Chapter 459: Disaster and Destruction (The End of the Cycle) |
Above the snow mountain, the shadow of the Babylon Tower blotted out the sun, casting a pall over all of Shangri-La. A blizzard, tens of degrees below freezing, swept through the Weird Investigation Bureau’s camp with a chill potent enough to freeze everything in its path. The nascent bonfire froze solid, turning into a block of orange-red ice.
The moment the Babylon Tower appeared, Li Yunyang had grabbed her climbing staff and rushed toward the heart of the mountain. By the time she arrived, the monument and Lin Jue’s body were gone, leaving behind nothing but a field of pulverized ice.
Lin Chen lay sprawled in the snow, a massive, gaping hole torn through his chest. A crimson pool of blood stained the snowdrift beneath him, glowing a brilliant, faint pink under the setting sun.
Only a god-level being could have accomplished all this in an instant. But how could a god appear in this land where gods had fallen? And which god was it?
Chu Yining had once prophesied that Qi Si would return to the real world after Si Qi’s death. But a year and a half of peace had allowed too many other possibilities to fester, and a vague utterance seemed more like sensational fear-mongering than a credible prediction.
Besides, if it really was him, why would he kill Lin Chen?
Li Yunyang couldn’t understand it, but the reality of a god’s descent was upon them, rendering such questions irrelevant. She raised her walkie-talkie and commanded, "All units, cease all operations! Retreat immediately!"
Static buzzed in her ear, and Li Yunyang couldn't be sure if the message had gotten through. She stared at the open gate of the Babylon Tower, her hand unconsciously tightening around her specialized pistol as she cautiously approached.
A sharp pain shot through the sole of her foot, and her legs refused to move another step. She looked down and saw that hard ice had, at some point, crept up her ankles, spreading all the way to her waist and heart.
A figure in red and black appeared before her, a long bronze sword in one hand. With the other, he tucked the black-and-white card into his sleeve.
She looked at the man’s face. It was a face that had once been on the Weird Investigation Bureau’s most-wanted list, yet it was now exquisitely, starkly different.
Her lips trembled as she silently formed two words: "Qi Si..."
...
In a villa in the heart of Jiang City, Jin Yusheng, seated in his wheelchair, wheeled himself rapidly toward a hidden room behind the wall.
In a flash, crimson threads materialized around him, instantly binding his limbs. He and his wheelchair froze in place, unable to move.
Blood-red veins bulged on his skin, tracing the path of his blood vessels and bringing a sharp, needle-like pain. The omens of death descended one after another, but Jin Yusheng had expected this. He let out a soft sigh.
The influence of the Soul Contract had never faded. He had known of Qi Si’s return even before the Weird Investigation Bureau did. He’d just held onto a sliver of hope, thinking that since he had been spared for so long, there might still be a chance for a different outcome.
Now it seemed he had overestimated their friendship and underestimated Qi Si’s malice. He had deceived Qi Si for six years; there was no way he would be let off lightly. This life was forfeit.
Red light spilled in through the window, bathing the floor and walls in a clamorous warmth. Jin Yusheng’s body was also steeped in the bloody hue, making him look as if he were grievously wounded and bleeding profusely.
He resigned himself to it, sitting quietly in his wheelchair and abandoning all struggle as he awaited his imminent death.
The pain intensified, piercing through flesh and bone to reach his very soul, like an invisible blade slicing him apart piece by piece.
Jin Yusheng was terrified of pain, so much so that he was on the verge of tears. Yet, he had to maintain the composure befitting the acting president of the Listening Wind Guild, forcing himself to remain calm and collected.
He couldn't help but smile bitterly. Knowing Qi Si, his goal this time was most likely the destruction of the entire world. Jin Yusheng was just dying a little earlier than everyone else. It was more painful, perhaps, but not a total loss.
An elongated shadow fell from behind, blocking a small patch of the red light overhead. A pair of golden eyes flashed in his peripheral vision. Jin Yusheng was slightly stunned; he truly hadn’t expected that the one to claim his life would be this particular god.
He had thought Qi Si would come for him personally. He never imagined he wouldn't even get to see him one last time.
Jin Yusheng suddenly wanted to leave some last words for Li to pass on to Qi Si, but after thinking it over, he couldn't decide what to say. In that moment of hesitation, he saw the black [Taboo Scholar] card floating before him, grasped by a pale hand.
The next second, the world plunged into absolute darkness.
...
Outside the Near River District, at the morning market, Qiu Lihua stood before her breakfast stall, mechanically spreading egg-filled crepes on the griddle.
A year and a half ago, she had been restored from her monstrous state to her human form, but her son, Yang Yao, had been shot and died for good. She wasn't as grief-stricken as she had imagined she would be, but from that day on, she lost the capacity for joy, living her days in a daze, as if in a dream.
Today, she once again saw the scarlet rose vines from her memories, spreading and sprawling, covering everything.
She didn't know what those vines were, only that when they were here, her son, though acting strangely, had been alive and well.
Now that the vines had reappeared, had her son come to find her? Would the vines resurrect him? Qiu Lihua stared blankly at the world suffused with red light, took a step forward, and reached for a vine.
A sharp thorn pierced her palm, and an image of her son appeared before her eyes. He was glaring at her impatiently as always, cursing his own rotten luck. But it was her son...
The crowd was screaming. Men, women, and children who saw the vines scattered in every direction. A little girl tripped and fell, wailing her heart out. Her grandfather turned back to help her but was shoved to the ground by the stampeding mob.
But it made no difference. There was no escape; no one could escape. The thorn-covered vines struck like vipers, mercilessly coiling around their ankles and piercing their hearts.
Scarlet roses drew nourishment from their blood, blooming luxuriantly upon human bodies as crimson droplets spattered the ground.
Someone fell, then another, and another. The moment they hit the ground, they turned to soil, and the roses instantly blossomed into a sea of flowers, a blazing, magnificent inferno.
Bizarre disasters erupted all over the world. A black tide submerged coastal fishing villages as fish-headed humanoids crawled ashore, tearing at the villagers and tourists who couldn't escape in time.
Yellow flowers and butterflies bloomed throughout the rainforests. Wherever they passed, humans died in droves as if from a plague, their corpses sprouting purple mushrooms and dark green mold.
Children walked out of their homes, skipping and forming lines, clapping their hands as they marched into the sea. The elderly shriveled up as if dehydrated, their newly mummified corpses reaching for their own children with sharp claws.
Bathed in the bloody celestial light, some people grew fangs, their eyes turning crimson as they hunted for flesh and blood. The rest also underwent mutations to varying degrees—some were covered in pustules, while others lost all their flesh, becoming skeletons.
The world was collapsing, dying. The edges of the earth curled like scorched parchment. Towering buildings buckled and fell, mountains were snapped in two and used to fill ravines, and rivers were ripped from their beds by a colossal force and flung into cities.
The floodwaters raged, but there was no Noah's Ark to preserve the spark of humanity, no Moses to part the Red Sea. Some knelt and begged for the gods’ mercy; others cursed the Weird Investigation Bureau with the vilest language, professing their loyalty to the gods. The gods neither saw nor heard, merely continuing the process of destruction. And so, the last vestiges of hope were replaced by despair. Cries of anguish drifted between heaven and earth, only to be drowned out by the roar of the rain.
A torrent of blood-red rain poured down, not to signify the death of a god, but to announce the annihilation of the world.
The water level rose maniacally, climbing floor by floor up the skyscrapers. Inside, people tore at each other, fighting for a chance to reach higher ground, a futile effort to merely delay death.
"I don't want to die... I can't die... There are so many things I still want to do..."
"Save me... someone save me... It hurts so much..."
Tear-filled voices rose and fell, spreading useless fear and panic. No one wanted to die, but they had no choice. No one could save anyone else; they couldn't even save themselves.
In a day and a night of torrential rain, every city and village drowned. The disaster sent by the god devoured all fates and sins with perfect equality. Humans and beasts died together, leaving the world in silence.
High above, a solemn temple hung suspended in the dome of the sky. Qi sat upon a bronze throne, looking down upon the ravaged world below.
The Fate Pocket Watch, symbolizing the authority over time and space, had received ample offerings. It could restart a new worldline at any moment, returning to January 1, 2014, to begin the cycle anew.
Across the past forty-six worldlines, Qi had initiated forty-six resets. Each time, his gambit against the rules had failed at the final moment due to some minor deviation, forcing him to start a new game.
But he believed in the correctness of his plan and knew that success was possible. All he had to do was keep restarting. Among thousands of worldlines, a parallel version of him was bound to succeed.
And now, he had indeed succeeded. The moment the last living being was destroyed, the power of the rules weakened to a negligible point. Once the very source of sin was eradicated, the rules were nothing more than a higher form of the bizarre.
The endless cycle had come to a close. A period had been drawn; there would be no more loose ends.
A figure in black with golden eyes appeared at the temple gates, walking slowly toward the throne. Li drew the [Taboo Scholar] card from his sleeve and held it out to Qi. "I can no longer feel the presence of the rules. It seems we have succeeded."
Qi did not correct his use of "we," nor did he point out that Li had played no significant role from beginning to end. He simply smiled gently and said, "Thank you for your help this time."
Li gave a slight nod. Just as he was about to turn away, his brows furrowed sharply. An agonizing pain, the harbinger of death, shot through him. He looked down at his chest.
In the brief moment they had been speaking, a bronze longsword had appeared out of thin air in Qi's hand, and he had thrust it backward, piercing Li's heart.
Golden blood flowed thickly through the black fabric, mingling with the existing gold embroidery until they were indistinguishable. He stiffly raised his eyes to Qi and asked, word by word, "Why..."
"I told you before," Qi said, his eyes crinkling into a smile. He casually withdrew the sword, flinging off a string of golden blood. "This world no longer needs to exist. So, as a part of the world, why should the gods continue to exist?"
To him, this seemed to be self-evident, and his tone was perfectly natural as he spoke. He laughed, looking quite pleased.
"As vessels of sin, only when the gods also fade away can I be assured that the rules will not be restored."
His laughter grew more and more theatrical. The space around them began to tremble chaotically. A medley of colors streamed down like meteors, losing their luster as they fell and transforming into a thick, cloying darkness.
The light was vanishing, and so was the sound. The world folded in on itself like a box, gathering all good and evil, humans and ghosts, life and death within it. And then, nothing existed, as if it had never existed at all.
Nothingness... After the rules disappeared, only nothingness remained... The last god sat upon his throne, waiting for the darkness to consume his robes, his hair, and his flesh.
The golden points of light were utterly annihilated the moment they dispersed. Feeling his own demise, he thought, what a pity there’s no popcorn, and the view isn't that great. But it didn't matter. A god who had walked through billions of years did not resist destruction, nor did he feel lonely.
Phantoms of the past appeared on either side of the long bronze table before him. The young man and woman who once sat beneath the World Tree, laughing and talking; the human leaders who had once paid homage to him, their faces full of reverence; the fleeting images of interesting players who flashed by and faded away. In the end, only two figures remained, one to his left and one to his right. One wore a white shirt and black trousers, the other, a long red suit.
"Is this the death you chose for yourself? Aesthetically speaking, it's completely devoid of artistry..." Qi Si said with a hint of mockery, toying with the silver bracelet on his wrist.
Si Qi spread his hands, unconcerned. "But considering the entire world is going down with me, this way of dying isn't so bad. It's interesting, at least, isn't it?"
Qi watched with a faint smile, remaining silent as Qi Si and Si Qi debated the merits of this particular method of dying.
Their argument made the dark space feel lively, and soon, other sounds emerged. A voice asked from the void: [Do you want to become the rules?]
It was his own voice—or more accurately, his own thought. Having reached such a height, sitting in such a position, it was only natural for such a desire to arise.
Desire? Qi half-sighed, half-smiled, shaking his head slightly. "I have no interest in creating worlds and living beings. That is a truly boring affair."
"Is that so?" Si Qi propped his chin on his hand and narrowed his eyes. "But creating a world with unique rules and then destroying it... don't you find that interesting?"
Qi Si tapped his index finger on the tabletop, looking languid. "Unfortunately, the sunk cost is too high and the return on investment takes too long. I feel like I'd lose patience before the world was even built... However, I am quite curious what new experiences becoming the rules would bring. It's two votes to one now."
"How about we toss a coin?" Si Qi said with a smile. "I remember a certain hypothesis: 'Does God play dice?' So—shall we flip a coin?"
"An excellent suggestion." A golden coin materialized at Qi's fingertips. One side was engraved with a rose, the other with illegible text.
He tossed the coin into the air. The thin, circular piece spun rapidly, soaring to its apex before falling back down. A bright glint from an unknown light source cut through the darkness, refracting a magnificent array of colors.
Qi said seriously, "If it lands on roses, I will become the rules."
No one, man or god, objected. Possessing similar personalities, memories, and pasts, they could easily reach a consensus on most things. They could even think of the same ways to cheat.
Three pairs of eyes watched the still-spinning coin, flippantly and absurdly waiting for it to provide an answer—an answer that would decide the fate of the world.
[END]
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