Lynx Duke leaned back in her seat, gazing at the enormous storybook floating in the air.
A quill pen was writing across its pages. From time to time, the pen would move back to earlier sections, crossing out what it deemed unnecessary lines and useless plot points.
B80 sat at a round table nearby, carefully peeling grapes for Lynx Duke.
The little robot was trembling. It could clearly sense that Lynx Duke's mood was getting worse and worse. Not just her—the quill itself was growing increasingly irritable. Its tip nearly tore through the paper, the scratching sound becoming faster and harsher.
"In the darkness, the exhausted Postman, with nowhere left to run, opened the letter in her hand with a resolute expression. Even if she was going to die, she wanted to understand why Postmen could not open letters.
"When the letter unfolded, her pupils trembled. 'So that's it. So I am the source of the curse.'"
Lynx Duke: "........."
