Chapter 457: January 1, 2038 |
January 1, 2038. The Shangri-La Snow Mountain.
Ever since the expedition team discovered Lin Jue's body on the mountain, the Weird Investigation Bureau had pieced together the beginning and end of the gambit he had undertaken alone.
By some unknown means, Lin Jue had gained the trust of the Ancestral God and accepted the supreme authority from her hands. He then used the God-Slaying Sword to kill himself, his new divine form, triggering a godfall of the highest order to bring about the world's revival.
With the unknown now known, the Weird Investigation Bureau could finally breathe a little easier. Yet, they didn't dare halt their exploration of the snow-capped peaks, fearing that a fissure might one day split open the mountain, allowing the strange phenomena that had been forced back underground to crawl back into reality.
More and more teams pushed into the mountain, gradually clearing out numerous campsites that could serve as rest stops. The fierce blizzards that had once blocked their path had also subsided slightly after a year and a half of calm, making the Bureau's worries seem like unfounded anxieties.
The nature of the Snow Mountain investigation team gradually shifted from a suicide squad to a tool for the higher-ups to siphon funds. Undaunted climbers and guides resumed their plans to reach the summit. After a few symbolic warnings, the Bureau let them be.
“Lin, any plans for the afternoon? Need a hand with anything?” a young man in an orange ski jacket asked with a grin, clapping Lin Chen on the shoulder at the Bureau’s halfway camp.
Lin Chen turned to him with a smile and shook his head. “No plans. Everyone should just rest up and do as they please.”
For the past six months, Lin Chen had served as a member of the Snow Mountain investigation team, repeatedly venturing into the mountain's most treacherous heartland to conduct surveys. He had brought back a wealth of invaluable visual data, which led to him being detached from his original unit during an expansion a month ago. He was given his own new team to lead as captain.
The members under Lin Chen were all young and brimming with curiosity. They knew of his "checkered past" as Si Qi's "accomplice" and the president of the Unnamed Guild, and they constantly pestered him with questions. Since Lin Chen had no airs about him and answered every query, they saw him more as a friend than a superior.
“Don’t try to fool us, Captain. I saw you getting your climbing gear out,” the young man teased, glancing around mischievously. “You’re not planning to charge into danger all by your lonesome again, are you? Rack up some merits and get yourself another work-related injury in the process?”
“What? Of course not. Haha,” Lin Chen chuckled. “I was just planning to take a walk over to the monument area, see how the construction on the memorial hall is coming along.”
The young man lost interest and retreated into his tent. “Well, make sure you come back early, Captain. Stay safe!”
Lin Chen gave a slight nod, grabbed his trekking pole, and began walking step by step toward the bustling construction site deep within the mountain.
As the epicenter of the godfall, the site where Lin Jue's body lay had long been suffused with grand and bizarre phenomena. Unknowable shapes drifted across the gray-white curtain of snow, while the silhouettes of men and beasts writhed and crawled, fading in and out of view.
These apparitions were harmless, but they could induce hallucinations and affect one's emotions. Anyone who entered their range would feel an inexplicable sorrow welling up from within, much like being at a funeral, infected by the grief of the mourners. It was, in a way, the perfect location for a memorial—at least everyone who came appeared sincere and earnest.
The living often reveled in meaningless gestures to commemorate the dead, using them to showcase their moral fiber and noble character. The very same people who would have gladly ground Lin Jue into the dirt when he was alive now postured as his staunchest supporters. They feared his potential resurrection on one hand, while on the other, they painstakingly framed him as a glorious, radiant idol, tearfully demanding that the Federation spare no cost or effort to erect a monument and a memorial hall in the snows to remember his sacrifice.
It was unknown how many pockets had been lined with the construction funds, but today, the towering structure officially named the "Monument to Humanity's Victory Against the Weird Game" stood majestically amidst the wind and snow. The likenesses of Lin Jue and Fu Jue were etched at its highest point, while the rest of its surface was densely inscribed with the names of players who had made outstanding contributions.
Lin Jue's body remained, still half-kneeling in the snow. The bronze longsword piercing his chest reflected a faint, eerie light, just as it had six months ago. No one dared touch this unsettling ice sculpture, terrified of triggering unbearable consequences. Alarmist rumors grew wilder with each retelling, and in the public's subconscious, Lin Jue's corpse became synonymous with ghosts and malevolent spirits.
The grandiose commemoration had backfired. Citizens, often keen to oppose the Federation, began to spin conspiracy theories based on whispers and shadows, claiming Lin Jue was a madman who had sought to annihilate all of humanity. They argued that the Weird Investigation Bureau, out of loyalty to their former leader, was simply trying to grant him a dignified end after his death.
Between one thing and another, the only ones willing to visit the monument were a handful of people like Lin Chen.
Lin Chen still had so many questions he couldn't answer—about the deaths of Si Qi and Lin Jue, about the gambit that involved gods and rules. But a corpse could offer no answers. He had wandered this area for months without finding any useful clues.
He looked from the serene expression on Lin Jue's face to the monument that soared into the clouds, and a sudden question struck him. “Wait, has the effect of the godfall faded? Why don't I feel any sadness? Instead, I feel... a little joyful?”
No, the influence hadn't faded. It had been hijacked by the intervention of a higher-dimensional existence and redirected, polluting everyone's emotions with its polar opposite. Joy had replaced sorrow.
The once-calm wind erupted from nothing, whipping the settled snow and ice crystals into the air. It shrieked as it scraped against the valley walls, a sound like the wailing of ghosts who had accumulated millennia of resentment.
The gray snow mist thickened, condensing in his vision into a long, tornado-like pillar. The writhing serpent of snow swept over the distant glaciers and the nearby ice sheet, crashing violently against the monument and the memorial hall.
A network of cracks appeared on the buildings' surfaces, spreading like a vast spiderweb in mere seconds. Lin Chen heard a splintering, crackling sound from the monument as massive stones broke off and slammed into the ground, exploding into blackish-gray dust.
It wasn't just the buildings; the ice itself was being destroyed. Fissures stretched out to the base of the ice sculpture, slithering upward like serpents. Lin Jue's body, enveloped by the cracks, began to dissipate from the edges. His face eroded away, his body lost its human form, and the silvery-white flecks of snow were carried off into the sky by the wind.
Flesh and blood mixed with ice and turned to dust. Every trace of his existence vanished before Lin Chen's eyes, leaving only the bronze sword slanted in the ice. A golden brilliance began to seep from its tip, illuminating every single fissure.
A massive black tower pierced the ice, shooting up like a bamboo stalk. It stood impossibly tall on the mountain, and the sky where its spire met the heavens bled into the golden yellow of the Sunset Ruins, spreading across the firmament like dye dropped into clear water.
“The Babylon Tower...” Lin Chen murmured, the vague premonitions he’d been having finally solidifying into reality.
The Weird Game really wasn't over... During a guild leaders' meeting, Yu Jinsheng had proposed that the Final Instance would be a tower-climbing game. Later, when the players were inexplicably put on a bus to the Snow Mountain without ever entering a tower, they had assumed the Listening Wind Guild's prediction was wrong. Now, it seemed things were not so simple.
If the Final Instance truly was a tower-climbing game, and the Shangri-La Snow Mountain—along with all the subsequent strange occurrences in the real world—was just the content of a single floor, then how many more floors were there? A single floor had brought humanity to the brink of annihilation. Now that Lin Jue was dead, what was humanity supposed to do?
An emotion called "despair" bloomed in Lin Chen's heart. He clenched and unclenched his fists, his teeth chattering uncontrollably. But due to the influence of some strange power, he was smiling, the corners of his lips frozen and unmovable.
The sky had turned completely golden. The roots of a giant tree stretched through the cracks in the ice, and the phantoms of ruined stone walls and European-style buildings flickered in and out of existence, near and far. The silver-clad mountain was now draped in the decor of the Sunset Ruins, both foreign and familiar. A figure in scarlet robes stood beneath the black tower, their long hair nearly touching the ground. A crimson gaze fell upon Lin Chen from afar, a hint of a cold smile playing on their lips, but beneath it lay a much deeper malice.
“Qi... Qi?” Lin Chen’s eyes widened as he stared at the face he would never forget.
Wasn't Qi Si dead? Why was he here? And... was that really Qi Si?
After everything that had happened, Lin Chen's feelings toward Qi Si were complicated, to say the least. Qi Si was a bona fide villain, a madman, a monster. He, on the other hand, was fundamentally an ordinary person who followed the rules and possessed a decent heart. If it weren't for the Weird Game, their paths would never have crossed.
But regardless, Qi Si had helped him a great deal and had never truly harmed him. Though he had repaid Qi Si with three of his own lives, the debt of gratitude was something cold numbers could never settle. Emotionally, he couldn't help but lean toward Qi Si. Rationally, however, he knew they walked different paths. Qi Si should have been his enemy.
‘Lin Chen, if you trust me, let's share a room... I'm a veteran player. I’ve cleared one instance and have a few tricks to stay alive, unlike a rookie like you.’
‘You don't need to feel guilty. I'm no saint; I've caused the deaths of many innocents. I'm just tired of playing and looking for a place to rest. And you don't need to sell yourself short. Compared to a scumbag like me who deserves to die, your life is clearly more valuable.’
‘You saved me once in the Colosseum instance. We're even.’
Scenes from the past surfaced from the depths of his memory. Lin Chen felt as if he were once again that indecisive rookie player in the Weird Game, hesitating, unsure how to face Qi Si, unsure if he should continue to stand with the Weird Investigation Bureau.
Then he saw the red-robed young man walking toward him. His face was as pale as a ghost's, with features as exquisitely carved as a statue. Every part of him bore a resemblance to Qi Si, yet pieced together, he looked less like the man he knew and more like a strange, unfamiliar god.
The red-robed, red-eyed god stopped before Lin Chen, a constant, mesmerizing smile on his face. His voice was soft and slow. “So you’re still alive...”
Lin Chen never expected those to be the first words. He opened his mouth to offer some sort of greeting, but not a single sound escaped. An excruciating pain exploded in his chest. He watched, wide-eyed, as the god's hand plunged through his torso and pulled out a still-beating, blood-red heart.
He stared blankly at the young man's flawless face, trying to find a single trace of the Qi Si he knew. But even as his consciousness sank completely into darkness, he found nothing. The being before him was only a god, no longer the Qi Si he recognized.
...
Qi casually disposed of the nuisance and sauntered back to the Babylon Tower, stepping leisurely into its dark, gaping entrance.
Illusory golden vines swayed in the cramped, dark space. Lines of silver text floated in the void, accompanied by the solemn whisper of the rules:
[Instance Name: World No. 47 - Snow Mountain]
[Instance Type: Final Instance - The Gods' Gambit]
[Participant Cleared: Qi]
[You may proceed to the next floor.]
Qi never underestimated mortal ingenuity, nor could he guarantee that Qi Si would have been able to outwit everyone. But in a one-player game, no matter how the rules changed, He would always be the sole winner.
Now that both White Crow and Lin Jue were dead, and Li was confined to a human shell, stuck puttering around somewhere, the only one left who could continue playing the game of rules was Qi.
If Qi had never returned to this world, the Weird Game would undoubtedly have ended, just as humanity believed.
The Snow Mountain would have been the final instance. If the Ancestral God's plan had succeeded, the world would have been rebooted. Since she failed, the result was Lin Jue's death erasing all mystery and weirdness, creating a world without gods for humanity.
Just as the Ancestral God never expected Qi's return, Lin Jue knew of it but couldn't devise a countermeasure. He could only do everything within his power.
Now, no one could stop what was about to happen.
Qi stepped onto the spiral staircase and ascended to the second floor of the Babylon Tower, a new world unfolding before him. Lush green vines covered the ground and stone walls, with layers upon layers of leaves hanging down, concealing humanoid creatures with plant branches growing from their bodies.
“Another short-lived outsider...” a deep voice began, laced with the rustling sound of plants growing, but it was cut short mid-sentence.
The scene froze as if someone had pressed pause. The static image slowly faded to gray, and the silver text appeared once more:
[Instance Name: World No. 47 - The Kingdom of Eternal Life]
[Instance Type: Final Instance - The Gods' Gambit]
[Participant Cleared: Qi]
[You may proceed to the next floor.]
In a game with only one participant, that person was naturally the destined winner.
Qi quickened his pace, climbing flight after flight of stairs, passing through the third, fourth, and fifth floors as visions of oceans, volcanoes, and cities in the sky flickered around him.
He stood at the top of the tower, gazing down at the nascent World Tree within a golden sphere of light, and he began to laugh. “According to the rules, I will become the new Ancestral God. But compared to that, I would much rather become the rules themselves.”