Chapter 53: Strange Uncle

"Can I step on your ass?"

"Can't. Uh. Of course not. This strange uncle. I don't know what the rules are like here. We don't step on other people's butts. That's impolite - "

"Then pick it up from the ground quickly."

"Huh? Ah!! Aha. Okay, okay."

Asimov lowered his head and dug around, and sure enough he found the body part the strange uncle mentioned, and quickly grabbed it and put it on. He struck the sides of his buttocks with both fists to get the entire torso into the correct position. He moved his legs, touched his nose, and laughed. "Thank you."

The gratitude didn't cause any ripples on the other person's face - the strange uncle just shrugged his shoulders and turned around.

Asimov hurriedly followed, looking at the enigmatic figure of the other party.

The strange uncle... He is obviously not a human being. There is no such blue flame in the human eyes, no such scarlet horns on the head, and no such shining fangs in the mouth. And his attire was something he had never seen on anyone before - could such dark clothes exist without any stitches and be so complicated? And his expression and appearance...

But maybe? After all, Uncle Willy Shaw said that the world is very strange. You can't judge a person just by superficial appearance——

Or a non-person.

Asimov tried to imagine what it would be like to wear such clothes with his eyes burning.

Can't imagine.

They followed the steps on the beach. Stairs made of colorful shells. The steps were embedded in the sparkling sand, reflecting a shimmer of light - the shimmer came from starlight. From six stars. The light of six stars caressed their heads tenderly - a caress that did not hurt at all. They caressed other things, too—like the ubiquitous palm trees, which swayed rustlingly with their paper-cut leaves. Scattered coconuts fell on the ground.

The coconuts look fresh and plump like nutritious heads.

Asimov picked one up out of curiosity and spent a long time opening it.

"These coconuts... they are not red inside!" he exclaimed in surprise almost immediately.

"Coconuts are not red inside." The unfamiliar and smoky uncle replied calmly.

"It's red!" Asimov said firmly. He may not be good enough at other things, but he knows this very well. Of course coconuts are red inside. It was the red liquid inside that allowed him to grow so big - although it wasn't very big, it was definitely not small. “The coconuts I’ve seen since childhood were all red inside!”

He threw the offending coconut out. Picked up another one casually. Open. Coconut water ripples in the coconut shell. Clear and transparent.

Not red.

"Hey?!" Asimov dropped it. Picked up another one and opened it. Throw it away. Picked up another one and opened it. "All the coconuts here are spoiled!" he concluded. "Not only is the water inside not red, it's also sweet!"

"I'm not sure if it tastes the same as what I feel. But this is a good coconut." The strange uncle said. "You're seeing it for the first time."

"No, no, no." Asimov shook his head stubbornly. "This kind of-" He imitated the other person's tone. "Obviously they are broken coconuts. Good coconuts should grow on coconut trees. And there are palm trees everywhere here - I don't know where suddenly there are so many palm trees. Coconut trees are very, very tall, It's several times—" He stretched out his hands and gestured. "—I guess you've never seen it."

The strange uncle smiled.

"I've seen it. Trust me."

Asimov scratched his head and dropped the coconut in his hand into the sand. Comparing the frivolous words of a stranger (or non-human) with the life experience he has gained in growing up, he certainly knows which one to believe.

But that strange uncle had a strange magic power that made him want to believe it.

"They should all be red," he muttered. The tone was much weaker than before. If you say it again I will believe it. He thought so.

"Not now." The strange uncle continued, "Because you are no longer a vampire."

"vampire……"

Asimov said the word naturally. He hadn't heard the word. You may have heard of it. It might be in Uncle Willy Shaw's secret story. However, he is more serious when listening to his reasoning, but he always loses focus when telling stories...

"Vampire...?" Half a second later, Asimov stopped. The strange uncle just turned around and looked at him with flaming eyes.

(Is it really just right? Uncle Willy Xiao said that many changes can be arranged, in order to...)

His head suddenly started to hurt violently and he couldn't think anymore. Tears welled up all at once. Inexplicable. Asimov grabbed his hair with both hands and shook his head. Useless. On the contrary, it feels like the eyes that have been regained have been blurred.

The strange uncle happened to walk up to him and tapped his forehead in the air. He hit it without touching the skin...

Just in time - or maybe not just in time - Asimov suddenly felt his headache go away.

"Oh!" He shook his head again. It really doesn't hurt anymore. The pain comes and goes without a trace. Like life, flakes of skin, or the song of a conch. Asimov wiped away his tears and thought for a moment. He wasn't sure what he was thinking - it was as if his brain was thinking but not telling him the results. "Uncle? What did you just say?"

"I said you're not a vampire anymore."

The uncle, who might not be human, turned around and walked away again. Said something that confused Asimov. Asimov was really confused - maybe his brain wasn't confused but didn't tell him...

"So you know me?" he asked after thinking about it. "Do I know you?" That's weird. Of course he didn't know him. This strange uncle saves him from being stranded. That's all their intersection. correct. And the butt. He reminded him to bring his butt that had been sliced ​​open in the stranding. That's all. Absolutely nothing is missing. He has a good memory and has always been confident in his perceptions...

The strange uncle did not answer this question.

"What do you think of the scenery here?" he asked slowly.

"Huh?" Asimov turned to look at the beach and then at the back of his strange uncle. "It's great! It's so beautiful! I'd dig my own sand hole here! But it doesn't suit you."

"Not worthy of me?"

"It's like..." The boy stretched out his hand and gestured. "You shouldn't be here..."

"Yeah?"

laughter.

The palm trees recede. They turned a corner. Asimov saw the palace - standard, stunning, beautiful, resplendent, exactly as he imagined.

He let out an excited cry and ran forward.

He must have run past the strange uncle. But in the blink of an eye, he was still a little ahead of him.

Asimov burst through the door and looked around.

"Are you the only one here?" he asked.