【Interstellar Contract Magician】Ruyuanke

Chapter 330 [Empire] Maybe... it's us.

The air froze instantly at these words. Nightingale narrowed her eyes slightly, her expression no longer one of casual teasing, but one of subtle solemnity. "What did you say? You're feeding it... yourself?"

I didn't answer, but just lowered my eyes and stared at the zipper of my backpack as my fingers tightened slightly.

"It devoured my thoughts and mental strength... At that time, I didn't even know what it was." I said softly, as if recounting a story that had nothing to do with me. "It was right beside me, like a parasite, constantly absorbing my consciousness, even in my dreams... controlling my thoughts."

Nightingale was silent. He looked at me, as if trying to figure out the truth in my words, but he didn't interrupt.

"I've been feeding it for a long time." My voice deepened, memories flooding back like a late-night tide. "It felt like I was being hollowed out bit by bit by something I'd created. I even wondered if it would soon 'eat' me completely."

"So what happened next?" Nightingale's voice was a little depressed. He looked at me, frowning slightly. "How did you survive?"

I gave a wry smile and shook my head slightly. "Later, I accidentally discovered that it could eat plants. That's when I realized it wasn't completely dependent on me. As long as I provide it with enough energy, I can temporarily divert its 'attention'."

"Plants?" Nightingale raised an eyebrow and glanced at my backpack. "You mean, the branches and leaves of those combat plants?"

"Yes." I nodded, my tone calm as if I were describing a perfectly ordinary event. "Battle plants, energy crystals, and even seeds from other mutant plants...it eats almost anything. As long as the energy is strong enough, it will become less dependent on me."

Nightingale leaned back in her chair and stared at me with a complicated expression: "So, you are still feeding it now?"

"Yes." I raised my head and met his gaze with an indescribable complex emotion. "But not to keep it alive, but to control it."

Nightingale was silent for a moment, then suddenly chuckled softly, a somewhat bitter laugh: "It sounds like... you're raising a man-eating monster."

“It’s a monster, and it’s not,” I whispered, my eyes falling on the backpack again. “Although it once devoured me, it also allowed me to survive. Its dangerous instincts have saved my life.”

Nightingale didn't say anything else. He just stared at me for a while, then shook his head. "Boy, your story is getting crazier and crazier. But..."

He changed the subject, a teasing smile on his face: "If you really want to open a farm, remember to help me. Although I am afraid of death, I am indeed interested in this dangerous business."

I didn't respond, but just pulled my backpack back on.

Looking at Nightingale's expression, I couldn't help but laugh. There was a hint of teasing and deliberate lightness in my laughter. "Nightingale, isn't it time for you to reassess the mental state of your partner?"

Nightingale raised an eyebrow, a rather insincere smile playing on the corner of her mouth. "Evaluation? I've already evaluated it, kid. Your mental state has been out of the normal range from the beginning."

"Oh?" I raised my eyebrows, feigning interest. "So what's your conclusion? 'Mentally ill but temporarily serviceable'?"

Nightingale nodded in mock seriousness and said with a hint of cynicism, "That's right. Although you're dangerous and a bit crazy, at least you're efficient. So far, it's not to the point where I need to stay away from you."

I was amused by his tone and couldn't help but chuckle. "You say that as if you're normal."

Nightingale shrugged and said half-jokingly and half-seriously, "Of course. I'm the most normal one among you crazy people. Otherwise, how could I have survived until now?"

I shook my head helplessly, leaning back in my chair, and said with a hint of indifferent joking, "Since your partner has mental problems, aren't you worried that one day I'll drag you into some uncontrollable danger?"

Nightingale glanced at me sideways, a sly smile on her lips. "Don't try that on me. You're crazy, but I'm better at avoiding danger. If anything goes wrong, I'll be the first to run. I won't waste my life with you."

"Okay." I smiled softly, my eyes drifting to the window. "Then I hope you can run faster than those dangers."

The air was silent for a moment, and Nightingale suddenly added in a low voice: "But to be honest, kid... I admire you very much."

I turned around and looked at him in surprise: "Oh? That doesn't sound like your style."

Nightingale spread her hands, her expression returning to a somewhat lazy state. "Honestly, not everyone has the courage to coexist with something like that and persist for so long. Although I may not necessarily do it the way you do, I have to say... you are indeed special."

I was slightly stunned, then smiled faintly: "Thank you."

Nightingale grinned. "You're welcome. I'm just telling the truth. But there's one thing you have to remember—no matter what your mental state is, as long as you don't drag me down, I'm willing to continue cooperating."

"What are you talking about, Nightingale? The things you play with are much more dangerous than mine." I smiled nonchalantly, my eyes slightly raised with a hint of provocation, "Which of those 'properties' of yours won't devour you?"

Nightingale was stunned for a moment, then a meaningful smile appeared on his face. He leaned back in his chair, a hint of amusement in his eyes: "You say it easily. But no matter how dangerous my 'industries' are, they all have one premise - I control them."

"Control?" I laughed contemptuously. "You mean you only dare to approach them when you can use them as toys?"

Nightingale's smile didn't change at all, instead it became more confident. "Of course. Toys are for playing, but control is not something you can just talk about."

I shook my head, a hint of sarcasm in my eyes. "It's a pity there are still many things you can't control. After all, those guys are stronger than you. No matter how good you are at playing, it's hard to hide the fear in your heart."

A deep light flashed in Nightingale's eyes, as if he didn't care about what I said. He raised his eyebrows slightly and said leisurely, "Fear? You do have some truth in what you say. However, it is precisely because they are so powerful that I have more fun controlling them."

I raised the corner of my mouth slightly, and the mockery intensified. "Control? Nightingale, you are a typical overconfident lunatic. You think you can control all dangers, but in fact, you are just a fool playing with fire and getting burned."

Nightingale's smile froze for a moment, and a sharp flash flashed in her eyes, but she quickly regained her composure. "Maybe you're right. Sometimes I feel like I'm playing with fire."

I paused, then glanced at him coldly. "But, Nightingale, don't you think that dancing with danger might lead to you making a wrong move and kicking your own foot?"

Nightingale didn't say anything more, just smiled softly: "Then it depends on who dances better and who can control it longer."

After the words fell, we fell into a brief silence. I stopped talking and turned my gaze to the outside of the car, my mind still echoing with the words just now. Nightingale's confidence and innate sense of danger are truly not to be underestimated. But at the same time, I also know that his so-called control is really as impeccable as he claims.

"Who is crazier?" I couldn't help but ask myself in a low voice, turning my gaze to Nightingale again.

He still sat there, his lazy yet confident demeanor intact, as if he had everything under control and nothing to worry about. Yet, I felt a subtle unease, a deep sense of crisis I had never experienced before.

We're all playing with fire, yet no one seems to be truly in control. Nightingale's smile remained plastered on his face, calm and composed, as if he could always find a way out of any predicament. But I knew that beneath that calmness lay a deeper madness than I could imagine.

"You're such a good pretender," I said with a disdainful smile, "You always act like you're fearless, but in reality, you're not as calm as you appear."

Nightingale raised his eyebrows slightly, the smile on his lips still not fading: "What do you think?" He leaned back in his chair, seeming to not care about my questioning at all.

"You're clearly a gambler, yet you pretend to be in control." I took a deep breath, my tone becoming sharper. "You dare to risk your life, yet you're terrified of the moment you lose control. Your so-called 'control' is nothing more than an excuse for your fear of losing everything."

Nightingale's eyes flickered with a flicker at my words. He still smiled, but his eyes revealed some complicated emotions: "Sometimes, crazy people can see things that others can't see." He whispered, his tone seemed to carry some helplessness, and it seemed like a subtle counterattack to me.

I sneered, "Invisible things? Do you think you can always foresee the future and know when things will go wrong? But you forget that the more you foresee, the more afraid you are of losing control. In the end, you'll hold on tighter, and end up being played around with."

Nightingale didn't reply, but closed his eyes slightly, as if digesting my words. After a long pause, he spoke calmly, "Mad people and normal people are just two different ways of expressing themselves. You call us crazy, and I call you crazy, but the truth is, we're just exploring different limits."

His eyes were deep, as if he saw through all my thoughts, as if he were also speaking of his own state of mind. "You want to be more powerful, you want more control, and I want it too. We're no less crazy than each other, just in different ways."

I suddenly felt as if I were in another world. Perhaps Nightingale was right. We are all teetering on the edge, just arriving here in different ways.

He looked at me, his eyes flickering with an inexplicable light: "Who is crazier? Maybe you, maybe me, maybe... us."

These words weighed heavily on my heart.