Manufacturing the Dark Continent

Original title: The Duchess of Anglin

Xiao Yi recounts what happened after she left home, especially over the past year, in the confessional:

She says she fell in love with an "angel" who looks just like Gabriel, bearing flowers to deliver a message.

The priest shakes his head. "Red eyes" are no good omen. The person you love may not be an angel.

She also says her ex-boyfriend came from Meteor City. He and the group he treasures have committed countless misdeeds, but he's very gentle.

The priest says nothing, but Xiao Yi knows he doesn't approve.

She says she admires a certain bewitching "demon" whose moods are unpredictable and who may even be a little twisted. In fact, he's a typical Hunter.

The priest has fallen silent.

There's a heretic who talks to himself, she says. He's the target all three of the aforementioned gentlemen are obsessed with, and he took on an unforgivable crime in her place.

She says a killer shattered her peaceful life when she was nine, but ten years later she found him wicked and irresistible.

She says she's been used to tragic destinies since childhood. This "gift" was given to her by her ancestors, but it isn't a blessing.

She still wants to say...

The priest drives her out. You are no lamb of God. You betray God, kill your kin, and are unclean. Your eyes bear the mark of the devil

No, she says, you should admire me.

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This story has a CP. Stop guessing: the boy and the girl will end up together.

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Sorry, I changed the title again. Although The Duchess of Anglin was a name I was quite proud of, it didn't seem to convey the derivative-work theme at all, so you see.

I'm still very grateful to everyone who clicked after seeing the original title. I hope I can change it back once the story is complete.

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Please follow my new original story:

1. Nothing in Tokyo Is Unforgivable

"South of the border, west of the sun", we are all farmers, born to work from sunrise to sunset. One day, you look toward where the sun sets and suddenly go mad, drop your hoe, and head west, toward the place beyond the sun, to "martyrdom," to become Kuafu or Icarus, melting when you reach the sun, dying of thirst on the way.

The double-crossing desk mate puts down his perfect-score essay and says, "Holy, shit. There's no way you came up with something this cringe!"

Qianxin: "You dumb [bleep]. Haruki Murakami said that. What else is in that head of yours besides a chrysanthemum blooming out of it?"

The double-crossing desk mate with a chrysanthemum blooming from his head: "Shit, are you sure that wasn't Lu Xun?"

Theme: Even in a living hell, never give up longing for paradise.