Girl Doesn’t Die in Fairytale Town: Chapter 60 – When Will Old Friends Meet Again
“Seventeen…”
A frail old man, half-leaning on his chair, shakily picked up a pair of thick glasses and placed them on his nose, his clouded eyes peering at Grifres through the lenses.
He was the leader of “Dawn,” the last “Mister.”
Time had left countless marks on him. Wrinkles covered his withered skin, each breath seemingly labored.
Mister seemed to be barely clinging to life.
“…I’m here.”
Grifres lowered his head, his burly figure appearing unusually thin and frail.
“You’re injured, Seventeen.”
Mister’s dry lips barely moved, his voice slurred as if he had phlegm caught in his throat. “Come, let me see…”
Mister seemed to have aged considerably since their last meeting, his frail body supported by a skeletal frame, his energy greatly weakened.
He didn’t ask Grifres about the details of the mission, only concerned about his injuries.
“There’s no need, Mister,” Grifres said in a low voice. “Just minor injuries, nothing serious. I’ll recover in a few days.”
Grifres knew what Mister wanted to do, but with his current condition, he wouldn’t last much longer. If it was for him…
No, he couldn’t allow that.
Mister twitched his lips, seemingly smiling.
“Young people, it’s good to be young…”
He didn’t insist further, simply sighing and leaning back in his chair.
His briefly clear eyes clouded over once more.
“It must be tiring for you all, looking after a dying old man like me,” Mister closed his eyes slowly, his wrinkled eyelids covering his dim eyes. “There are still so many things I want to do, but it seems… it’s too late.”
“No, no, that’s not true!”
Grifres immediately became anxious.
“You are the last Mister of ‘Dawn,’ our spiritual pillar!”
“It’s our honor to follow in your footsteps!”
“But I’m also Dawn’s last burden, am I not?” Mister opened his eyes slightly, a world-weary look in his gaze. “You’ve all grown up. You no longer need a ‘Mister’.”
In the New Era, the concepts of nations and factions from the Old World had been shattered.
After the unimaginable horror—the Calamity Tide—ended, and the first true mega-city, “Noah,” was established, a new era for humanity began.
Countless mega-cities rose, and humanity’s exploration of the new world never ceased.
But… not all humans were worthy of boarding the “Noah’s Ark” of the new world.
When the first “Calamity Infected” were discovered, these individuals, possessing fragments of the Calamities’ powers and occasionally becoming “walking disasters,” were met with vigilance, exclusion, and fear… No one wanted to accept them.
Once their “Calamity Infected” status was discovered, regardless of their previous status, they were expelled from the mega-cities, becoming refugees in the wasteland.
—Until “Dawn” appeared.
No one knew where the founders of Dawn, the original nine “Misters,” came from. Even the last surviving Mister never spoke of it.
But “Dawn” was willing to accept all those expelled from the mega-cities, offering a home to these lonely, pitiful people.
It was because of Dawn’s existence that the mega-cities began to re-examine the “Calamity Infected.”
Through a series of studies, humanity finally managed to create… or rather, discover… safe “Calamity Infected,” known as “ability users.”
Some humans born in the New Era, after coming into contact with purified Calamity matter, could awaken special powers, similar to the “Calamity Infected.”
And most importantly, although weaker, the abilities of ability users were controllable.
—It could be likened to getting vaccinated, although only a small portion of humanity was eligible. Forced use would result in death.
Eventually, with these breakthroughs, almost all mega-cities established relatively complete ability user management systems, known as the “Anomaly Management Bureau.”
Ability users gradually became the pillars of the New Era.
And “Dawn,” the catalyst for all this, became a force to be reckoned with in the new world, an organization composed of over ninety percent ability users.
The once isolated and helpless “home for the Calamity Infected”… no longer existed.
Over the years, the nine Misters passed away one by one, and the children they had taken in gradually took control of Dawn.
The new Dawn was ambitious, constantly clashing with the Free Federation formed by the mega-cities, but they had remained relatively restrained, partly due to the respected Misters’ influence.
But now, the last Mister was nearing the end of his life, having chosen to spend his final days in a newly established city barely a decade old—Yan City.
No one in Dawn objected.
Only a few Cadres and members were willing to stay by this respected elder’s side, their only command to ensure that Mister left this world without regrets.
“That’s not true, brothers… It’s only because we want Dawn to thrive that we couldn’t stay by your side.”
Grifres didn’t know what to say, his unblemished half of his face flushed.
Hearing the familiar term of address, established since Dawn’s founding, a smile appeared on Mister’s wrinkled face. He murmured,
“It’s alright, it’s alright…”
Regardless of status, unless they were blood relatives, Dawn members addressed each other as brothers and sisters.
At least Dawn still held onto this tradition, and that was good enough.
After speaking, Mister’s breathing grew labored, his fatigue evident.
“Mister, did you use… your ability again?”
Grifres finally noticed something amiss. Although Mister’s health had always been poor due to his age, it hadn’t deteriorated to this extent during their time in Yan City.
Unless… Mister had actively used his ability, or rather, his “Calamity Infection symptoms.”
As one of Dawn’s nine founders, Mister had lived a long life. His infection had prolonged his lifespan in a twisted way, but at the cost of constant, unimaginable pain.
No one knew the specifics of Mister’s ability, only that each use brought him closer to death, intensifying his pain and suffering.
But each use also allowed Dawn to safely weather a potentially devastating crisis.
“Just some distant memories, some unknown truths… I wanted to see them one last time.”
Mister smiled faintly, seemingly seeing phantoms of the past in the flickering candlelight, a phantom named “Luo Yan.”
“Such a pity… I’m about to die, but it’s not yet time… I still haven’t… seen her.”
“Mister…”
Grifres said worriedly.
But Mister waved his hand and whispered,
“Leave me now, I’m tired.”
Grifres wanted to say something more, but Mister had already closed his eyes, his expression peaceful, as if asleep.
So, after a moment of hesitation, Grifres left the room.
But what he didn’t see was the old photograph clutched in Mister’s hand.
Nine children smiled brightly in the photo, a tall, silent figure standing behind them, her face obscured by some force.
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