Chapter 20: Winner Takes All, Loser Turns to Dust |
After deleting all the records and restoring the room to exactly how it was before he entered, Ming Po stood back up.
The next moment, deep red flames ignited across the surrounding world.
He ended his modification of the history from "one hour ago."
The world around him twisted and swelled, snapping back to normal in the blink of an eye.
He was still standing by the road, only this time, there was no sign of Ai Shiping.
Similarly, he saw no sign of that otherworldly Void Truck.
With no one killed, there was naturally no crowd. Ming Po shoved his hands into his pockets in silence and walked home.
'Who could have killed Ai Shiping?'
Ming Po pondered.
The sudden appearance and disappearance of that Void Truck were too bizarre to be the work of a newcomer... moreover, when history was painted over, there was a smear of gold that only he could see.
Was that Day's False Gold? Or... was it a higher-tier "True Gold"?
"I really hope... I can run into them again."
Ming Po murmured, narrowing his eyes.
He was in no mood to check on his neighbor's child for the time being.
As for the friend Ai Shiping had recommended to him, he had no time to chat with them either—
He truly had no time left. These matters would probably have to wait until he had spare chips.
Ming Po had barely taken a few steps before flames ignited across the world around him once more.
The colorful world had its hues burned away by the fire, reverting to a dark and tranquil grayscale.
—His Manifestation time had ended.
But it was just about enough.
What needed to be confirmed was confirmed, and what needed to be changed had been changed...
Like performing a magic trick, Ming Po pulled out his last remaining chip.
A dark gold [Day's False Gold].
He tossed it into the air and caught it casually. He repeated this a few times before snatching it firmly in his grip.
He headed straight home.
The good mood he originally had upon returning home was now completely gone.
Ming Po walked through the bright living room and went to his room to check everything over. The familiar "Ouroboros" poster was still plastered on his bedroom wall, and his figurines were still in the cabinet.
But when he entered Ai Shiping's room again, he found the guy playing a game he was completely unfamiliar with and had never seen before.
Ming Po just stood behind him and watched for a while before suddenly reaching out to pat his shoulder.
His hand phased right through the shoulder.
"Holy crap, I think someone's behind me!"
The unfilial son didn't even turn his head, merely shouting into the voice channel, "Quick, quick, quick, get on the bridge! Get on the bridge!"
He watched Ai Shiping set up a sniper rifle, acting just like a child.
Although Ming Po couldn't understand the game, the guy seemed to be having a lot of fun.
That was good enough.
Ming Po sighed silently and floated back to the living room.
This living room was entirely different from the "living world" grayscale of Ai Shiping's room; it shimmered with a bright and warm light. Yet that sense of alienation only made Ming Po feel an unprecedented loneliness all the more intensely.
Suddenly... he wanted a drink.
Since he was no longer among the living anyway, alcohol allergies shouldn't be an issue anymore.
"I wonder if a ghost can drink."
Ming Po smiled self-deprecatingly, taking out the bottle bearing his Title from the wine cabinet, along with a chilled glass.
He didn't prepare any ice cubes, directly pouring out a small half-glass of liquor as a test.
He carefully leaned in to sniff it, then took a light sip. Instantly, he felt a strong, spicy sensation mixed with the scent of smoke and wood.
"Cough, cough..."
Ming Po shuddered all over, coughing in a rare moment of distress.
And at that moment, information surfaced in his consciousness—
[Title Switched]
[Currently Equipped: Werewolf (Slaughter - Bronze)]
[Werewolf equip effect has taken effect]
The next moment, a warm current surged from his abdomen through all his limbs and bones.
The faint fatigue from his outing vanished in the blink of an eye. His heart pumped more vigorously, and his spirits noticeably improved. A restless surge of abundant stamina made him want to uncontrollably sway his body, just as if he had downed four or five cups of strong espresso in a single day.
—So this is how Titles are used?
Ming Po hurriedly twisted the bottle cap back on.
Thank goodness it was a twist-off cap and not a cork, otherwise Ming Po wouldn't have known how to shove it back in.
He let out a sigh.
To be honest, he had originally planned to get some sleep. He wanted to see if he could actually fall asleep. He also wanted to wait a few more days to see what would happen when that countdown neared its end.
But now, he felt a bit restless.
Just equipping this Title made Ming Po feel a destructive desire brewing from the bottom of his heart.
His emotions gradually surged and became impassioned, an excellent wash for his lonely listlessness. His teeth itched, feeling as if they had grown sharper. His nails seemed to have hardened, and the strength in his fingers was overwhelmingly full, making him really want to... forcefully crush something.
He wanted to run, to sprint freely. Ming Po felt that he might be able to learn parkour, or perhaps he could take advantage of the fact that no one could see him to go on a wild sprint across the rooftops, casually testing whether a ghost could fall to its death while he was at it—
But reason told Ming Po that his actual physical constitution probably hadn't been enhanced. This might just be a hallucination caused by an overabundance of stamina.
It was just a pity that the other "Gold" tier bottle of wine had shattered, so he couldn't pour it out anymore, nor did he know its specific effects. And Ming Po had no idea how to unequip the Title... if he had to endure these boring seven days in this hyperactive state, it would be far too dull.
"No time like the present... Let's do it now."
Ming Po was eager to give it a try.
He cracked the joint of his right index finger, producing a crisp snap.
He passed by the shattered mirror, only to see a trace of dim yellow igniting in the depths of his pupils.
It was a very faint glow, like a bedside nightlight turned to its lowest brightness. In fact, if one stood a bit further away, they probably wouldn't even notice the slight color change in his pupils.
He was very certain that his eyes hadn't looked like this before he drank the liquor.
Is this... the power of the Title, or rather, the "Domain"?
Ming Po still remembered that Ink had mentioned the names Domain of Virtue and Domain of Balance.
—Domain of Slaughter, sounds pretty good.
Those three Promotion conditions... also didn't seem too difficult.
"I was originally wondering if I had committed too much slaughter..."
Ming Po murmured, walking toward the main door. "But looking at it now, I still haven't killed enough."
He truly understood just how far the "reckless abandon" of Deceivers of the World could go.
Just how powerful, how dangerous... how twisted the power of Time Chips was.
If everyone could change time, that meant nothing was real.
Memories one thought were eternal could easily be erased by others, without one even knowing what they had lost; a deeply missed beloved could be killed before you even fell in love with them, altering that bond of fate entirely.
Hope and love... were so fragile under the power of [Time].
However, Ming Po thought of a crazy idea that might just solve all these dilemmas.
—For example, killing all the Deceivers of the World.
Exactly...
Gather all the chips, kill all Deceivers of the World!
Let this historical modification privilege of "unanimous approval" be owned by only one person.
That way, the timeline would be stabilized.
Or rather... this was the only path there ever was to begin with!
Ming Po suddenly had an epiphany.
The Host had said that the modifications of Time Chips could not directly take effect on Deceivers of the World. That was to say, Deceivers of the World had directly jumped out of the cycle of reincarnation, existing independently of the timeline. All modifications involving Deceivers of the World had to wait until the next playthrough to take effect uniformly.
Therefore, the historical modifications made by the two people from the last game took effect simultaneously.
Since that was the case, why did Ink say that one must hide their face and identity?
Combining this with Ai Shiping's experience of being killed, Ming Po finally understood it all—
Before Deceivers of the World became Deceivers, they were still ordinary mortals.
If one could return to the past and kill them beforehand, perhaps they wouldn't become Deceivers of the World.
Or return to the time right before their death and save them... because they didn't die, they wouldn't become Deceivers of the World either.
Regardless of whether such modifications took effect in this playthrough or the next... as long as they could not become Deceivers of the World, then their existence as Deceivers might directly vanish due to a Paradox!
Bypassing the option of "defeating the opponent in the game," one could directly kill the opponent in reality.
—Therefore, this was a game where exposing your identity equated to direct elimination.
He recalled Ink's initially frantic and mocking words—
[Our game has a tolerant and merciful rule—after surviving any game, you can leave!]
You indeed could leave at any time, but that tiny amount of chips was completely insufficient... It might not even be enough to modify the history you needed, let alone counter the historical modifications made by others.
[You can insert this precious one hour into your own past, modifying what you did during that hour, thereby achieving a miraculous resurrection!]
You indeed could resurrect, but once resurrected, it meant modifying the history of you becoming a Deceiver of the World, thus losing the identity of a Deceiver... and subsequently becoming unable to return to the game.
[With these Time Chips, you can change your destiny however you wish!]
You indeed could change your destiny...
However, others could change it right back.
Although this game theoretically only required participating once, and although history theoretically only needed to be modified once...
—Yet, there were simply too many people wielding this supreme authority.
For example, a relative someone revived after modifying history might become a dead person again because someone else modified history once more; a company saved after modifying history might become even more miserable because of the history modified by someone else.
Ink's words were all correct.
However, they weren't entirely right.
Hidden within was a self-deprecating mockery, along with an aloof pity.
Because once you entered the Game of Deception, it meant seeing the truth of the world. From then on, you were no longer an ordinary person blind to the flow of the timeline. Even your cognition wouldn't change with the changes in the world, forever losing the chance to just drift with the current.
Which also meant...
...if you didn't kill all the other Deceivers of the World, you were doomed to never have peace.
Everything you possessed would be easily destroyed by other Deceivers of the World.
Ming Po walked up to the main door and tossed his final chip into the slot labeled [Promotion].
With a clinking sound, a black and red rose pattern spread across the door like blooming rust.
Immediately after, a sun crest emerged right in the center of the door. It was identical to the symbol on Day's False Gold.
Ming Po opened the door and stepped inside.
—This was not a game for people to make up for their regrets.
This was a game where only one person could become the final victor.
Rather, it was a game of "choosing a god."
Winner takes all.
...Loser turns to dust.
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