Chapter 581: The Truth About the Hunger Addiction!

Chapter 581 The Truth of the Hunger Addiction!

Karen did not turn around to look back, because the moment that voice rang out, he realized what had happened.

In a place like this, the voice of a young girl appearing and calling you "Daddy"—the identity you were currently being projected into became all too clear.

Besides, Karen actually possessed quite a rich bounty of experience when it came to being "mistaken" for that particular identity.

It was precisely based on this that he had successfully deceived his opponents several times by playing the role of a "Great Existence."

Purr had complained about why she couldn't "act" successfully; it could only be said that imagination still originated from reality.

As for the current situation,

A mental imprint?

Fragments of memory?

Was it originally left behind, or did this environment help preserve it?

Karen began to analyze the reasons.

The temple had sealed the "Lost Paradise." Because his grandfather had used a divinity fragment to blow up the temple, a rift had appeared here, and the gluttonous old man, Myst, often came over to satisfy his cravings.

To a certain extent, Myst's actions had lowered the security alert here, after all, someone had explored the path long ago.

But by a strange stroke of luck or misfortune, he had come, and he had stepped right onto the landmine.

Karen did not feel particularly wronged either, because of the similarities between himself and certain characteristics of that God of Order, the fragment of Ankara sealed inside the body of the Lunar Deity Cult's child of god had once mistaken his back view for her father.

What should be considered now was how he could leave this "whirlpool."

He truly did not like constantly prying into other people's secrets, even if they were the secrets of a god.

If it were the kind where a hole was gouged in a wall and a chair was placed there to peek, he would find it rather low-class, but if he were forced to watch, then so be it;

But the problem was, this kind of "peeking" often tortured him half to death. The last time, Dis's phantom had almost dissipated completely in order to protect him, and it had only recently managed to recover a little bit with great difficulty.

In short, he was not a theological researcher, and he did not have the kind of resolve to risk death just to catch a glimpse of a bit of "truth."

Therefore, Karen not only did not turn back, but instead continued to walk outward, while doing his best to seal off his perception of the outside world.

If this was an "illusion," then he would break it;

If this was an environmental projection, then he would choose to leave;

If this was the control of a mental imprint... then you either truly step forward to stop me, or you allow me to break the shackles.

From the very beginning, Karen had chosen the most intense attitude of non-cooperation, with no intention of actively initiating contact or immersing himself.

However, when Karen rapidly raised the fluctuations of his soul consciousness, he discovered that on his periphery, there were no constraints of illusion or mental power.

Not an illusion?

"Daddy, wait for me, wait for me..."

The child's voice continued to appear, and instead of fading, it became even clearer. One could even hear the sound of footsteps coming from behind, which meant everything was becoming more real.

Karen began to leave at a faster speed. According to experience, when you maintained a non-cooperative attitude toward this kind of "contact," the other party could either only let you leave, or use force against you.

To Karen, both of these situations were better than the current ambiguity.

Karen walked out of the vegetable garden and reached the side of the castle, but he still did not see Purr's figure, which meant he was still within this environment.

Eye of the Dark Moon!

In fact, the capability of the Eye of the Dark Moon did not carry the effects of "waking oneself up" or "shattering illusions," because the Eye of the Dark Moon was inherently extreme, and could even be said to be the vengeful gaze of the Goddess of the Dark Moon.

But it was precisely this extremity that, to a certain extent, could instead play a role in breaking through veils, much like how when a person is truly blinded by rage, they definitely cannot listen to what the people next to them are saying... Well, when the people next to them want to deceive them, they cannot listen either.

Karen's eyes flushed with red, and his vision was dyed with a layer of bloodiness. Then, he saw a cute cat face appear in front of him, speaking, calling out to him.

Purr...

He could not hear the voice, but Purr should be calling out to him over and over again. She was fine, he was the one in trouble. And behind Purr, Karen also saw the melons and fruits on the vines.

Right now, he was still in the vegetable garden?

Unfortunately, this image did not last for too long. Along with the shout that came from behind once more:

"Daddy!"

Purr's figure vanished from sight. Karen was like a drowning person who had managed to splash his way to the surface with great difficulty, and before he could even take a breath, a hand appeared beneath the water and forcefully dragged him back down!

Not an illusion... he could not perceive any fluctuations of mental power.

Nor was it a memory fragment, because he had just seen Purr.

An ambient projection of the surroundings? Neither. Then there was no reason why only he could see it while Purr could not.

When experiencing such a situation in the past, it was difficult for Karen as an individual to distinguish, but now with Purr, it was equivalent to having an extra reference point, making it easy to analyze the situation. Moreover, Purr and he shared a symbiotic relationship, and the connection between the two was closer than anyone else, even closer than a husband and wife.

But the analyzed result was that even if Ankara had left a mental imprint here, and even if she wanted to press his head down and forcefully shout "Daddy" into his ear, she would still need to take action.

Yet now, he had already excluded the vast majority of external interference, which meant no external intervention existed.

Then why did he have this kind of "auditory hallucination"?

This was a sort of paradox: I am clearly in the water, yet my body is dry.

"Daddy, heehee, I found you, I still found you."

This time, it was no longer just a young girl's voice, because the girl was already pressed tightly against his back, her hands wrapping around his waist.

Karen lowered his head and saw that pair of child's hands around his waist.

If she was Ankara, then he was currently enjoying the treatment of the God of Order. Even if all of this was fake, to a believer of Order, this was absolutely a true case of being "overwhelmed by favor."

Unfortunately, Karen did not have any similar feeling. A surge of anger even rose within his heart. He pressed his hands down, grabbed those small hands, exerted force suddenly, and pulled them away.

"Daddy... do you not want me anymore... Daddy... do you not want me anymore..."

The heartbreaking voice of the young girl came from behind.

Hearing this voice, the fire of anger in Karen's heart burned even more fiercely than before.

He even wanted to turn around very badly and strangle her directly!

No, destroy her, utterly and completely destroy her!

At this moment, the row of owls on the castle railing began to sing a children's song, but the originally cheerful and relaxed children's song now sounded with an indescribable, sinister eeriness.

The owls smiled while singing, their faces originally resembling human faces to begin with, and when the smiles appeared, they looked like the stiff leather masks of dolls.

It was also fortunate that Karen did not understand the language the owls sang in. In fact, the theme of this children's song was the relationship between a father and a child, expressing the affection between father and son (father and daughter).

"Daddy, you cannot leave me, you cannot leave me, I don't want you to go, I don't want you to go!"

The young girl's voice became resolute.

Karen, who had been persisting in keeping his back turned to her, could not help but clench his fists tightly, his facial expression also becoming extremely distorted. He was restraining himself, restraining that urge to turn around and carry out the most tragic destruction.

"Karen... wake up... Karen... Karen wake up... don't scare me..."

Purr's voice rang out from the depths of Karen's heart, and then quickly vanished.

But her voice, at this moment, granted Karen a sudden surge of clarity.

Karen began to find his current anger utterly baffling.

"Why has it come to this?"

Even if she truly was Ankara, why did he harbor such deep hatred for her?

And from where did this hysterical urge to destroy her originate?

Was it the negative influence brought upon him by the Eye of the Dark Moon?

No, impossible; its adverse effects on him could not possibly be this profound.

"Papa... Papa... don't leave me... please, I beg you, don't leave me..."

The young girl seemed to summon her courage, throwing her arms tightly around Cullen from behind once more.

Cullen's body began to tremble, that impulse for destruction raging like whiskey frantically poured into a skull that had been pried open, nearly drowning out all his reason.

It was just like... an onset of the hunger addiction.

Cullen snapped his head up.

The hunger addiction!

The same madness, the same uncontrollability, the same arousal of the deepest cravings within his heart!

They were so remarkably similar; this feeling was like the same entity wearing a different skin.

Cullen spread his palm, and a ball of the Fire of Light materialized, before he slowly pressed his palm against his own chest.

The Fire of Light, burning the soul!

"Ah..."

A muffled groan escaped Cullen's throat. Although this act of self-mutilation did indeed help elevate his threshold for pain, it did not mean it truly ceased to hurt; in fact, it remained an unimaginably agonizing torture in this world.

"Ahhhhh!!!

!

!

"

However, to Cullen's utter shock, the young girl who had been embracing him let out a shriek countless times more intense than his own, a scream that nearly pierced Cullen's eardrums and made his very soul feel as though it were being torn apart.

Moreover, the moment the girl began to shriek, the urge to destroy her within Cullen's heart instantly faded.

Finally, Cullen decided to turn around, looking back for the very first time at the young girl.

Her features were delicate, so exquisite that she looked as though she had walked straight out of a painting.

In fact, she was identical to the figure in the murals of Cullen's cognition; she was the young Ankara who had appeared in the murals of the Church of Order.

In the murals of other churches, the proportion of children appearing was quite high, and they often appeared as innocent and romantic figures to heighten the propaganda atmosphere of "affinity" and "friendliness" of their respective faiths;

In the murals of the Church of Order, the proportion of children appearing was extremely low, the most classic figure being Ankara, the daughter of the God of Order, but her childhood image was neither innocent nor romantic, reflecting instead a meticulousness pursued by the Church of Order, the kind of child who was clearly well-bred and well-disciplined at a glance.

At this moment, Ankara stood before Cullen, clutching her head and screaming, her agony so palpable you could feel it as your own.

Cullen moved the Fire of Light away from his body, and Ankara's shrieks gradually subsided.

She raised her head, looking at Cullen once more.

Cullen then forced the Fire of Light back into his soul.

"Ahhh!!"

Ankara screamed again.

Was she bearing his pain?

No, it was more than just that.

Cullen moved the Fire of Light away yet again, and Ankara quieted down, the gaze she directed toward Cullen devoid of hatred, still filled with that adoration and affection for a father.

"Papa, hug!"

Ankara raised her arms. Facing such a little girl, it was difficult not to feel a surge of affection for her.

With a child like this, if you told her not to make a racket while riding a train, she would sit quietly in her seat, and even if she watched other children running wild and screaming around her, she would not have the slightest desire to join in.

Cullen took a deep breath and opened his arms.

He was not captivated by her lovely appearance and temperament; rather, he wanted to conduct an experiment, acting as the experimenter while simultaneously serving as the subject.

"Heehee."

Seeing Cullen's response, Ankara flashed a sweet smile, then jogged over, wrapping her arms around Cullen's waist and pressing her face against Cullen's stomach.

The instant they touched, the impulse to destroy her inside Cullen's heart instantly shattered most of his sanity, a crimson hue flashing in Cullen's gaze as his hands, which had not closed to embrace her, subconsciously moved toward the young girl's neck.

"Papa, you are so good, let's never separate, never."

The intimate voice of a "daughter" should have been the most beautiful celestial music to a father, but now, it felt like heavy hammer blows smashing ruthlessly against Cullen's chest, forcing him to produce an even stronger impulse to destroy her.

Cullen conjured a ball of the Fire of Light once more and shoved it into his chest.

"Ah..."

"Ahhh!!"

The same situation as before unfolded; he first let out a painful groan, followed immediately by an even more violent shriek from Ankara's mouth.

Once she began to scream, the wrathful impulse in Cullen's heart instantly plummeted, and he regained his clarity.

But this time, Ankara merely clung to Cullen tightly without letting go, no matter how much pain she was in.

Dazedly, Cullen asked, "Who... are you really?"

Ankara did not answer, continuing to scream.

Cullen moved the Fire of Light out of his body, and Ankara quieted down, but the wrath in Cullen's heart flared up anew at that very moment.

"Who... are you really!"

Cullen let out a low growl, reaching out to push away the young girl who was embracing him.

The two of them separated.

The difference was that Ankara remained standing right there, while Cullen himself was sent flying backwards a great distance, crashing heavily onto the ground.

Ankara opened her arms once more, wanting to come and find Cullen, but across the mere dozens of meters that originally separated them, Ankara kept running, yet could never reach Cullen.

Sitting on the ground, Cullen reached out his hand somewhat blankly; in his line of sight, a layer of membrane seemed to have appeared.

Memory fragments, these were memory fragments, Cullen could clearly perceive that he had entered that kind of atmosphere.

Everything that had been unreasonable before now became reasonable, but what was the deal with that special phase at the very beginning? That seemed to... originate from himself?

Ankara kept crying, though no longer with those shrieks, but with sorrowful weeping, constantly searching for her father yet never able to touch him.

Around her, those cute little animals gradually clustered about, beginning to offer her comfort.

This should have been a very beautiful and heartwarming scene: the father was away from home, the young girl missed her father and was weeping, and so many cute little animals came to keep her company;

But in the eyes of Cullen, the onlooker, all of this appeared so entirely discordant.

Because Ankara’s weeping was not something these lovely little creatures and fairy-tale surroundings could remedy; she should not have been here. Yes, this place was indeed beautiful, but placing her here was, in itself, a form of imprisonment.

She was a girl crying for her father, yet she was no ordinary girl possessed of childlike innocence; what she desired was not this.

Right then, Karen’s vision suddenly turned dark, like a painting forcefully splashed over more than half its canvas with ink; Karen could now only see the spot where Ankara was.

She sat on the steps crying, accompanied by a cluster of little animals at her side.

The black ink continuously crept closer to her;

She raised her head blankly, looked ahead, and then wiped away her tears with force, a smile appearing on her face:

"Hehe, Father, Father!"

"Did you cry?"

A man’s voice rang out, and when his voice appeared, it was as if this memory suffered a violent shudder; an invisible force was pushing Karen out.

Originally, this was the outcome Karen had wanted; he did not wish to connect with or spy on secrets, but now, Karen chose to forcefully resist this pushing force—he wanted to stay, he wanted to keep watching!

Because the next scene would very likely have a direct relationship with him, involving... the hunger addiction!

"It’s Ankara being naughty, Ankara shouldn't cry, Ankara shouldn't cry, but Father isn't here, Ankara misses Father, misses him so, so much..."

"Is it me that you miss?"

"Yes, Father, I miss you so much."

"Is it me that you miss, my darling?"

"Of course, Ankara misses you, Father."

"You are hungry, aren't you?"

"Hehe, can't hide it from Father; I am hungry, Father take me to eat something delicious."

Ankara extended her arms, wanting to embrace the ink-like blackness before her that Karen could not see; within that, the God of Order should be standing.

But right then, Karen saw a hand reach out from that dynamically flowing blackness, and between the fingers of that hand was a bookmark.

Upon seeing the bookmark, Ankara stopped her embracing gesture, turning instead to stare fixedly at this bookmark, swallowing her saliva.

"My darling, have you thought about who you are prepared to eat?"

Ankara looked up at her father with some embarrassment, like a shy child carefully concealing that little bit of desire in her heart.

"Mhm."

"Then write down his name, and then, he will appear on your dining table."

"Alright, Father, hehe."

As recorded in the mythological narratives of the "Light of Order," Ankara was the daughter of the God of Order, who was later cast into the mouth of a ferocious beast by the God of Order for violating order, thereby achieving the Light of Order.

Her image in the murals was that of Ankara falling into the mouth of the ferocious beast, her body shattering to pieces.

The largest official Order reception hotel in the York City region was called the Ankara Hotel, with the top floor being the Ankara Memorial Hall; within the Church of Order, Ankara had never been a negative figure, she was more like a "sacrificial victim" to explain the spirit of order, having fulfilled her historical mission, and symbolically speaking, she could even be considered great.

Karen’s eyes widened instantly, because he realized a truth, a truth that almost overturned all the mythological narratives' descriptions of Ankara:

It turned out that the God of Order casting his own daughter into the mouth of the ferocious beast was perhaps not to achieve the Light of Order, but because he simply wanted to destroy his own daughter.

Because, Ankara was actually the... hunger addiction that the God of Order had stripped from the deepest recesses of his own soul!