Chu Jiang attempted to expand his Chronos funding channel through the strange radio station before him, hoping to confirm whether Yang Zicang was still alive.
Bai Yuan sat by the stone steps amid the empty ruins, let out a sigh, then fell to the ground with a heavy heart, gazing up at the sky.
Many were launching funding requests without counterparties, as countless people in this area simultaneously received telepathic appeals from dozens of individuals.
But there was no response from the man being hunted by monsters.
–Is he really dead?– Luo Xin’s eyes shifted as he glanced at the person next to him.
–Probably. What a shame. To have made it that far while being chased by monsters, even if his abilities were weak, he might have been somewhat useful. But thanks to him, we now know that such a terrifying demon lurks inside.–
The monster, which could manifest its own image through mental mapping, they naturally knew its terrifying power.
Even within a Grade A intersecting zone, such a thing wouldn’t necessarily exist, yet it was hidden in a B-grade interdimensional space.
Liang Xi stood blankly in the tunnel, tears trailing down her cheeks.
The boy wiped his face with his dirty sleeve, then resumed his exploration of the monster’s nest.
……
The twin cartoon phantoms, condensed from mist, darted swiftly through the dark pipelines.
With their leader gone, the rat-like monsters scattered in panic, losing the fierce demeanor of tigers and wolves.
Whoosh! The phantoms traversed a disparity of a dozen meters in height, leaving a trail of mist as they appeared at the cave entrance.
Seeing no trace of the terrifying monster, Shaomin finally breathed a sigh of relief.
In the faint glow of the magic stones, the silhouettes of two figures could be discerned against the wall.
The embracing cartoon mist figures hung suspended in mid-air. One dangled before Yang Zicang’s head and swayed, but he showed no response.
–Are they all dead?–
[I sense the presence of a Chronos Armament!]
Shaomin’s eyes suddenly snapped open wide.
Moxel had actually proactively responded to Chronos Weaponry—this meant the weapon possessed at least fifty Chronos per strike; otherwise, it wouldn’t have reacted.
It was that Lance!
The two misty figures pressed all four hands against the Lance, straining and heaving with effort, yet they could only lift it by a mere fraction.
–Heavens… Wait, a thousand Chronos to carve open space? What does that mean?–
If only he had that much Chronos.
–Curse it—this is a rare, fine treasure. No choice left… it has to be this way!–
Steeling his resolve, he invested ninety-nine years of Chronos principal, strengthening his ability to drag heavier objects.
–This is the fortune I’ve painstakingly saved up—it has to succeed!–
The two cartoonish fog figures gritted their teeth, leaning back as they dragged Lance forward, causing Shaomin’s heart to pound wildly.
–It’s moving. It’s working. I’ll soon have a Chronos War Artifact of my own!–
He could barely contain his eagerness to dash into the lair and retrieve it.
The silver Lance scraped softly across the ground, turning its direction toward the outside of the den.
Just as the tail of Lance was about to slip beyond Yang Zicang’s arm’s reach, a hand abruptly shot out and pressed down on it.
–Huh?– At the sight of the other end, a chilling shiver shot up Shaomin’s spine.
He saw the man slumped in the corner raise a demon-like glare, locking eyes with him.
–He’s still alive?!–
Whoosh—a massive burst of suction erupted from the front of Lance. The energy of the two fog figures instantly diminished by a quarter.
Shaomin’s perceived vision blurred and twisted, and he instantly knew something had gone horribly wrong.
–Tsk.– Hastily, he dispelled his ability, clamping his hand over his stinging eyes.
It was nearly a minute before he opened them again, but everything he saw felt hazy, as though he had become nearsighted.
–That bastard—he’s still alive, and he got ahold of the Chronos War Artifact! Ah, my eyes, you damned bastard!–
After uttering his bitter curses, Shaomin felt a sudden chill creep into his heart.
–Don’t underestimate Quad…–—those were the words Matt Chao had urged upon him, and they had come true far too soon.
That kid actually managed to survive in such a perilous situation.
A thought abruptly crossed his mind, startling him with its own audacity.
–Ha, Matt Chao can’t possibly lose.–
He rose and took a few steps while covering his eyes, though each step grew slower than the last.
–But what if he does lose…–
……
[I am in a place unknown even to death itself. Is this what the ancients called ‘dying in a foreign land’…?]
Somewhere in a half-conscious state, Yang Zicang listened to the inner monologue tinged with sorrow.
This was indeed his own emotion, yet it had crystallized into a more specific form, shaping into a soliloquy.
It felt both like himself and like an extraneous, inner voice—a redundant thought.
And that redundancy mirrored the –redundant space– of Moxel; while part of its consciousness was his own, the other part felt decidedly superfluous.
Now, however, Yang Zicang sensed that Moxel had changed somehow, and that sense of superfluity was fading.
If Moxel was once like a speaker hanging on his chest, it now seemed like an organ transplanted into him—his instincts were starting to accept it as part of his body.
Their shared experience of death had deepened Moxel’s resonance with his own consciousness.
–Are we going to die together?–
[There’s no –we,-** only me.**]
Yang Zicang turned his head slightly, struggling to rest his hand on the Chronos War-Artifact.
New, fine black cracks spread across the silver spear’s surface, markings left behind after its black hole devoured the Black Iron Tome and the Ratman Chieftain.
At the same time, a piece of feedback about the spear came through.
[Grav-Arc.]
That name was the first thing he felt upon touching the spear.
First things first—this was indeed a Cent-Arms, one that could inflict a hundred-year temporal strike with every blow.
Secondly, the gun had a unique ability: gravity, though to put it that way wasn’t quite accurate.
It could generate attraction within a range of over thirty centimeters, fiercely pulling in objects under ten kilograms—anything heavier would also feel some influence. This ability was [Grav-Arc].
In essence, its true function was to store the space of this weapon.
So what I had actually gained was this ability named Grav-Arc; the silver long spear was but its accessory.
[Opening a 「Gravity Space」 for the first time requires chrono-energy of 1,000 N.]
[I sense that peeling the Chronos War-Artifact away will consume unknown items not present in this world.]
Yang Zicang let out a bitter laugh inside—where did he still have the Chronos to pioneer this space for storing the Lance?
He never expected that just a minute or two of battle would bring him all the way back to square one; he had been gloating over his fourfold amplification earlier.
Feeling the wound on his chest, it was severe—air leaked through with each breath. Apart from his arm, his entire upper body was numb and completely immobile.
Just then, another wave of chill surged from the cave entrance.
Yang Zicang cast a cold sidelong glance—it was that misty cartoon figure again. He hurriedly moved his fingers, struggling to press them against the rifle’s stock.
Smack! Something like a patch was flung into Yang Zicang’s arms.
The cartoon fog figure pointed at the object, then at its own chest, mimicking the motion of applying it, before dissipating.
Yang Zicang wondered in astonishment, –Who is this person? I attacked him, yet he still comes to help me.–
Slowly shifting his arm, he used two fingers to painstakingly pinch a gap in the thing. During this, he nearly fainted several times. Just tearing half the patch open alone took no less than five or six minutes.
But when Yang Zicang finally managed to peel the patch’s sticker apart, he thought: Is this thing really meant to heal an injury?
[I’ve developed doubts about the authenticity of the healing item.]
What should I do? Should I actually apply it or not?
The earlier disturbance that chilled his head and stirred negative emotions seemed very much like something that foggy cartoon entity had done.
Yang Zicang stared at the patch, caught in a dilemma.
[The 22nd Councilor revealed his presence to me. He wants me to play a riddle game.]
–A riddle… game…?–
–[If you guess correctly, this item will possess a powerful healing effect. If you guess wrong, this item will become a potent poison. In either case, it will automatically be used.]–
Yang Zicang broke out in a cold sweat.
At a moment like this, did those unknown entities still have the mood to amuse themselves at his expense?
–What do you want to guess?–
After being caught in a dilemma, Yang Zicang said, feeling utterly drained.
–[Councilor No. 22 asks you to guess whether this temporal object has the effect of healing injuries.]–
–I…!–
Yang Zicang grumbled inwardly. This really isn’t just messing with me for sport?
After a few moments of mental haze shrouding his brain, clarity suddenly cut through like a knife, surprising him from the young man’s murky depths.
At first glance, aside from having this game – leaving as though it didn’t exist made no real difference – there was actually a slight distinction.
Yang Zicang soaked in the delicate limpidity within his heart — the same overwhelming sense of pure emptiness his spirit did taste as he inhaled his last reedy breaths on the verge of death’s collapsing brink.
That faint afterglow of emptiness was still there, yet pain rushed quickly in to shatter it into smithereens. Under rivulets of fallen blood, his fragile frame continued slithering deeper into the limitless abyss left in its wake.
In that whisper of clear emptiness, Yang Zicang’s perception grew more and more ethereal. At that moment, inspiration suddenly sparked like an unexpected burst of hidden light in pure darkness.
–I think I want to ask a question — one not directly related to this guess.–
–[Councilor No. 22 approved my request to ask a question.]–
–So-called council members, aside from ‘guidance,’ are they unable to directly intervene in our choices or development, unless under specific circumstances—such as encountering a special monster similar to the Mother Entity?–
When Yang Zicang said the word –guidance,– his tone was hesitant, as if it wasn’t the most precise term.
[Councilor No. 22 appreciated my keen insight, acknowledging that I was not mistaken.]
Yang Zicang let out a soft laugh, feeling a sense of weakness inside, and said:
–Thank you, I have no further questions. As for the riddle’s answer, I guess it ‘has a healing effect.’–
Having received confirmation of my query, the answer was all but settled.
[I have given my first answer; the councilor offered me a ten-second window to change my mind, and the solution is about to be revealed!]
[Time’s up.]
The unrolled plaster in his hand was torn apart by an invisible force, and with a sharp sound like tape being stuck, it attached itself to his chest.
–Did I guess correctly?– Yang Zicang felt a bit nervous.
A faint green light emerged, and the young man perceived an incredibly comfortable energy surging from it, gathering into the wound on his chest.
[I, the great Quad, somehow managed to get it right!]
–Heh, yeah, I got it right.–
Yang Zicang breathed a sigh of relief.
His physical strength rapidly recovered, and aside from a lingering malaise in his spirit, most of his other injuries healed within mere half a minute.
Leave a Reply