He was back.
When Cheng Shi opened his eyes and saw the brilliant starry sky overhead, the shock inside him had still not settled. That blazing white crown of [Prosperity] had burned itself into his vision like a brand — leaving behind the silhouettes of countless Big Cats, impossible to erase or shake away.
He could barely imagine what sequence of world-line events could lead so many Hong Lins to carry [Origin]-force toward that Creator's throne — a throne that could never be shaken. He couldn't imagine how many worlds' Hong Lins had gathered in one place, each carrying the sa mission.
When they saw each other there — what did they feel? Anguished sighing? Grief? Or was it high-spirited defiance, thousands united in a single will?
Probably the latter. Because that was Big Cat. A Druid who would throw everything away for her friends. If she got to et ten million versions of herself, all charging forward without hesitation just like her — she would probably have been very happy.
Cheng Shi had thought that after witnessing [War]'s charge, the drying of its blood and the dying of its fire, and the Blood-Red Mockery — he could no longer be shaken to this degree. But he had still underestimated the living beings of this universe.
Knowing the path ahead led nowhere — and still pressing forward with all their strength.
Life's defiance had never stopped since the mont of birth. It reached its very peak in the instant before death.
Whether they succeeded or not, Cheng Shi had no way of knowing. But he was certain — they had not stagnated and rotted in the corner of failure.
He was deeply moved by that.
Fortunately — he, like them, was also resisting. Unfortunately — his ending would most likely be just like theirs: he could only hope to live without regret, and die in brilliance...
No. He couldn't think that way. The path ahead was still undetermined. Everything was still possible.
Cheng Shi's gaze snapped to focus. He sprang to his feet, imdiately grabbed his phone and called Zhang Jizu to confirm that Old Zhang, not present in front of him, had also returned safely.
The call connected quickly. The mont Zhang Jizu's voice ca through, Cheng Shi finally released a long breath — he could report back to Death's boss now.
But before that breath was even half out, the very next second — his whole body shuddered. He froze where he stood.
Because the voice from the other end of the call said:
"Cheng Shi — the Assembly of Gods Convention has begun."
The brutal truth caught Cheng Shi completely off guard — though in truth, he didn't need Zhang Jizu to tell him. Because when he turned his head, he had already seen it: a void gate, split open right on the rooftop of the rest area.
A swirling gate of void had descended in silence. Hanging from its outer fra were countless mask wind chis — laughing, raging, weeping, wailing — and an endless aura of [Deceit] poured out from behind the door, like a light wind brushing past each mask, playing for the stunned Cheng Shi standing before it a [Deceit]-song of "mockery from all directions."
So this was the Audience Gate — the gate leading to the Assembly of Gods Convention?
Listening to the lively tune, Cheng Shi couldn't shake the feeling that those chiming wind chis were laughing at him — laughing because he'd co back late. No — more accurately, co back at exactly the right ti.
Look. The mont he returned, the Convention began.
Could this be a coincidence?
Absolutely not.
Again. This again. Every ti he returned from the Real Universe, this reclusive Fun God distorted ti, compressed the clown's preparation ti, and forced him to take the stage imdiately. It never asked his opinion. Never gave him any advance notice. Just slamd a stage in his face like this — crude and direct — waiting for the clown to perform.
Couldn't the clown at least prepare a little? Did the clown have no right to any advance information?! And even if the clown had no right to information — surely the clown had the right to choose?
If you want
to go in — I refuse.
In that mont, every ounce of the clown's inner "defiance" was ignited. His eyelid twitched violently. He spat toward the void with full feeling, stared daggers at that gate, and took two deliberate steps backward — making his refusal clear through action.
Those two steps, however, nearly sent him walking directly into another gate.
Another gate. There was a second void gate descending to the rest area's rooftop. A gate identical in form opened right behind him — but this dark gate bore no floating mask wind chis. Instead, it was strung with countless dice, row upon row, like curtain beads.
The back of Cheng Shi's head grazed the dice curtain and triggered ripple after ripple of barely-audible murmuring. Countless dice rubbed against each other in a creaking babble of noise — the chaotic sound was maddening. Cheng Shi instinctively wanted to rip all the dice down — but when he reached out, he suddenly realized his hand had already passed through a void gate, and what he was grabbing wasn't the annoying dice curtain at all — it was the mocking mask wind chis.
He had nearly been deceived by an illusion and stepped through [Deceit]'s door.
"F—!"
Cheng Shi swore and yanked his hand back, jumped clear, and stood firm again — looking at the two bizarre void gates before him with an expression that defied description.
After that near-miss, he couldn't even be sure whether the tokens on each door were actually correct. What if the gate hung with masks led to [Fate]'s Assembly, and the dice-covered one was the stage [Deceit] had prepared for him?
Had the Fun God seen through the clown completely, and was now playing a reverse psychology ga?
Cheng Shi's expression darkened.
Seemingly two choices — but actually no choice at all. The clown had wanted to choose neither — but both gates were expanding like anchors of void invading reality, growing and spreading, until before long they had swallowed the entire rooftop rest area's reality, turning it into two different patches of void, pushing toward the last strip of solid ground beneath Cheng Shi's feet.
If he didn't choose soon, the void gates would swallow him — and at that point, which door he ended up in would seem to be entirely up to [Void]'s will. But he didn't need to think hard about that. [Void]'s will would definitely send him through the Fun God's door — because [Fate] was still being held sowhere by the Fun God, and no one knew where.
Thinking of this, Cheng Shi laughed — exasperated.
Fine. You love tornting the clown, do you? Love forcing the clown to perform without notice, do you? Then don't bla the clown for improvising wildly on your stage.
The Assembly of Gods Convention was just an audience with divine beings. But what's interesting about eting a divine being? [Deceit] was known by everyone — eting it wouldn't be anything special. Better to do sothing fresh — an audience with Yu Xi instead.
Did everyone know Yu Xi? That [Void] servant god who had never shown its face to the world — [Deceit]'s Envoy. Didn't know? That was fine. One eting, and all would be familiar.
Thinking of what was about to happen, Cheng Shi let out an amused snort. His expression beca extraordinarily playful.
You want to play? Then I'll play along.
Yu Xi took up his mask. Adjusted his attire. Then, with easy, unhurried steps, walked forward into the spreading void gate.
But he still hadn't chosen [Deceit]'s door. Because right now, Yu Xi was just as defiant as [Deceit] itself. Once, at the very starting point of a path of fate, he had chosen "both." And this ti—
He was choosing [Fate].
He would take his fate into his own hands — not because he believed in destiny, but because his shadow had chosen [Deceit].
When the Greed Lord stands before you, what choice is there to even make? He was choosing both, of course. Only this ti — he would use [Deceit] to deceive [Fate], and use [Fate] to gamble against [Deceit].
Yes. He was [Void]'s sacrifice. But he also wanted to beco [Void]'s "master" — and write the conclusion of the era's ending with his own hands.
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