When the plot-skips players into the game world

Chapter 362

Chapter 362: Chapter 270: Solidified Fairyland Chapter 362: Chapter 270: Solidified Fairyland Sherlock stopped in his tracks, pressing his temples with a hint of a headache.

Aiwass, walking ahead of him, immediately sensed something was wrong.

He also stopped and turned around, “Are you all right, Sherlock?”

“I’m fine.”

Sherlock’s voice was cold, “I think it’s because this body is too short...

The same distance, you can walk quickly and I have to jog to keep up.

It’s tiring...

it feels like the veins in my forehead are throbbing.”

Upon hearing this, Aiwass chuckled.

But he didn’t offer any sympathetic words like “then I’ll slow down,” instead, he casually said, “You might be thirsty.

...

After all, we haven’t drunk much this afternoon.”

With that, he took out a water flask from his chest and threw it to Sherlock.

Dressed as a newsboy, Sherlock unceremoniously tipped the flask to his mouth.

Then he sprayed it out.

“...Are you sick!”

In the midst of Aiwass’s triumphant laughter, Sherlock angrily screwed the cap back on the “flask,” “I’m only thirteen or fourteen now, and you’re giving me alcohol?”

Moreover, it was hard liquor.

From just a sip, Sherlock could tell that this was a Holy Nation whiskey of more than forty degrees.

The amber-colored liquid had a unique and rich charred aroma, like roasted barley.

It also had a subtle, almost imperceptible sweetness of fruits, which lingered on the lips and teeth after a drink.

But Sherlock had a low alcohol tolerance, and he usually had to dilute it with some water to be able to drink it—or he could mix in some lemon juice and honey water.

Aiwass just leisurely took the bottle back and handed Sherlock another flask, nearly identical, “I never told you there was water in it.”

“I trusted you!”

“Don’t give me that.

You’re just lax because you’re with people you know,” Aiwass said unapologetically.

“If someone disguised as me offered you poison, would you drink it without hesitation too?

Maybe if you paused for a second or two, you could sense something was off.

But you were too quick to gulp it down—if you did, do you think I would be happy about your death?

‘Oh, my friend Sherlock died because of his trust in me, how joyful’...

Do you like that scenario?”

“...Tsk.”

Sherlock clicked his tongue, at a loss for words.

Despite feeling very annoyed, rationally he felt that Aiwass did indeed make sense.

He was even more irritated because he couldn’t refute it.

If the sun is clearly bright, but deep in the forest there isn’t a trace of light and no animals come out from it, then that path might lead to the Fairy Forest.”

As Sherlock spoke, he stretched out his hand to point forward, “Like this place—look.”

The straight path disappeared into the distance.

The surrounding trees seemed to actively make way, leaving behind a clear dirt road.

“Now it is mid-December.

Leaves and dead branches should be everywhere, but that dirt road is clean.

The leaves neatly fall on both sides of the road, as if they were swept by someone.”

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and analyzed calmly, “Just at a glance, you know something is definitely not right here, don’t you?”

Lily lowered her head with some embarrassment.

As a Transcendent of the Path of Adaptation, her intuitive perception was most attuned to sensing danger.

Yet standing here, she only felt a faint sense of inconsistency and had no sense of danger at all.

But she was a bit confused.

Is Miss Hayna living in Fairyland?

But fairies are beings of the Path of Beauty.

If this truly is Fairyland, how could Hayna, who came from here, have no adaptability to the Path of Beauty at all?

“Anyway, we should get ready to meet fairies,”

Aiwass narrowed his eyes, observing the dark unknown space at the end of the forest path, and shared some rather obscure and rare knowledge with the two, “Actually, ‘fairy’ is quite an unfriendly term to the fairies themselves, it’s considered a derogatory term.

Just like calling the ‘Son of the Moon’ a vampire, directly calling fairies ‘fairies’ will provoke their hostility.

“Compared to the Sons of the Moon, fairies have a much simpler way of thinking.

This means they say whatever they think, and do whatever they say.

Even the smallest of grievances aren’t suppressed, but instead are expressed directly.

“The correct terms are ‘our benevolent neighbors’ or ‘beings of joy’...

Make sure you remember that.”

“But,” Lily was still a bit puzzled, “Eagle Cape Village might not necessarily be Fairyland, right...”

Little Sherlock sighed.

“Haven’t you understood, Miss Lily?”

He said with a most serious tone in his youthful voice, “What Aiwass means is...

he would rather that the inhabitants here be fairies.”

As he spoke, they completely stepped into the darkness, crossing over the mountain.

After a brief silence, a ray of light pierced the darkness.

The noisy bustle came through the shadows.

The resplendent golden sunset hung in the sky, illuminating the entire village, casting long shadows.

People bustled about, voices of joy and laughter filled the air, delighting in their pleasure.

—Eagle Cape Village at dusk, was like a frozen painting.

As if it had always been this beautiful for a long time, and as if this moment could continue for a very, very long time.