Chapter 426: Yu Jinsheng |
Beyond the Snow Mountain, the entire world was melting.
Men and women, young and old, were all sucked into sacrificial pits. Screams and wails rose to the heavens, and as their flesh dissolved, only translucent skeletons remained.
Birds and beasts claimed the humanless earth, lifting their heads to let out triumphant howls, then, without exception, began to converge on the Snow Mountain from every corner of the world.
Birds plummeted from the sky, schools of fish washed up on stone shores, and at the foot of the mountain, all animals prostrated themselves, piously worshipping the source of their existence.
Oh, Shangri-La, the land of eternal life, where the god who created them lay in eternal slumber. Adorn this long dream belonging to the divine; end this wretched fate in happiness and joy...
Just as a wounded child instinctively seeks its mother's embrace, just as a wanderer weathering storms in a foreign land dreams of home, so now did all humans and animals rush toward their primordial mother, their eternal home.
At an altitude of eight thousand meters, the Snow Mountain seemed to touch the sky. As the highest point on this land, it was imbued by stubborn herdsmen with legends of communing with the gods, and labeled by scientists as the result of tectonic plate compression.
In the past, it was a desolate place few dared to tread, a testament to the brave who challenged nature. Now, it had become the very center of the world—a key to restart time and space, an altar connecting to the highest laws of existence.
The summit was the place closest to god, or perhaps it was god itself. That deity had once selflessly bestowed life upon countless beings, and now, it would coldly and mercilessly reclaim it all.
All things must die, and the world itself was withering. Lush vegetation and vibrant, strange stones were fading. Man-made structures and natural landscapes, the ground and the sky—everything was shedding its magnificent shell.
A palette vaster than the sky and broader than the earth was suddenly overturned. A kaleidoscope of colors flowed across the world, converging into a vibrant, multicolored river that flowed backward toward the Snow Mountain, only to turn into a stark, clear white at its base.
The colorless landscapes and objects instantly became dilapidated wrecks. A gale swept down from the mountain, blasting across thousands of miles, grinding the remains of the scenery into dust.
A line of players trudged through the snow, battling the blizzard. Viewed from the heavens above, they were a string of tiny black dots squirming across the vast white expanse, like a column of marching ants.
Dong Xiwen and Zhang Yiyu brought up the rear of the group. Zhou Ke, clad in a thin white shirt with a Tibetan robe provided by the guide thrown over it, walked in the middle of the line.
Lin Jue and Fu Jue were at the head of the column, one behind the other, leading the way. In the distance, a forest of glaciers slowly emerged on the horizon.
Suddenly, Lin Jue pulled a rusted bronze pocket watch from his coat, glanced down at it, and stopped without warning. The entire line of people behind him halted as well.
"Ninety hours have passed," he announced. "At this point, I have to tell you about the worst-case scenario: I'm afraid we might never get out of here."
Lin Jue turned, his gaze sweeping over the others. His voice was calm. "We are not in the real world. We are in a long dream of endless night and eternal slumber—the very dream of a god mentioned in the legends."
"A dream has no boundaries. If we want to leave, we have to wake the dreaming god. But our very existence is based on that god's dream... I wonder, have any of you heard of the Dream of Brahma?"
His voice was clear, and though the blizzard muffled it slightly, everyone could still hear him distinctly.
The guide, Zha Xi, stood beside them, as still as a mountain, seemingly unfazed by his words. A simple, honest smile was fixed on his ruddy face, unchanging, like that of a mannequin.
Cradling her diary, Chu Yining murmured, "In ancient Indian legend, time is considered a dream of the creator god, Brahma. In this dream, the universe, life, and all of existence are temporary phenomena. Once Brahma awakens, everything in the mortal world, including time and space, will vanish along with it."
After ascending the Snow Mountain, her regression "back into a child" had slowed, and for now, she could still analyze the situation calmly. "The legends of the mother goddess in Shangri-La have similarities to the Dream of Brahma. Eternal life itself is something that can only exist in a dream. With people from so many different worldlines gathered here, this world already lacks a sense of reality..."
"Old Lin, Sister Chu, nothing's set in stone yet. Why say such discouraging things and demoralize everyone?" Xiao Fengchao, one hand on Chu Yining's wheelchair, reached for the pocket watch in Lin Jue's hand with the other. He examined it from all angles. "Think positive. Maybe the watch is broken. Maybe we've been teleported to the South Pole and it's just the polar night..."
Lin Jue shook his head. "Fengchao, you said it yourself before. You calculated that all of our fate lines end here."
"Huh? Haha..." Xiao Fengchao gave a dry laugh. "Just a kid talking nonsense. I was just rambling, don't take it seriously. I still want to get back alive and pick up girls, you know? Don't you go giving up on life just yet..."
Lin Jue ignored his rambling and continued, "We know that one of the core elements of this instance is 'mirrors.' The fact that we're moving in the opposite direction of our intended path means we are reflections in a mirror, phantoms in a dream. I'm sure you've all sensed it too—the real images are someone else. *They* are the real players."
"I apologize. For my own selfish reasons, I withheld a crucial piece of information. Four days ago, I left the group on my own. In a mirror-like surface formed by the ice, I saw myself from another worldline—from a future after the Final Instance. He told me that in this timeline, we are already dead."
The moment Lin Jue had adopted his open and honest demeanor, Dong Xiwen had already moved closer with Zhang Yiyu to listen intently.
He couldn't help but say to Dong Ziwen in his mind, "Brother, you're not busy anyway, why don't you sort out the logic here? Judging from the future, Lin Jue really does die in this instance, but your boss survived, didn't he?"
"Lin Jue is fearmongering," Dong Ziwen concluded. "Of course, it's also possible that different worldlines have branched off into different sub-plots." Then, as if he'd thought of something, he asked, "Brother, who is the Lin Jue from the other worldline?"
"You mean... Lin Jue was replaced by someone else in this instance?" Dong Xiwen frowned slightly.
That's right. In the year 2035, every player believed that Lin Jue had died on January 1, 2014, during the Twilight of the Gods.
Yet he claimed to have seen a version of himself from another worldline, one who could tell him about the future. Who exactly was that "him"?
Xiao Fengchao stared at Lin Jue, his expression serious. "Old Lin, knowing you, if you're telling us all this, it means you have a solution, right? Don't keep us in suspense. Spit it out!"
Lin Jue smiled, his gaze shifting to Zhou Ke, who was standing limply in the corner. "The way to clear this instance has always been there. As long as I am killed, everyone else can survive."
The players' expressions flickered with a mix of emotions at his words, but Lin Jue continued, "Before that, however, there are a few things I'd like to discuss with Fu Jue."
...
Elsewhere, it was the same night, the same blizzard that consumed heaven and earth.
The thick stench of blood hung in the air, so condensed by the cold that it seemed to pour straight into one's nostrils, sharp and startling as a blade.
Yu Jinsheng, dressed in a red Tang suit under a sheepskin coat, walked alone through the snow, following the scent of blood. He was a man who already knew the ending. He knew that Lin Jue's group from twenty-two years ago had all perished, and that Xiao Fengchao from eleven years ago had not escaped his fate either. Though a flicker of life might remain, he was trapped in the Babylon Tower, mad and raving—a state no different from death in the eyes of the world.
He couldn't help but wonder: if he knew the endings of others, did someone out there know his? In the eyes of those from the future, was his fate already written? But then again... did this world even have a future?
One by one, vibrant people full of hope rushed toward their deaths, unable to find even a glimmer of a chance to survive despite fighting with all their might. How could such a thing not fill one's heart with sorrow?
Yu Jinsheng had never truly met Xiao Fengchao. At most, they had exchanged a few words from a distance, separated by a thick wall or a heavy iron door.
Most of the time, Xiao Fengchao's words were incomprehensible nonsense. Only occasionally would he have a moment of clarity and speak of the past, or of prophecies for the future—prophecies that were invariably terrible and horrifying, befitting his title of "Doomsday Prophet."
Yu Jinsheng had entered the Weird Game late. By the time he became an official player and accumulated some capital, Xiao Fengchao had already been missing for years.
But his luck was good. He always managed to find someone to save him just at the brink of death, allowing him to survive. Then, in one instance, he obtained the Taboo Scholar identity card, and with it, he established a connection with the imprisoned Xiao Fengchao in the Babylon Tower.
He knew his own limitations. He saw himself as nothing more than an insignificant nobody, a pitiful soul unluckily dragged into the vortex, clutching at any straw to survive. He had no ambition to become a god by stepping on the corpses of his comrades, nor any ideals of saving the world. He just wanted to live a long, peaceful life.
But at Xiao Fengchao's request, he joined the Listening Wind Guild, worked his way up to the position of vice president, and made contact with Fu Jue.
Fortunately, Yu Jinsheng's abilities were far from as poor as he believed.
In just a few short years, his reputation soared. He grew capable enough to stand on his own, skillfully navigating between the various factions. While Xiao Fengchao's support from the shadows was certainly a factor, most of the credit belonged to him alone.
He wanted to live. Since there was no way to retreat, his only choice was to meticulously calculate everything and fight for a place for himself in the raging torrent.
For a long time, however, he resisted binding to an identity card. Relaying messages for Xiao Fengchao and assisting Fu Jue was enough. If the sky were to fall, the tall ones would be there to hold it up. Why should he wade into the murky waters of the Final Instance?
He successfully passed the Taboo Scholar card to Asakura Yuko before the revelation stele appeared, severing all ties. But he never expected that, at some point, he had become one of the "tall ones" himself.
Asakura Yuko died. Fu Jue said that the more identity cards missing from the Final Instance, the greater the disadvantage for the players. Someone had to fill the vacancy immediately, and as the vice president and acting president of the Listening Wind Guild, Yu Jinsheng was the most suitable candidate.
No one asked if he was willing; they all assumed he would take Asakura Yuko's place. And really, what could he do even if he refused? In the face of the bigger picture, anyone could be sacrificed, including him.
He rounded a glacier and took a few more steps forward, and his view suddenly opened up.
Tens of thousands of grayish-black shadows formed a long column, marching majestically in one direction, tracing a black border along the ridgeline.
The ferocious-looking ghosts had suppressed all their malice. They shuffled forward like sleepwalkers with their heads bowed, their steps light and staggering. At the head of the procession, a pale, ghostly figure held a scepter, guiding their way.
The ghostly figure had a young face, pale and weak. It was Lin Chen.
Yu Jinsheng had never actually met Lin Chen, just as he had never truly met Xiao Fengchao. He only knew of him through intelligence reports:
During his rookie days, he had been matched with Qi Si and Chang Xu in the Rose Manor instance. After becoming an official player, he helped a number of people and wrote several guides. His reputation was good, but one day he suddenly vanished without a trace, only for his name to reappear on the revelation stele.
For such a person to appear here wasn't strange, but it was certainly unexpected. Yu Jinsheng narrowed his eyes, studying Lin Chen. The latter's expression was completely vacant, his dilated pupils unfocused. He was clearly not alive, yet he also lacked any desire to attack the living.
Yu Jinsheng couldn't tell what had happened to him. The situation was too bizarre. He didn't even know if Lin Chen had died from a danger within the instance or from the mechanics of his identity card.
But regardless, for an identity card holder to be eliminated so unceremoniously, and to be turned into this half-dead, half-ghostly state... it still sent a shiver of empathetic horror through him.
What on earth had happened? Should he keep going? What was he supposed to do?
The procession of ghosts slowly passed the glacier. Lin Chen brushed past Yu Jinsheng, his eyes reflecting nothing of the man standing before him.
Yu Jinsheng watched the strange, long column, his eyes following the grayish-black shadows as they marched deeper into the Snow Mountain, until they were completely swallowed by the blizzard and vanished from sight.
The stench of blood grew even thicker. Yu Jinsheng belatedly recalled that among the procession that had just passed, many of the ghosts had bits of flesh and droplets of blood clinging to their cheeks, frozen by the frigid wind into pale pink icicles.
They had just been through a fierce battle, or perhaps a feast. Who was on the other side? Who was the sacrificial offering they had devoured?
A chill crept into Yu Jinsheng's heart. He was afraid of finding another body, but he was also afraid of finding nothing at all.
He pressed on. Before him stretched a boundless lake of blood. Golden-red streams surged through the crevices of the ice and snow, as if a god at the dawn of creation had turned its own flesh and blood into rivers and seas.
At the confluence of the blood lay a crimson figure. It was impossible to tell if the clothes had always been that color, or if they had been stained red by blood. He was motionless, covered in a thick layer of frost, like a statue that had been dead for a long time, destined to remain in this land forever.
Yu Jinsheng walked over, step by step, and adjusted his round-framed glasses.
Through the blizzard that blurred the world into a wash of gray, he finally saw the man's face clearly. It was Qi Si!
Then his eyes fell upon the young man's wounds. His long red suit was torn to shreds, and his exposed skin was covered in sharp teeth marks. His flesh had been bitten away, leaving a pockmarked mess, with some wounds so deep the bone and sinew were visible.
The scenes he had witnessed clicked into place. In an instant, Yu Jinsheng deduced the entire sequence of events: Qi Si had been swarmed and attacked by the ghosts, and on the verge of death, Lin Chen had used some method to lead them away.
Just as he thought... Lin Chen really was connected to Qi Si. He was most likely Lin Wuya himself... His earlier suspicions were confirmed, but what did it matter now? The person in question was as good as dead, no longer able to influence or interfere with this game.
Yu Jinsheng moved closer and knelt before Qi Si.
Qi Si's eyes were half-closed. As if disturbed by the footsteps, he managed to open them a little wider. His crimson irises turned sluggishly, his gaze finally landing on the newcomer.
He stared blankly for two seconds, then suddenly broke into a smile. "Oh, it's you... For the sake of me carrying you all that way before, do me a favor and carry me for a bit. Just get me to that glacier over there..."
"You'd better hurry. I'm about to die."