Chapter 1162: Cheng Shi the Diplomat, Part Two |
"Uh... haha... You came to work in person?"
Cheng Shi no longer knew what he was saying. All he knew was that he needed to put some distance between himself and the boss standing before him.
He retreated two steps like a toddler learning to walk, then two more, and two more after that... until his back pressed against the endlessly stretching pure white wall of the Collection Hall. Leaning against it and fighting to keep himself from collapsing, he squeezed out the fakest smile imaginable and greeted:
"When did you get here?"
The boss's eyes rolled white for an instant, as if reviewing the Collection Hall's stored memories, before he spoke with absolute gravity:
"If you think you said something blasphemous that I shouldn't have heard, and you're hoping I didn't catch it, then let me assure you — I heard everything.
No matter when I come here, the memories within are laid bare before me.
Just as you said, this is my 'home.'"
"..."
'You're making me a little nervous here.'
Cheng Shi shrank back, let out a couple of dry laughs, and hurried to steer the conversation away from the topic of "blasphemy."
"Then you must have also heard why I came here. Do you agree to this deal?"
The boss surveyed Cheng Shi with cold, appraising eyes and scoffed:
"I don't yet know the terms of the deal. How could I possibly agree?
Besides, you're a mere mortal. What gives you the audacity to negotiate with me?"
The moment the conversation shifted to this kind of verbal sparring, Cheng Shi was in his element. His gaze turned resolute in an instant, and the words flowed effortlessly:
"Great deity, if I may — my audacity stems from your own relentless pursuit of that one."
"Insolent!"
Memory's brows shot up in fury, his eyes turning frigid:
"Do you know that reckless speculation about the Origin is a crime punishable by instant death?"
Boundless pressure surged from every direction, nearly pinning Cheng Shi into the corner of the Collection Hall. And yet, strangely, Cheng Shi wasn't as nervous anymore.
Perhaps he'd grown accustomed to being judged, or perhaps pressure bred courage. Either way, Cheng Shi shed his earlier panic entirely, the corners of his lips curling into a grin.
He looked straight into the boss's terrifying eyes and said cheerfully:
"Setting aside the fact that you haven't actually killed me on the spot — I merely mentioned 'that one.' How does that constitute reckless speculation about the Origin?
I'm a mere mortal, separated from Them by an insurmountable gulf. Just hearing Their exalted name fills me with dread. How could I dare speculate?
So I think the one whose mind was recklessly wandering toward Them... might actually be you, wouldn't it?"
"..."
Clearly, the standard divine intimidation no longer worked on Cheng Shi, who'd had frequent audiences with gods. Memory cast a cold glance at Cheng Shi, offered no comment on his retort, and didn't punish him for the "offense" either. After a long silence spent contemplating something, he spoke in a frigid tone:
"State your deal. You have one chance."
Cheng Shi's expression brightened, and he immediately laid out his plan to dethrone Oblivion. He candidly explained that under a mortal's machinations, the downfall of a deity would certainly make for an extraordinarily compelling memory — one worthy of being enshrined and even offered to that existence.
Beyond that, Cheng Shi also admitted the proposal was partly self-serving. Oblivion's "departure" would benefit his own safety, and once he was safe, he could continue searching for Memory's lost recollection.
Furthermore, he pledged to negotiate an agreement with the new Oblivion, specifically requesting that they reduce the frequency of memory annihilation upon assuming power, thereby preserving more memories for this world.
In short, casting this vote cost Memory nothing and promised enormous returns. There was no reason not to lend support.
Of course, this was all persuasion from Cheng Shi's own perspective. As for what Memory actually thought...
He contemplated for a long time, his gaze drifting toward the audacious mortal before him — as defiant and rebellious as his own Benefactor — and neither refused nor accepted.
"If I refuse and annihilate the knowledge of Oblivion's crisis right here, wouldn't I gain a Descent ally while personally crafting another spectacular memory?
In that case, how would it differ from agreeing to your terms?"
"???"
Cheng Shi's mind raced, and a response came to him within a heartbeat:
"Then you'd never be able to find the memories that interest you through me!
And if I may be so shameless — right now, I'm quite the 'hot commodity' in the eyes of both Void Benefactors. Kill me, and sure, you gain one Descent friend, but you'd instantly make two Void enemies!
That's not a good trade."
"Deceit has always opposed me, and Void has never walked alongside Existence. Since we were already enemies, where's the bad bargain?"
Cheng Shi panicked.
'This is bad. He wouldn't actually kill me, would he?'
Thinking fast, he countered with another argument:
"Who says Void has never walked alongside Existence?
Fate's fusion with Time is living proof that Void and Existence can travel the same road!
Your own follower Li Jingming walking the path of Deceit is evidence that you and Deceit can advance hand in hand!
All Existence has meaning, and if even opposing faiths can merge, then it proves this is the tide of the times.
Perhaps this is exactly what They desire from Their lofty vantage. If you wish to draw closer to Them, Void won't be a stumbling block — it'll be a stairway to the heavens.
Climb those steps, and who knows what vista awaits at the top?
Even if Void is ultimately meaningless, isn't meaninglessness itself a kind of meaning?
Just as nonexistence is a form of existence, perhaps Existence and Void were never meant to be so sharply divided.
Life birthed Descent, and Descent enriched Life;
Civilization spawned Chaos, and Chaos validated Civilization;
Now, Existence has extrapolated toward Void — but who can say that Void won't transform into Existence?
If you don't try walking in this direction, how will you know there aren't memories worth preserving ahead?"
The torrent of eloquence left Memory silent.
'Nonexistence is a form of existence?'
He regarded Cheng Shi with an inscrutable look, shed his icy demeanor, and smiled:
"Who taught you all of this?"
'Taught?'
'I made it all up on the spot!'
'If you were backed into a corner, you'd bullshit just as brilliantly!'
But the truth couldn't be spoken. Cheng Shi lowered his head slightly and replied with measured composure:
"After spending so long in the game, looking back, one can't help but gain some insights."
Memory raised an eyebrow and nodded:
"Memory is not Time. I cannot extrapolate — I can only record.
That is why Time rarely feels regret when calculating, while Memory sometimes hesitates when collecting.
Back when I saw through Fate's schemes, I should have been more forceful — pulled you directly into the Existence camp, rather than relying on some fusion with Time that turned Existence into a tool for your Void machinations.
Never mind. What's past is past. Even if I've always lived in the past, it's time I opened my eyes to the future.
Understood. You may leave."
With that, Memory waved his hand and departed. The pristine white Collection Hall shattered with a thunderous crash, hurling a thoroughly bewildered Cheng Shi out of the void.
Cheng Shi was genuinely dumbfounded.
'Wait — what?!'
'Another "understood"?!'
'Every last one of you — just an "understood"? What the hell does that even mean?'
'Is it so hard to let me "understand" something too?'
'At the very least, tell me whether you're casting your vote or not!'
'Is being a riddler really that fun?'
'Good grief, so this is what Fate's policy of embracing all faiths really means — infecting the entire universe with the riddler disease?'
'If that's the case, then I have no choice but to praise Fate once more.'
"What a magnificent piece of work!"