Gun of Ashes

The old man’s voice gradually slowed down, 042 looked at this old man, his eyes downcast, yet a youthful smile still lingered on his withered face.

It was almost unbelievable; 042 felt as if he had come to know the old man anew today. This suffocating old man surprisingly had such an ordinary past.

”He said the world he saw was so beautiful, so beautiful that sometimes he was willing to dedicate his life to searching for that era. But later, he died, just like many demon hunters’ end.”

The old man leaned back against the chair, looking at the dark rock overhead, his gaze seeming to pierce through the barriers to see the beautiful sky.

”It was a beautiful era, the sky stained with the golden hue of the sunset, no demons, no erosion, people played by the seaside, the cool waves lapping at their ankles...

He called it the Golden Era and chased after it all his life, but until his death, he never glimpsed a fraction of its beauty.”

”I think he was quite foolish, sacrificing everything for something so elusive. Why didn’t he heed my advice? If he were willing to stay in Florence, I would’ve let him live a safe life and found him a good teacher to save his lamentable painting skills, but he died...

At the time it didn’t seem like much, but one day later, I suddenly felt very sad...”

The old man’s face was expressionless, neither joyful nor sorrowful, as if wearing an unknown mask.

”It was then I realized, I, Lorenzo de’ Medici, have lived so long, yet only had him as a friend, and my only friend died, killed by a demon.”

”Are you going to avenge him? Kill all the demons?” 042 asked.

”How could I? Who would avenge that fool? I am Lorenzo de’ Medici; if I do well enough, I might even become Pope. Power, wealth, women—aren’t they more interesting than vengeance? Moreover, avenging a demon hunter without even a name, only a number, it’s too ridiculous.”

The old man laughed, as if the supposed sadness just now was nothing but lies.

”But one day I saw a painting, precisely the painting he once made for me, depicting the Golden Era... Alas, but his painting was truly terrible. I stared at that painting for a long time, unable to comprehend what he was trying to depict.

But then I suddenly realized, the so-called Golden Era doesn’t exist in this world, no matter how that fool pursued, it was all mere illusion.”

Lorenzo de’ Medici’s cold face melted, like a fierce beast, his withered skin crumpling together, revealing a terrifying smile.

”But... although the Golden Era doesn’t truly exist, it can be created.”

”I’ve already attained everything a mortal could acquire, even the most expensive wine seems like plain water to me. Everything in the world holds no meaning for me, except for the Golden Era existing only in that fool’s mind, and that fool has died, leaving behind ludicrous paintings.”

Lorenzo de’ Medici stared directly into 042’s eyes, beneath his muddled gaze lay a bound soul, youthful and furious, yet dragged into death by this ever-aging body.

”042, in that moment I seemed to find my life’s meaning. I want to see what the Golden Era truly looks like, I want to know what the fool ultimately wanted to show me with his paintings.”

The aged voice was calm, yet hidden with anger, with blue veins protruding under his shriveled skin. In an instant, the old man seemed to transform into some kind of evil anomaly.

”I, Lorenzo de’ Medici, will create the Golden Era.”

Then, a sinister laughter echoed, as he said,

”But in that beautiful era, there’s no place for demons.”