The Speaking Pork Trotter

In the neon of blue and purple, under the thick steel sky, at the forefront of this surge of data, lies the world post-tech revolution.
It's also the dividing line between reality and illusion.
Steel and flesh, past and future.
In this place, the world outside and inside coexist. Everything in front of us feels like a wall of time within reach.
The darkness is slowly creeping in.
But hey, my friend, you gotta know, we can't just counter darkness with softness.
Gotta use fire.

Naming Technique of the Night

Lordbluefire

This was somewhat of a subversion of his beliefs.


But upon careful thought, these higher-ups were human too.


The old man looked sideways at the youth, "In the last few days of this old man's life, aren't they precious? To not waste these days, no matter how grand the scene, it's not too much. My time now is so valuable that counting it by the second wouldn't be unreasonable."


"All right, there is some truth to that," Qing Chen remarked.


The old man raised his hand and cast the fishing hook out, watching the float as he talked, "When I was young, I always thought I had plenty of time, always telling myself that things I liked to do could wait. But, alas, my life was wasted amidst these worldly pursuits of fame and fortune, seeking to balance this, balance that. Looking back, I should have pretended to be critically ill earlier; I might have been able to let go and enjoy myself much sooner."


Whoever is not one of us, their heart must be different_4