Chapter 393 - 7.83 Shovel Talk
Horrifying, inhuman screeches continued to drift out of the basement door. It would be utterly appalling if everyone here had not gotten used to such a thing.
And all the time, Moshe was waiting outside, sitting on a folded chair with his legs crossed and listening with a somber look on his face. He only stepped away to make a phone call and aside from that, all he did was wait with that indecipherable look on his face.
Around half an hour after he made the call, a group of men arrived at the basecamp, gave him a respectful bow before lining up on the wall beside him. Lu Yizhou noticed that most of them were much older, around Ezra’s age or more, most likely those who had been working for The Void even before Moshe took over the mantle.
The whole proceeding felt strangely sacred and solemn, thus Lu Yizhou did nothing but stand by Moshe’s side. Whenever Moshe felt tired, he would lean against Lu Yizhou’s torso and close his eyes for a few minutes, only the barest tilt of head that was so inconspicuous that no one noticed it. After that, he would straighten up once again and offer his hand a squeeze. Lu Yizhou squeezed back equally, if not much harder, wishing he could take the shadow of fatigue away from Moshe’s clouded eyes.
Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes gradually shifted to hours. Cruz’s scream grew hoarse, weaker and weaker until nothing remained but silence.
[666: Host, Cruz is— all of the bugs are finally cleared from this world.]
It was near 2 am by the time the door swung open once again to reveal the thin figure of Ezra.
He was staggering on his feet, blood splattered across his clothes and skin. In the span of one night, his cheeks had sunken deep. He looked thin, so haggard and exhausted as if he had aged a decade... yet his eyes shone bright. It was the brightest Lu Yizhou had ever seen of him, as though the dark shadow chasing after him had finally been liberated. What remained was nothing other than... relief.
Moshe stood up, drawing Ezra’s attention to him. The latter paused as he eyed Moshe warily. Not the kind of wary that screamed murder, but the curious kind of wary.
"Why...?" He asked with a hoarse voice. One word that contained so many questions; why haven’t you killed me? Why are you doing this? Why are you still here?
Moshe did not answer. From Lu Yizhou’s position, he could not see the man’s expression. But Lu Yizhou hadn’t just known Moshe for a day or two. The lines on his shoulders were more tense than usual and his fists were loosely clenched. He was restless.