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I couldn't stop thinking.
That everything is ultimately, hopelessly meaningless.
A stranger with noticeable yellow eyes is getting beaten up by some people.
Charlotte looks worried.
It's so easy to dismiss concepts as overused,
but isn't it a wonderful feeling when you accomplish making a sincere story?
Umbrella Man: Might it be that your body has began to collapse under the pressure of the Oracle's corpse rotting inside of you?
Charlotte: When you put it in such a lighthearted tone, I'm almost not worried of what'll eventually happen to me.
You are sorrowful now that she's gone,
but you couldn't care less during her lifetime.