Chapter 434: The Gods |
“Lin Jue, to be honest, this outcome was beyond my predictions. Both the Ancestral God and I believed you would be the one to win this game in the end.”
On a ridgeline near the summit of the Snow Mountain, the pale sky and silvery glaciers blended into a seamless vista, making it increasingly difficult to distinguish where the heavens ended and the earth began. Lu Li sat across from Fu Jue, clad only in a thin, long trench coat. The brown hem whipped about in the frigid wind, yet he showed no sign of the cold, his face fixed in a peaceful, serene smile.
Fu Jue—or rather, Lin Jue—sat with his knees drawn up, his face tilted slightly upward. Behind his glasses, his silver-white eyes reflected Lu Li’s image. “Are you speaking to me as yourself,” he inquired, “or as the Ancestral God?”
“You already know the answer, so why bother asking?” Lu Li offered a faint smile. “A human lifetime of memories is insignificant against the eons of a god’s existence. A single glimpse of the knowledge and visions they possess, poured into a fragile mortal soul, is an unbearable weight. From the moment you abandoned me in the *Hopeless Sea*, I became the Sea God's vessel.”
“It wasn't what I wanted. As I soaked in the seawater, invisible tentacles filling every pore and orifice, I exhausted every method I knew to resist the divine contamination, trying to wrestle control of my body from the Sea God's will. But I failed. Looking back, however, this outcome isn't so bad. At least I'm no longer a pawn to be sacrificed at a moment's notice.”
The gentle, sincere, and earnest smile never left the young man's face, as if he were recounting some heartwarming story. Yet behind his gold-rimmed glasses, his eyes were hollow and vacant—seemingly incapable of reflecting anything, yet vast enough to contain the entire Snow Mountain.
Lin Jue listened patiently, falling into a rare silence.
Lu Li’s contamination by the Sea God had been a calculated part of Lin Jue’s plan. To gain more leverage in the gods' gamble, the Weird Investigation Bureau needed complete control over a god-level entity. Thus, the Sea God was lured into Lu Li's body, and both were sealed away in a containment chamber.
And this strategic move had indeed greatly facilitated the subsequent actions of the Weird Investigation Bureau and the Sila Guild. Leaving aside the secrets and knowledge etched into the god's memory, the divine blood alone was invaluable. Mass-produced weapons, steeped in that blood, became items that could be brought into the game.
Gods cannot be killed, but fellow gods can devour each other. By placing Lu Li near Qi Si in the Snow Mountain instance, Lin Jue had intended to use this as leverage. Qi Si, presumably, had the same idea, planning to use the authority of his Soul Contract to control Lu Li and hold him as a trump card against other divine entities.
But neither of them had considered that Lu Li himself could become a variable, just as a chess master rarely considers the feelings of the pieces on the board. When the Weird Game shut down, all game-derived abilities vanished along with it—including the Soul Contract and the Puppet Threads. Now, Lu Li was unquestionably beyond anyone's control.
Even if Qi Si had anticipated this, he likely wouldn't have cared. For him, as long as things were interesting, even death itself could be a delightful surprise.
Lin Jue, on the other hand, had genuinely failed to account for this. When one sits in the seat of power for too long, it is easy to take everything for granted. Stripped of his emotions, he was no longer the man he once was, and it was inherently difficult for him to factor such things into his calculations.
Of course, the Lin Jue of the past would never have built his plans upon the sacrifice of others.
Lu Li continued, “What I just said... those were the lingering emotions of the human named ‘Lu Li.’ From this point forward, I will not speak of him again.”
He paused before seamlessly shifting the topic. “You have contended with Qi for thirty-six years, so you should understand the reason for the gods' existence and their significance. I won't elaborate further. You should also be aware of the Ancestral God's objective, but as She specifically instructed me, I must review it with you.”
“If we consider the Rules as a massive computer, then the gods are its automated repair programs, responsible for clearing out trash, eliminating viruses, and patching bugs. Most of the time, simple adjustments are enough to keep the system running. But now, the Rules are on the brink of collapse, beyond repair by surface-level programs. And so, the Ancestral God, the core program, has emerged according to a preset protocol. She is about to format the failing system.”
“Lin Jue, with your intellect, you should be able to understand all this.”
“Succinct and easy to grasp,” Lin Jue remarked.
“And what I'm here to say is—” Lu Li slowed his speech, his face settling into a programmed smile, “—the one who performs the format doesn't have to be the Ancestral God. It could even be a human. And whoever that person is, they will survive to see the day the new world is built.”
“What's more, they will be able to establish the rules of the new world according to their own desires. A world of perfect order or one of absolute chaos—the fundamental Rules won't care, nor will they interfere, as long as the new system is logically consistent and can stably process sin.”
“And for this very reason, both the Ancestral God and I would rather you win this game than White Crow. You and I both know it is far better for a rationalist to be in control than to let a madman squander such hard-won authority.” He stopped there, watching Lin Jue with an unmoving smile, waiting for his response.
“I see.” Lin Jue gave a slight nod, his gaze meeting Lu Li's as he spoke, his words measured. “The game has ended, yet the world has not been rebooted. You have not returned to the Ancestral God's side. Instead, you've come to incite me against White Crow. From this, I deduce that the negotiations between the Ancestral God and White Crow were unsuccessful, and that White Crow has employed some rule-level stratagem to temporarily neutralize Her.”
Lu Li admitted it freely. “That much is obvious. I had no intention of hiding it from you. Before the world reboots, the seat of the Ancestral God is still up for grabs. All you need to do is place more chips on the scales than White Crow, and that divinity will be yours.”
“However, given the hostility you've previously shown toward the Ancestral God, She will require a contract to ensure you do not act against Her expectations.”
The rule-maker itself was stepping onto the field, offering a guaranteed path to victory to one of the contestants vying for the final prize. The Weird Game had never been fair. The very essence of its rules was to break them.
Lu Li's proposal offered everything to gain and nothing to lose. By simply agreeing to cooperate, Lin Jue could survive to the end without risk, no longer needing to exhaust every scheme and stratagem just for a sliver of hope.
Refuse, on the other hand, and it was doubtful he would even leave the Snow Mountain alive.
“I won't do it.” Lin Jue rose to his feet and started walking away from the summit.
He spoke like a renowned scholar at a lectern, presenting a proven thesis, his tone as placid as still water. “I do not believe this world is so beyond saving that it needs to be rebooted. Nor do I believe that humanity's destiny should be controlled by the will of gods. Humans will choose their own path, without needing a destruction forced upon them by some external power. Therefore, I refuse to cooperate with you.”
“I cannot comprehend your reason for refusal.” Lu Li got up and followed, shaking his head gently. “You have already been elevated far above the rest of humanity. You possess power and standing on par with the gods. You can no longer share the sentiments of those ants who do nothing but burden the Rules.”
“For the last twenty-two years, you have grown accustomed to the role of a dictator, single-handedly defining a new order and shepherding the foolish mortals. Though you were not a true god, they worshipped you as one. They willingly submitted to your rule and restraint, and they savored it.”
“You are the most suitable candidate to forge a new world. Why won't you do it?”
“Because I am human.” A golden-red light suddenly bled from between Lin Jue's fingers. The metallic scent of blood diffused through the frigid air with an unnatural slowness, and only then did Lu Li sense that something was wrong.
A golden, four-sided die materialized within the crimson-gold blood, and translucent puppet threads, refracting a pale pink light, became visible, linking Lin Jue to Lu Li.
Items stained with divine blood had the power to cross the boundary between the Weird Game and reality. Even with the game shut down, they could still be used in the real world.
Only then did Lu Li realize what Lin Jue had been doing all this time, and his expression faltered.
The Puppet Master who controlled his strings had, at some unknown point, secretly stored away a portion of divine blood. And now, he was unexpectedly deploying these seemingly casual preparations to channel the power of the Weird Game in the real world.
Lin Jue's fingers tugged at the delicate threads, his voice utterly placid. “I can sacrifice myself to ensure the world survives. I can sacrifice the few to save the many. But I will never, ever trade the lives of all humanity for my own pitiful existence in a new world without them. That has always been my choice. It will never change.”
Lu Li stared at him, as if seeing this man for the very first time. And yet, it also felt as if a question that had lingered for years had finally been answered, bringing with it a sudden, profound understanding.
After a long silence, a bitter smile touched the young man's lips. “That isn't rational.”
Lin Jue looked up at the blizzard obscuring the path down the mountain and corrected him, enunciating every syllable with precision. “It is the most rational decision *for me*. It is consistent with the principles of pragmatism.”