemble each other—even though there’s no blood relation.

But at least when it comes to getting upset and starting to pick fights with people… you really do take after each other.

Annan thought for a while and whispered, “Then you can think about it this way. Since Amos has always had a good temper and good talents before, why did he suddenly encounter the threshold of his talents?”

[…Why, why?]

“Thinking back to that time, the Venerated Skeleton had already appeared in Frozen Water Port. His destination was clear from the start. It was the Frozen Water Port where you and Amos were. So, could the reason for Amos’s halted talent be attributed to the Venerated Skeleton?”

[What? Could there be such a reason? Is that true?]

Of course, it’s not true.

There was no evidence, just a superficial connection. Attributing the cause to one point. This was the typical attribution of causality, akin to a Detective Conan-level deduction.

Annan was naturally aware of it too.

But so what?

Since the sorry Mr. Skeleton was carrying this burden anyway… since He was destined to die no matter what, it was better to have Ellie, this completely innocent young girl, not weeping alone and drowning in the unfairness of fate, unable to break free from the shadows of the past. It was better to help her understand — it was all the Venerated Skeleton’s fault.

Then, as the Venerated Skeleton passed away, the narration of “the enemy is dead and the great revenge has been avenged” would take place. The shadow that had been lingering in her heart would vanish.

This could be regarded as one of the few contributions the Venerated Skeleton could make.

Moreover…

Annan narrowed his eyes slightly.

Who can be sure that this must be “an unfounded speculation”?

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