Travelling Frog – Chapter 7.1 – Pilot Section

Unexpected yet expected, the haunted house was not scary.

The hall was covered with soft carpet and ancient oil paintings hung on the walls. A row of red candles was lit in the center of the long dining table, casting a warm glow that made the dishes on the plates look exquisite and enticing. When Gin entered, he thought he had arrived at a medieval castle, even the doorknob was adorned with aristocratic elegance.

Three figures were seated at the dining table.

At the head of the table sat a skeleton. It seemed impolite to call it that, one should say it was a skeleton lady, or perhaps a queen of the dead.

It was hard for human imagination to understand how a skeleton could be so stunningly beautiful, but just by sitting there, it exuded an air of arrogance that looked like she looked down on everything.

But human visual senses will cover up the poor imagination, as long as you can see it with your own eyes, you will understand where all this praise heaped upon it came from.

To the left of the skeleton sat a fallen angel. His image was too distinctive, so Gin recognized his identity at first glance.

He had six beautiful jet-black wings, deep black pupils, and black hair. He was born handsome, with a natural aura of demonic charm and coldness, but his movements still betrayed the divinity before his fall so he wouldn’t be mistaken for an angel.

Across from the fallen angel was a demon.

With a green face and protruding fangs, it was terrifyingly hideous. Even taking a side profile photo of it and posting it online could inspire citizens to write two million words of horror stories. It was truly the C position of the demon world’s visual appeal.

But it was draped in a tattered monk’s robe, holding a Buddhist bead bracelet in its hand, palms together and eyes closed as it recited sutras, like a hermit monk who had attained enlightenment for many years. Buddha’s light shone on the castle, and one could even faintly hear the chanting coming from within it.

The three owners each had their own unique qualities, and although there were signs of overlapping elements, they were indeed special enough–special enough for Gin to want to turn around and leave.

“Welcome, dear guest.” The skeleton raised a glass of red wine to Gin, who was standing at the door. “You are the tenth traveler to enter the haunted house in the past two epochs. I am honored to make a new friend.”

Stopping his retreat, Gin paused for a moment and then walked over to the dining table, taking a seat in the only remaining chair, facing the skeleton who raised his glass.

On the table in front of him was a plate of steak, cooked medium-rare, accompanied by a small amount of pasta and broccoli, almost a standard Western restaurant steak combo.

Next to the steak was a half-filled glass of wine of gorgeous smoky purple color, like the sunset over Sicily.

“You can try this dish, it’s called steak, if I’m not mistaken” the skeleton long fingers lightly tapped the glass, the glossy color of the wine contrasting with its flawless white bones: “It’s one of the menus left by the ‘founder’ of the amusement park that we really like.”

“Thank you, but it’s not necessary.” Gin ignored it, his tone indifferent as he politely declined this gesture, then he went straight to the point: “I’m not sure what the first nine people came to the chaotic amusement park for, nor do I intend to investigate. My purpose for coming here is simple -“

“I know, to gain actual control of the chaotic amusement park. That’s what all travelers who come here wanted.” The skeleton put down the untouched red wine, picked up the silverware, and elegantly cut the steak into similarly-sized pieces: “We won’t stop you, but of course, we won’t help you either.”

“That’s only natural” Gin replied patiently. “So what do I need to do now?”

“That depends on you,” the skeleton twirled the knife around its finger, pointing its tip at him: “What information do you want to get from us?”

Gin didn’t hesitate. “The method to gain control.”

“Too eager. The prerequisites are not met, so this information is not available at this time,” the skeleton shook its head, and the blue flames in its hollow eye sockets flickered with a hint of frustration: “You should start by asking about the origin of this world.”

Origins? What a straightforward and unpretentious hint.

Gin lowered his eyes, his long eyelashes hiding the hint of thoughtfulness in his eyes.

“Okay, let’s start from the origin.” He said, crossing his legs and clasping his hands on the table, leaning forward with an attentive look. “What was the world like at first? Why did it become what it is now?”

“I like these two questions,” the skeleton tapped his chin and its deep voice carried an unmistakable humor. “Demon, why don’t you tell him? I’m not a native here after all, and there are many details I don’t understand.”

Upon hearing this, the demon stopped spinning his prayer beads and looked compassionately at the wine.

Gin pulled the hood of the cloak, half of his face hidden in the shadows.

“The universe was originally called Sullivia, and in our language, this word represents hope and courage,” he began.

The demon’s opening statement was plain and unremarkable, he also didn’t seem like a good conversationalist.

“A long time ago–sorry, I don’t want to give an exact time, I just forgot how long ago it was. In my time, Sullivia ad entered the age of great navigation, exploring the depths and boundaries of the universe, trying to break out of the cradle that gave birth to us. Fortunately, we successfully reached the edge of the universe, but unfortunately, that’s where everything went wrong.”

“Ancient gods,” Gin said without hesitation, revealing the reason for the second half of his sentence.

“Yes. The ancient gods opened their eyes, gazed at Sullivia for a moment, and then fell asleep again. That moment was just a blink of an eye to them, but it caused Sullivia long nightmare that it has not yet woken up from.”

The demon pressed his hands together, the prayer beads dangling from his fingers, silently mourning the past, a stark contrast to his identity.

“Later, the ancient god was killed by a powerful warrior, their body torn apart and thrown into the Abyss of Blades, scattering it into all directions, becoming another indelible disaster on this surviving planet. The Chaos Amusement Park is the last pure land left from Sullivia.”

Pure land?


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This Post Has One Comment

  1. Pepito

    I don’t think we have the same definition of “pure land” lmao

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