249 The Ghost 1 (1/2)
Due to the world being so beyond perfect, in a sense that it lived up to how she imagined a Western setting before, Wendy woke from the half-year-long trance and realized that she was in a dream.
None of the beautiful weather, castles, dresses, and jewelries given to her was real.
Most likely, her parents and William were the product of imagination too, materialized and breathed lives through an unknown means by something she didn't know.
She wondered. Was this how transmigrators or reincarnators truly got into another world? The place, its grandeur, and the happiness it could bring to the person living in the dream were actually all lies?
It was a heartbreaking realization.
Even though Wendy was glad that she had woken up and was no longer under the misconception that she was a girl living a princess-like life, she couldn't help feeling regret as the wonders and conveniences she experienced in this very realistic dream was way beyond what the real world could give her.
As she thought of this, her grasp of the quill pen tightened. The room was not brightly illuminated and so she could see the shadows of the gently shaking feathers dancing to an unknown rhythm.
She watched the scene with a blank face. The solid and smooth sensation in her hand that was gripping the writing tool made her recall again that she was fooled by this world due to how real it appeared to all her senses.
”Every single detail of this dream is so vivid... Yet I perfectly know that I don't have the ability to recreate or create this in my own imagination.”
Her chest heaved up so much longer than usual before she released the breath that was held for so long. Cold sweat ran down her spine. When she hugged herself, it was a very painful feeling realizing that even the warmth her senses could perceive was also fake.
The question was how did all of these happen?
She recalled hearing a warm and hypnotic voice before she got into this puzzling situation. Therefore, she subconsciously voiced out,
”... Am I cursed?”
...
In the world outside the dream...
It was already the fourth day since Wendy entered a comatose state. Like always, Ver was next to her. The man had to thank his system that it could also purify his exterior, or else, he would have stunk badly by now for not bathing for four days.
Since the happenstances this early morning, Ver had turned somehow quiet, mostly silently watching over the sleeping woman. From time to time, his heart would jump out of his chest whenever he felt like he saw her lashes or fingers moving. But unlike earlier where he almost fought it out with the doctor, he only calmly looked at how things would unfold.
Of course, never did he stop hoping for the woman to open her eyes.
Sometimes he would still talk to Wendy, treating her not like a patient, but a naughty girl who kept pretending that she was asleep.
Out of a sudden, a voice rang, seemingly coming out of nowhere. The being inside his brain couldn't help but remind him because it was worried by how scant the points they had at hands were. It was not even a million.
Ver sighed but didn't answer.
He also knew the severity of the situation. The other two who he just became acquainted with crossed his mind. They were currently doing their part of the plan.
As for Ver, he was on standby until the day of the operation.
To be honest both individuals were not people he trusted yet.
He disliked the thought that he would have to help a stranger level up, especially if that stranger had threatened him with death more than three times.
He also didn't like the sound of working with a guy who claimed that he was the true host backer of Wendy.
”Why couldn't that f*cking ghost just die?” he resentfully asked for the hundredth time, or maybe already more than that since he lost track of the count.
Blame his unfocused mind and the pain in his chest that seemingly wanting to kill him every second over and over again.
The young man stood up, his face looked icy cold as he looked up to the ceiling and stopped the drops threatening to run down.
He didn't really believe that a man was not allowed to cry no matter how dire and hopeless the situation he was. It might sound gay and shameful, but for the past days, he couldn't even recall how many times he shed tears. Of course, it was still embarrassing, so if it could be stopped, he should try to do so.
Nevertheless, this was how much he loved Wendy Gomez. The affection he had for her was so pure and strong that he couldn't properly breathe as he watched her unconscious, battling a battle she was most likely not aware of.
”I'll head out now.” Ver finally resolved to temporarily part with the girl. This had to be done if he wanted to vanquish the evil being that had entangled itself with Wendy's subconscious.
”Please look after her closely.” He pleaded Jone when he stopped by the doorway.
The old secretary did not miss the sincerity in the young man's eyes. He nodded.
Though not totally relieved, the system user only flashed a slight smile and then marched out.
He was now in his quest to arm himself to the teeth before tomorrow comes. As to how he would do so, there were uncountable ways. And it started when after reaching the deserted and shadowy part of the hall, he teleported out for a location that holds many pieces of garbage that he could recycle as points.
...
Whether a coincidence or not, a few minutes after the self-proclaimed guardian and lover of Wendy went out to farm points, a new one came to the townhouse, parking his expensive vehicle in front of it.
Lunchtime had just passed. Instead of returning to his gigantic office, he drove towards here, all to meet the person keeping his fiancée away from him.