This kind of feverish, confusing mess that makes partial sense is what happens in my head all the time. Haven't seen anything or anyone capture the way my mind works better, reading this felt as nauseating as trying to write my thoughts on paper and realizing that they never followed any rational, logical pattern or made enough sense to write down in the first place. I don't know whether it's the author that suffers like me or the translator, but I'm guessing both. It was a fever dream flavored hell just like existence is. Hated it, thank you
He was forced to choose between love and justice, but it turned out that the justice he's been following wasn't actually just or fair, so he just decided to be with her since the initial choice doesn't matter anymore, neat