The Divine Armor of the Old Century（Book 1）

Chapter 152

Slowly opening his eyes... In fact, Lloyd had been awake for a while, but he hadn't opened his eyes to observe where he was. He was curious about where he might find himself this time, considering the last thing he remembered was passing out on the ground.

Every time he lost consciousness, Lloyd would wake up in some strange place. Each time, the first thing he saw was a different ceiling. It seemed that these ceilings were his true "save points," marking each new beginning. So, he wondered what it would be this time. A metal ceiling? Maybe one with frescoes? Or a ceiling plastered with posters like an advertisement wall?

Finally, he opened his eyes. Before him was a pattern of interwoven brown and pale yellow, winding in intricate designs that seemed to stretch on endlessly, with light-colored drapes hanging in the corners.

Wait...

Lloyd sat up abruptly, the excruciating headache seeming to have ended. Yet, all wounds leave their marks, even mental ones, and Lloyd could still feel a faint throb in his head. But now wasn't the time to dwell on it.

He scanned his surroundings. Despite the lack of luxurious decorations, the subtle opulence of the style indicated that this was not a place someone like Lloyd could easily access. His clothes, a new outfit, and his weapons were all neatly arranged on a chair beside the soft bed, like a set of doll accessories, everything laid out clearly.

But a new question arose. If his clothes were here, what was he wearing?

Looking down, Lloyd saw that he was in a light blue pajama set, clearly not tailored for him, as it was quite loose.

"This isn't right..."

Lloyd muttered to himself. Having survived in Old Dunlin for so many years, he had seen all kinds of situations. If he had woken up hanging and ready to be executed, he wouldn't have been surprised. But now, in such a place... This was unprecedented.

"Maybe I'm still dreaming..."

Lloyd thought and decided to test it. He lay back down and pulled the blanket over his head. After about a minute, he sat up again.

He couldn't sleep.

Climbing out of bed, Lloyd grabbed his Winchester and walked out of the room. A demon hunter of his caliber had faced countless dangers.

Outside was a silent hallway, with a carpet stretching to the end of his sight. Through a window, Lloyd could see Old Dunlin's gloomy sky, the solid walls extending down to the ground, and the garden area separating the crowded streets from the building.

"You're awake?"

A voice suddenly spoke behind him. Instinctively, Lloyd swung the butt of his Winchester, only to see a familiar face.

"Good morning, Mr. Holmes."

The unexpected guest, Arve, tried his best to put on a friendly smile.

Lloyd looked at Arve, then at the scenery outside the window, seemingly understanding where he was.

He felt a bit awkward.

"How... am I here?"

"Well... that's a bit of a complicated story," Arve said, stepping past Lloyd and gesturing for him to follow.

...

It was a somewhat absurd scene. Under a finely crafted crystal chandelier, a long table stood in the center of the room, with a fire crackling in the fireplace. The attendants left after serving breakfast, leaving only Arve, the meticulous old butler, standing nearby.

At one end of the table was the young mistress of the house, and beside her was Lloyd, struggling to eat.

"So... why did you come out in pajamas? And with a gun?"