The former Annan decisively gave up his memory for a particular purpose.
Annan believed that his determination and unwavering resoluteness were aligned with his character.
However, Annan would never give up everything at will because of some small things.
For Annan, the details in the memory were an asset in themselves.
That was because he had such a talent for looking into people’s hearts.
So, what else was there that Annan would instead give up and pursue?
Undoubtedly, that intense and fiery positive emotion had never been frozen by the [Winter Heart].
Annan had a better idea at this moment.
— Annan’s original disposition: a pure desire to embrace asceticism.
—A heart without fear brought by the reversed Winter Heart.
—Making him unstoppable in the repeated failures.
The ascetic heart that had not been frozen by Winter Heart would only have enthusiasm and perseverance when facing the torture of failure. On the other hand, the reversed Winter Heart burnt away Annan’s burnout, despair, and fear when facing defeat. The never-ending, infinitely repeated failures prevent Annan from seeking a second answer. After all, only fools would repeat the same thing but crave different results.
Under the intertwining effect of these three elements, the painful torment had turned into absurd happiness.
The greater the pain, the greater the happiness.
This was a dungeon level that only Annan could pass.
This was not a test that could reach the end with persistence but a dead end that would forever exist.
If Annan did not have the heart of asceticism, he would only think about how many times he would have to repeat it to be saved by Salvatore; if Annan did not have the reversed Winter Heart, he would have committed suicide in despair in the endless failure. Faced with such a desperate situation, he would inevitably use his brain and seek another solution.
Danton never imagined that his designed traps had turned into the best whetstones.
This was an experience powerful enough to rewrite personality. Annan was never alone before this nightmare and even at the current moment.
“For that, I have to thank you. Danton.”
Even if the previous memory had been blurred like a dream.
Annan would never forget the ecstasy of climbing up from the abyss.
“I’ve never felt I’m in such good shape.”
Annan felt the joy and excitement in his heart.
His soul was so bright.
He vividly felt the splendid power awakened in the depths of the soul.
Annan was also quite confident.
Danton’s attempt to murder him in the dream world was meaningless.
“Come at me, Danton!” He laughed. The brilliance in his eyes was so bright, “I want to see what else you can bring me!”
“—It will be as you wish.” Finally, a dull voice sounded in front of Annan.
Sitting in front was the portrait of the young child with the same posture as Annan.
That was Annan’s mirror image, having the same ice blue pupils, the same clothes.
However, Annan’s hair was black, and the opposition was white.
The most significant difference was that Annan’s pupils were as bright as the stars under the night sky.
On the other hand, the pupil of the other party was a deep ice lake that was as calm as water and without emotion.
Although the two never met, Annan was immediately convinced it was Dream Stealer Danton.
In other words, it was Danton’s will, a virtual image of the soul reconstructed with the help of Annan’s memory.
It was not entirely accurate to refer to him as Danton.
Instead, it was born from the combination of Danton and Annan’s memories.
However, having more memories did not make Danton superior.
Instead, the former Annan was willing to give up his memory and start again.
“So, you’re just trying to take over my body?” A radiant smile came across the corners of Annan’s mouth, “Interesting. You dare to appear in front of me!”
Although it was a delightful smile, it unexpectedly put shudders in the onlooker’s heart.
Facing Annan’s question, “Danton” was silent for a moment.
“I have greatly underestimated you.” [Danton] said slowly, “In my original plan, even if this pure fear can’t trap you, it should at least make you feel hopeless. You are a hedonist, a willful, and a reckless madman.
“You’re stronger than you in your memory.”
“Isn’t that natural?” The smile on Annan’s face did not fade, “I am stronger than the next me at every minute and every second. I’m not old yet, and progress is a matter of course. You had me a few hours ago, but I’m different now.”
“Is this the power of the Book of Divine Transporter? The path of ascension and change…” Danton muttered.
“You’re wrong, Danton.” The smile on Annan’s face gradually faded.
He said earnestly, “This is my strength. It is the result achieved through my willpower.
“It is the past me who chose to abandon all the feelings and memories that have been frosted. Now, I have no weakness in my heart.
“It’s like adding ‘Danton’ to make me less pure.”
“Purity. Does it work?” Danton asked calmly.
In the face of Danton’s expected rhetorical question, Annan laughed even more, “As expected of you! As expected of me! This level of conversation. It’s great!
“Give me my last nightmare.” Annan stared at “Danton” and said calmly, “Or I’ll kill you now.”
“It’s already been prepared for you.”
“It’s not something you’ve played with, is it?”
“Of course not, and it’s straightforward and fairly brief.” Danton closed his eyes.
The painting near him disappeared again and turned into the pupil of an old man.
Annan looked at the painting without fear.
The flame-like madness that had just awakened in his heart urged him to take risks.
The closer Annan was to death, the more he experienced failure and the more power surged in his heart.
The scene in front of Annan’s eyes changed again.
He was lying on the hospital bed.
His body was fragile. When he opened his eyes, he could only see incomparably vague things, and it was difficult to speak when he opened his mouth. The small voice heard in his ear was as noisy as a chisel digging into his brain.
He was surrounded by strangers which he could not see clearly.
He felt someone sitting beside him, holding his old hand; he also felt some sobbing in a corner, some pacing outside the house, some were looking at him, and some were afraid to look at him.
Annan felt inexplicable when his time had come.
Death was already standing by his bed. It might be his end the next time he breathed out.
Annan suddenly understood.
This time, the challenge was not a time-limited escape room, not a role-playing game of wrestling with others and earning more time, or even a platform jumping with repeated failures and malicious creators. It was a simple game of “going forward”.
As long as Annan accepted his death, this short, directionless petty game would be over.
But, if Annan accepted the fate of his death, could he still wake up?
