Chapter 170: Leonard: The Stars, a Sinister and Dangerous Terrorist Organization

Chapter 170: Leonard: The Stars, a Sinister and Dangerous Terrorist Organization

Silence.

Not a sound to be heard.

Leonard's mouth hung slightly open as he gazed at the blond youth before him, seemingly lost in sorrow.

For the first time, he felt the mercilessness of fate, to have such a person appear before him.

The poetry that should have belonged to him tonight was forcibly taken away by half, and he seemed to fade into the background, overshadowed by another's dazzling brilliance.

"Sigh."

A heavy sigh escaped Leonard's throat. With a complex expression, he stared at Hastur for a long time before softly saying, "Beckland truly deserves its reputation as the world's city of hope, a place of miracles."

"How is my poem?"

"Very good."

Leonard nodded, noticing that the other didn't seem proud of his work, and asked curiously, "When and under what circumstances did you create this poem?"

"Just now, while you were reciting your poetry."

Crack.

It was as if something had cracked from an external force.

Leonard looked down and realized it was his own fragile and sensitive heart.

"That's really nice."

Leonard's face revealed an inscrutable smile as he earnestly said, "Hastur, your poetic talent is quite remarkable; you're well-suited to be a poet."

"I'm just an amateur; poetry isn't my forte."

"…"

Whoosh.

A gust of wind blew by, seemingly carrying something away.

Leonard looked into the distance, realizing that his heart had turned to dust and was carried away by the breeze.

"What's wrong?"

The concerned words brought Leonard back from his distant gaze, and he forced a smile, saying, "Nothing. I've just suddenly come to understand some things."

"What things?"

"There's no need to cling too tightly to some invisible things in life."

"That's a very sensible thing to say; you're indeed an excellent poet."

Leonard's smile deepened, thick as the makeup smeared on a clown during a performance.

It's a pity he wasn't of the Clown sequence; otherwise, he would have fully digested the potion by now.

After a long while and several glasses of Southville beer, Leonard finally calmed his emotions and asked tentatively, "Hastur, how do you think one should write a good poem?"

Learn to hit the Enter key.

Break a complete sentence into two or three parts, then add some seemingly profound yet vague phrases.

Mix them together in twos and threes, and finally, learn to leave some space.

Hastur silently criticized in his mind.

"I think a good poem should be sincere. The abundant emotions of humanity are our greatest weapon, not pretentiousness or old tunes sung by the young."

Hastur offered a decent suggestion. A poem that can move people is truly worth singing.

Emotion, infecting others with genuine feelings, resonating with readers and listeners, immersing them so deeply they can't extricate themselves.

As for the embellishment and construction of words, they are merely the skin of a poem. The overall structure is the skeleton, but emotion is the true soul.

Many poets have nothing but a beautiful exterior without a remarkable soul.

Of course, sometimes they are not only ugly on the outside but also lack a skeleton, like a puddle of mud on the ground.

And the soul?

That shiny, foul-smelling black water next to it.

"Hastur, you really should write poetry; you should let more people appreciate your work."

Leonard's eyes almost shone as the conversation deepened, and he increasingly felt that the blond youth before him was a poetic genius.

"Compared to writing, I'm better at satire and criticism."

Hastur was well aware of his strengths.

Seeing that Leonard was about to persuade him further, Hastur smiled and said, "Emotion is the fountain of poetry. If one insists too much, it will only lose the beauty of poetry and become a tool for poetic words."

"Alright."

Leonard found the statement sensible but also felt it was a pity for Hastur.

If he had such poetic talent, he would wake up laughing from his dreams.

As the two continued their conversation, people nearby mentioned the Followers of the Stars.

With the situation fermenting, the topic of the Followers of the Stars was no longer confined to the extraordinary world; even ordinary people had heard a thing or two.

In their eyes, this was an emerging cult, a terrorist organization.

The recent major events in Beckland were all caused by these Followers of the Stars.

Leonard and Hastur, who had been listening quietly, both looked displeased.

The two exchanged a smile, and Leonard deliberately said, "The Followers of the Stars, huh? Recently, it seems to be a trend in Beckland to search for their traces."

"After all, the rewards are substantial. Even the police have posted bounties. Anyone who finds traces or information related to the Followers of the Stars can receive a considerable reward," Hastur joined in the topic.

"Do you know anything about the Followers of the Stars?"

"Not much, how about you?"

"Me? I don't know much either. I've only recently come to Beckland and don't know much about what's happened here."

Leonard smiled innocently, pretending to be unaware.

Hastur thought for a moment and said, "I heard that the Followers of the Stars have been spotted recently, but I don't know what they look like."

"They probably look quite decent."

"Have you seen them?"

"I've only heard about them. They're said to look decent and scholarly."

"I see. If I have the chance, I'd like to meet this Follower of the Stars."

Leonard swirled his empty glass, curious, "Why are you interested in him?"

"I'm just curious about what kind of person would be protected by the stars."

"That's not necessarily a good thing."

Leonard thought for a moment, deciding to remind the eloquent Mr. Hastur.

"Now, even the people from the seven orthodox churches are looking for the Followers of the Stars, which shows that it's an extremely sinister and dangerous organization. We ordinary people should avoid any contact with them."

"Extremely sinister and dangerous?"

Hastur's eyes narrowed slightly, and he said with a smile, "But I haven't heard of any terrible things done by these Followers of the Stars?"

"That's just the surface. Perhaps the recent murders were their doing."

"But the police haven't found the murderer, have they? How do you know it was the Followers of the Stars?"

Leonard laughed it off, "It's just a guess, not necessarily true, but one thing is certain, staying away from them definitely won't hurt."

"That's true."

Hastur raised his glass to Leonard's, saying with a smile, "We ordinary people should indeed stay away from them."

"Wait a moment, I need to go to the restroom."

Leonard drank another glass of beer, finally unable to ignore the bloating in his belly, and stood up to head to the restroom.

"The Followers of the Stars."

Hastur murmured to himself, ordering another glass of fruit wine and sipping it slowly.

He was considering whether to expose the impostor masquerading as a Follower of the Stars. Allowing him to continue his charade could ruin the reputation of the Stars.

Although he didn't care much, it still bothered him.

He hadn't done anything, yet he had to bear the blame for the chaos in Beckland.

Those who blaspheme against the divine should indeed be punished.

After a while, Leonard returned from the restroom with a spring in his step, then ordered three glasses of Southville beer and some snacks from the bartender.

By the looks of it, he planned to drink late into the night.

Hastur checked his pocket watch; it was already past eleven.

They had chatted late into the night, and it was time to go home and rest.

After all, Beckland wasn't very peaceful lately, and it was best not to linger outside too long.

"Hastur, would you like to continue drinking?"

Hearing Leonard offer to buy him a drink, Hastur, holding his half-finished fruit wine, shook his head, "I've had enough tonight, and I need to go home to rest. Maybe another time."

Leonard seemed disappointed and sighed as he approached.

Hastur glanced at him and said, "You seem troubled tonight?"

"Why do you say that?"

"You look like you're planning to drink until dawn. People who drink alone deep into the night usually have a lot on their minds. Only then can they down so much liquor."

"That's well said."

Leonard didn't reveal his true situation but talked about the difficulties he faced upon arriving in Beckland.

For instance, the high cost of living, being a stranger in a new place, and being busy with work, among other things.

Hastur listened quietly, and after finishing the drink with Leonard, he stood up to leave. Before departing, he told Leonard that if he ever wanted to have a drink, he could try his luck here or leave a message with the bartender.

Leonard said he would come to find him for a drink when he had time, then watched as Hastur left in a carriage.

"Without an excellent drinking companion, drinking just isn't as enjoyable."

Leonard sighed, thinking of Klein.

This friend, whom he had known since Tingen, was good in many ways, but his tolerance for alcohol was mediocre, making it hard to drink heartily with him.

Hmm, Klein's poetry skills also seemed quite average, right?

Indeed, people like Mr. Hastur tonight, who possess both talent and looks, are truly a rare breed.

Leonard silently drank his beer until the bar closed at dawn, then prepared to leave.

As he was leaving, the bartender told him that

As he was leaving, the bartender told him that Mr. Hastur had already paid for his drinks in advance.

"Ah, to receive such a treat upon my arrival in Beckland, I must indeed be a charming person."

Leonard mused with a sense of appreciation, hailed a carriage, and returned to the Saint Samuel Cathedral in the North District.

(End of Chapter)