Chapter 439: The Gods |
Si Qi had no intention of dying. While a spectacular death might offer a certain thrill, it was, after all, a one-time affair. The thought of dying prematurely and missing out on the grand spectacle before and after the apocalypse—not to mention losing his privilege to inflict continuous disaster and death upon the world—was enough to make him immediately discard any notion of self-destruction.
Furthermore, considering his death would clear numerous obstacles for the Weird Investigation Bureau, the Balance Church, and countless other factions, large and small—allowing the craven to cling to their pathetic lives a while longer and letting the ambitious powers vie for godhood with fewer losses—Si Qi was overcome with a wave of nausea. All in all, it seemed far better to live a little longer and continue to be a thorn in the world's side.
Naturally, the words he had spoken to Lin Jue over the phone meant nothing. Only a fool would lay all their cards on the table for an enemy. Besides, given his consistently unpredictable behavior, Lin Jue would likely be unable to discern truth from fiction for some time. The conversation was, in effect, no better than nonsense.
Si Qi hung up the phone. Yu Jinsheng, who had been listening to the entire conversation, chose this moment to speak. "Old Qi," he began, "as a friend, I really must advise you against returning to Jiang City. Things being as they are, I have no choice but to be frank. The Doomsday Prophet once made a prediction that ‘the gate will open in Jiang City,’ so the Weird Investigation Bureau has set up an elaborate net for you in that area."
"They used to think you would become the vessel for an evil god's invasion of the real world. To ensure they could respond immediately, they demanded that I keep you confined to Jiang City. You already know this; I spent that entire time dropping subtle hints that danger awaited you outside the city."
"Now I'm in your hands. And knowing you as I do, if you were ever cornered and on the brink of death, you wouldn't hesitate to kill me just to have some company. It's shameful, I know, but I have to admit—I've always been a coward. So you can trust that whatever our past relationship, our interests are now perfectly aligned."
For the past six years, as Qi Si's friend, "Jin Yusheng" had always played the part of a simple, carefree soul. But to have navigated the gray areas of their world for so long, to have not only survived but thrived, and to have always been there to clean up Qi Si's messes at just the right moment—how could he possibly be useless? It was simply that the Qi Si of the past had chosen to turn a blind eye.
Now Si Qi had torn away the last shred of pretense between them, and "Jin Yusheng" had reverted to "Yu Jinsheng." As the acting president of the Listening Wind Guild, a major player caught in the eye of the storm, he maintained a calm and composed demeanor despite being under Si Qi's control. He analyzed the situation with clear logic, offering advice that was plausible on the surface.
Si Qi sat behind the counter, propping his chin on his hand with an air of utter composure, his eyes fixed on Yu Jinsheng with an unreadable, half-formed smile.
After a long moment, Yu Jinsheng gave a wry smile. "Alright, I'll give you another dose of truth. Lin Jue will never let you get back to Jiang City in one piece. It's a long way, with far too many opportunities for... arrangements. A missing part in the car, a sudden crack in the road—you could die an unexplained death along the way, and there would be nowhere to turn for justice."
Si Qi listened intently, then gave a solemn nod, as if taking the warning to heart. He picked up the phone again and dialed a number. Once the call connected, he said, "Lin Jue, I have one more condition. I want all vehicles and supplies for our journey to be provided by the Listening Wind Guild."
Yu Jinsheng: "...A fine idea."
The agents from the Weird Investigation Bureau might not give a damn about a hostage's life, but the members of the Listening Wind Guild would never abandon their acting president.
Originally, Si Qi had only contacted Lin Jue, which meant the Bureau could have suppressed the information and made a move against Si Qi and Yu Jinsheng in secret. Now, however, they would be forced to notify the Listening Wind Guild. And with them involved, even if the Bureau tried to pull something, the guild would create significant resistance.
Yu Jinsheng now understood the depth of Si Qi's resolve to return to Jiang City. From what he knew of Si Qi—and Qi Si, for that matter—the man had never been one for strong, persistent desires. He usually acted on a whim, with an almost profound laziness. To suddenly display such a clear sense of purpose could not be as simple as homesickness or a death wish.
He opened his mouth, then hesitated before asking, "Old Qi, for old times' sake, give me a straight answer. Why are you so set on returning to Jiang City?"
Yu Jinsheng's tone was sincere, as if, after all their years as friends, all he wanted was to understand.
For once, Si Qi's smile vanished. He stared at Yu Jinsheng's face, unblinking, as if evaluating just how deep their friendship truly ran.
After a long moment, he sighed. "Do you really want to know?"
Yu Jinsheng held his breath, his ears pricked, his expression turning solemn.
Then he watched as the young man's lips curled into a smile, his eyes crinkling with amusement, as he delivered the tired, old line: "Why don't you guess?"
...
Si Qi had his reasons for returning to Jiang City, and they were compelling.
The moment he glimpsed Bai Ma's mirror, he felt as if he had been plunged into a waking dream. For a fleeting second, he forgot who he was, staring blankly at a series of figures of different ages and with different faces.
A child, not yet six, sat expressionless in a dim corner, casually crushing ants one by one. A figure dressed in a red suit and trousers watched listlessly, seemingly accustomed to the act, yet tinged with a sense of weary resignation.
A twelve-year-old boy killed a large dog for practice. Then, with the experience of slaughtering a large living creature, he disposed of another child. The ghostly figure sat on the eaves of a roof, looking down, its expression one of calm acceptance, as if this outcome was long expected.
A sixteen-year-old youth emerged from a great fire and rested in a tidy room. The red-clad ghost swooped down, hovering outside the floor-to-ceiling window, its scarlet gaze fixed upon him, as tranquil as a god's. But the twenty-two-year-old was alone. In a cramped studio, he bent down and, with two fingers, plucked a black metal card from a pool of blood, examining it with great interest.
Having entered the Final Instance as "Zhou Ke," Si Qi was no stranger to the figure that had so often lingered by his side. It was, unmistakably, his customary attire as the Foolish Trickster. Of course, after they had exchanged fates, that particular outfit now belonged to Qi Si.
If what the vision showed was true, then the Qi Si he had sent back to the past timeline was still alive. He had been tailing him all this time like an unseen, lingering spirit—a bored spectator to the show.
But... why did Qi Si stop appearing after the age of twenty-two? Had his soul finally dispersed completely, or had he, at some point, engineered a way to replace him?
The reason for his disappearance was something Si Qi could not afford to ignore.
He and Qi Si had parted ways at a crossroads of fate, only to make a deal in the Final Instance. Although he had temporarily replaced Qi Si and gained the right to contend for godhood, the question of which of them was the *real* him was one worth considering.
Si Qi's perspective had remained unchanged since the *Dialectical Game*: if he looked like himself, believed himself to be himself, possessed his own thoughts and memories, and made his own choices, then he was, in fact, the real him, endowed with a natural right to exist.
But this game was no longer just a contest between him and Qi Si; it now involved the Ancestral God, Fu Jue, White Crow, and several other powers. He could not guarantee that a third party, intervening to either disrupt or stabilize the situation, wouldn't prop up the Qi Si he had already eliminated as the "legitimate" one.
Names and definitions were unimportant; neither he nor Qi Si had ever cared for such trifles. All that mattered was adhering to the primal survival instinct, the selfish gene, and doing whatever it took to ensure that it was *he* who survived.
But it was undeniable that if certain things were to happen, they would be more than just troublesome—they would be utterly revolting.
Therefore, just to be safe, Si Qi felt it was necessary to make a trip back to Jiang City and find the body Qi Si might have left behind. Whether he chose to guard it closely, usurp it for himself, or destroy it outright, any of those options was better than leaving a loose end that could complicate matters later.
...
May ninth, midnight. Qi Family Village, Jin City.
Xu Yao's form coalesced on the ceiling of the second-floor bedroom. She stared blankly into the empty air, lost in thought. Memories rushed in like a tidal wave, and it took a full half-hour for her to sort through the events of the past few days.
On May fourth, she and Qi Si had made their preparations to enter the Final Instance. When she opened her eyes again, she had been transported to a desolate plain in the middle of nowhere. Standing beside her was Lu Li, who was also under Qi Si's control.
Together, they had waited for a vehicle, arrived in Shangri-la Town, checked into an inn, and begun their ascent of the mountain. They had gotten along well on the journey, and even when they were later separated from Qi Si, she hadn't felt much fear. After all, she'd been a ghost for a long time, and her role had always been to inspire fear, not feel it.
But her last memory was of Lu Li. Countless slimy, glistening tentacles had suddenly erupted from his back. Pustule-yellow eyes, like an insect's compound eye, blinked open and shut. A single glance was enough to make her brain feel as if it were being filled with something transparent yet solid, while a chorus of chaotic whispers flooded her ears...
An Eastern ghost had never seen a Lovecraftian horror, so it was perfectly understandable that the sight of Lu Li had caused Xu Yao to short-circuit.
Now, looking down from the ceiling, she saw the young man in the white shirt lying in the center of the large bed. His eyes were shut tight, his limbs were rigid, and he wasn't breathing. He was, unmistakably, a corpse.
But how was that possible? A man as formidable as Qi Si... how could he just be dead?
Xu Yao drifted down to the floor. She reached out a finger and poked the young man's cheek. The skin gave way, denting without any elasticity—just like a corpse.
"Hey, Qi Si! Wake up!" she yelled, leaning close to his ear.
There was no response.
A conversation from her memory echoed as if it were only yesterday. The young man had said to her, half-joking, 'If I die, at least you'll be out here to collect my body. That way I won't end up exposed in the wilderness like my cousin.'
She had replied irritably, 'As a vengeful ghost, my idea of 'collecting your body' might just be eating it.'
The young man had shrugged it off. 'Be my guest. If you can stomach it, that is.'
Xu Yao mulled over what amounted to Qi Si's last will and testament. She gazed at the corpse before her—a body that couldn't possibly be any more dead—and fell deep into thought.