Gun of Ashes

Compared to the continuous bloodshed along the way, this land is certainly much friendlier. There are no Watcher, no Demon, nor any raging winds or giant waves; there is only this vast expanse of unbeaten snow.

At this moment, however, the Plague Doctor’s heart wells up with an ever-growing fear. He begins to pray for some physical monster to leap out so he can slay it. That way, the emotion of "fear" would at least have a tangible vessel; it can bleed, and it can be killed, thus conquered.

But now, it’s different. Fear has transformed into an omnipresent breeze, like dying old men, incessantly murmuring by his ear.

Both the Plague Doctor and Lorenzo sensed the strangeness of this land, but the power is shapeless and formless. Apart from feeling terrified and administering injections, it seems they possess no ability to resist.

This...pure white Hell.

"Plague Doctor, is there such a possibility?"

Lorenzo grips the rope, looking at the snowfield filled with footprints behind him.

"Could it be that another person came along with us? Red Falcon? Or Bola?"

Lorenzo muttered to himself, his eyes slightly bright, pondering over all the weirdness.

"No, I only remember it’s just the three of us."

The Plague Doctor denied Lorenzo’s words. Rather than a denial, it’s safer to say he’s somewhat afraid to follow Lorenzo’s line of thought. If there truly is a companion who got lost here, then how much has the Plague Doctor forgotten by now?

But just like the paradox Lorenzo mentioned, the Plague Doctor can’t remember what he’s forgotten. This silent death may rob him of the memory of who he even is the next second.

"Don’t be so sure, Plague Doctor. That’s possible too. Didn’t we almost forget to inject the Florun Potion just now?" Lorenzo shook his head. His mood was neither fearful nor calm; he was merely thinking according to his own ideas.

"One of us is a poor soul who used up the Florun Potion and forgot he should inject the potion. Thus, he forgot why he needed the injection, consequently forgetting the memory the potion helps maintain.

Memory gradually collapses, and he forgets more and more until he even forgets why he’s here, or even who he is."

As Lorenzo spoke, he tugged at the rope tied around his waist. The rope connected him and the Plague Doctor, but Lorenzo’s gaze was directed at the other end, as if the rope should extend out here to connect someone.

But now the rope is severed here, only connecting Lorenzo and the Plague Doctor.

"We have no way to determine if the fourth person exists, do we?" the Plague Doctor asked.

According to Lorenzo’s theory, the Anti-Meme would not only erase the fourth person’s existence on a memory level but also block everything related to them.

"Perhaps the rope is actually extending out, the fourth poor soul is connected, but we can’t see the rope, nor feel its pull. Maybe that person is standing right in front of us, yelling at us, punching us... yet we just can’t perceive their existence."

The more he pondered, the more the Plague Doctor felt this white Hell was gruesomely frightening.

Lorenzo had the completely opposite sentiment. The Plague Doctor could clearly see the smile lingering on Lorenzo’s face; he became increasingly excited, like a mad monster.

"What a fearsome power it is; you can’t remember the forgotten things. You can’t know what your enemy looks like. All you face is the unknown, even to the extent that you can’t foresee when a battle with them will begin."

"What are you excited about, Holmes?"

The Plague Doctor tightened his muscles, realizing now that anything could happen in this ghostly place. Perhaps, he has already forgotten some vital parts.

For instance, who exactly is Lorenzo?

The Plague Doctor’s mind wavered slightly. This place is so still, apart from the occasional breeze; there are almost no fluctuations. Yet this seemingly harmonious place turned crazy and sinister due to Lorenzo’s words.

"Plague Doctor, perhaps at the World’s End, there truly is a force to eradicate the Demon."

Lorenzo’s eyes gleamed with wild joy.

"Do you still remember what the Demon actually is?"

"Demon..."

The Plague Doctor pondered, but secretly, hard claws were ready to form within flesh at any time, ready to be unsheathed like a sword.

"The true culprit of all these disasters is, in fact, ’erosion’—memetic pollution information. They act upon humans, turning them into mad ’Demons’. It can be said that ’Demons’ are merely the symptoms of humans after falling ill; the true root is ’erosion’." The Plague Doctor explained; through his research, he reached a conclusion consistent with Lorenzo’s.

"Then, don’t you think Anti-Meme can completely halt all of this?"

Lorenzo whispered.

"Anti-Memes are self-enclosed information; they possess the capability to completely isolate the spread of erosion. They could seal off this harmful information in reverse, completely stripping the concept of ’Demon’ from everyone’s cognition. It would forge an iron curtain between humans and erosion. With erosion unable to spread, no Demons would be born; all traces are erased, and nobody would ever uncover their existence."

"Do you think that’s possible?"

Listening to Lorenzo’s words, the Plague Doctor actually felt a slight possibility, but soon he felt it was all too grand, too distant.

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