Chapter 1161: Benefactor, Come Quick—Memory Isn't Home |
Having retrieved the mirror from the Joker Gathering Place, Cheng Shi recalled what Dragon King had once said:
'Black Dragon King is free now.'
He still had no idea what the Black Dragon King inside the mirror actually was—something that could walk right out of its own reflection.
But upon reclaiming the mirror, Cheng Shi confirmed one thing: with the Black Dragon King's departure, That Dream My Nightmare truly could no longer reflect a person's innermost desires.
At this point, calling it a mirror was a stretch. It was more like a door—one leading both to Memory's Collection Hall and to the Dreamless Mirror.
Cheng Shi waved at it for a while. Seeing no mirror-image whatsoever, he pursed his lips in mild regret. This had been a perfectly good "anti-Doctor weapon." Now that it was gone, if the Doctor ever pulled his Eye No One stunt again, probably nobody would be able to spot him.
No time to waste. Cheng Shi touched the mirror's frame, silently recited the Memory prayer, and ascended once more to Memory's Collection Hall.
In the vast, empty hall, he bellowed without restraint:
"Great God of Memory, I come here boldly to propose a deal!"
"Would You be interested?"
His voice echoed. No response.
Cheng Shi blinked in surprise. He mustered his courage and shouted again—but after a long wait, the Collection Hall remained silent save for his own echo.
The master of this place seemed to have completely ignored the intruder's "insolence," leaving him to his own devices.
'What?!'
'What's going on?'
Cheng Shi was baffled.
'Last time I came, Memory was desperate to catch every liar who broke in. And now He just... doesn't care?'
'I figured "stranger the first time, friends the second" would apply to uninvited me, but Memory adapted this fast?'
'This forgiving...'
'Don't tell me You caught Fate's bug too?'
Utterly mystified, but unable to give up on that crucial vote, Cheng Shi wandered the halls, shouting as he went.
At this point he probably didn't even realize that to an outside observer, he looked exactly like The Prisoner had—equally insufferable.
But he wasn't the only one enduring this noise. Time was suffering too.
Because Memory wasn't in His Collection Hall.
Right now, those ancient eyes—saturated with the history of countless stars—were open at the very edge of the universe, gazing at the eyes before Him: irises where time itself collapsed into black holes.
Neither spoke.
After a long silence, Time finally couldn't take His follower's racket anymore. He sighed, cut the "live feed" from the Collection Hall, and asked with neither joy nor sorrow:
"Why have You come?"
Memory chuckled softly—and answered the question with a question:
"Does Existence have meaning?"
Time looked at His sibling god and shook His head with a gentle sigh: "If Existence itself has begun to doubt its own meaning, then Existence truly has no meaning."
"Is that why You draw close to Deceit?"
"No. I'm simply answering Your question."
"Deflecting."
Though Memory didn't understand many of Time's choices, He hadn't severed ties with His sibling the way the two Void gods had.
From the very beginning, even when He disagreed with Time, He'd never once blocked any of Time's decisions. Because He'd always believed that all forms of Existence carried meaning.
He was simply curious: why had a sibling who'd always been closer to Origin than Himself now turned to stand on Origin's opposing side?
The traces scattered across the universe had long made Him realize a cataclysm had once occurred—one that had been suppressed by some force.
The Void alone couldn't possess the power to reverse everything. At minimum, They couldn't overly influence Existence. So Memory's first suspicion fell on His sibling, Time.
That was also why He'd wanted to search for the erased universal memory through Cheng Shi—because the gazes of both the Void and Time converged on this Clown.
Of course, Memory wasn't solely interested in collecting that lost memory. More than anything, He wanted to know what these gods who sought to distance themselves from Origin were really planning.
So He asked again:
"Drawing close to Him... is that not good?"
Time was no Deceit. He wouldn't lie through His teeth. He averted His gaze toward whatever lay beyond the universe, and after an eternity spoke in a weary voice:
"How do you know which direction is 'close'?"
Memory was taken aback, then smiled: "As I thought—after getting close to Deceit, even Your speech sounds like His. You mean to say that what I've been doing is actually moving away, while what You've been doing is drawing closer?"
A rare flicker of confusion appeared in those black-hole eyes—there and gone in an instant, but Memory caught it.
"Perhaps. I don't know either."
Memory's brow furrowed. A bold conjecture suddenly formed in His mind. He looked at His sibling in astonishment:
"Who is trying to replace Him?"
"You? Or Deceit?"
"Or is it... Fate—the one who pretends to be at odds with Deceit?"
"Replace Origin?"
Time laughed bitterly. "Who could replace Him? Who would dare?"
"Even if someone must eventually take His place, it will never be any of the gods present."
"Deceit has His schemes, but His schemes are wrong."
"Fate is the one who's right. This universe... will ultimately return to the Void."
With those words, the time crystallized into a black hole in the void shattered and dispersed—as though all of time had been sucked into a singularity.
Memory stood frozen, chewing on His sibling's words for a long while before departing with furrowed brows.
He reappeared behind a certain noisy Clown.
No matter how sharp Cheng Shi's senses were, he couldn't possibly detect a true god's approach. By now, after several laps, equally hoarse and exhausted, he'd lost all patience. His shouts had devolved into something extremely blunt—and blasphemous.
He'd changed tactics, trying to provoke Memory into showing Himself. He was certain that given Memory's hunger for memories, He couldn't possibly ignore this deal.
If He'd just come out, Cheng Shi was confident he could secure the vote.
And so, in the empty Collection Hall, the following sound rang out:
"Memory! Come out and see me! I'm counting to three! If You don't show, I'm calling the Fun God!"
But before the echo faded, he shouted "THREE!" and then cackled ominously:
"Heh heh heh, You forced my hand!"
"Cannot distinguish true from false, never debate void from real."
"Benefactor! Memory's not home! Get over here, quick!"
Having reached a dead end, Cheng Shi turned around—
—and found himself face-to-face with his boss's face, inches away.
The boss's expression was cold, hovering between a smile and not:
"Keep counting. I'd like to see if He dares come."
"!!!!!"
Cheng Shi's brain went blank. His hand, hanging at his side, pinched his thigh with white-knuckle force. Only one thought screamed through his mind:
'Stupid leg—STOP SHAKING!'