Chapter 958: Behind the Scenes
That day, countless people in Stone City made choices about their own fates with the sudden appearance of "options," stepping onto different branches of the river of destiny.
So young won chose their parents over their lovers and turned back ho at the very last mont instead of eloping.
So veteran judges chose money over conscience—only for all evidence of their bribery to appear on the lawyer’s desk the very next mont.
So long-suffering "honest n," pushed to ruin, chose to fight back and perish together with their enemies.
So young students, when faced with options, picked a gift their beloved supposedly hated the most—yet that very choice made the girl see him in a new light...
These examples, each flowing into a different "branch of fate" because of choices, made Ebner faintly realize: the river of destiny in the mysterious world—or rather, the root of the "World of Absolute Rationality"—was not the determinism so scientists of his previous life had firmly believed in, nor was there a "Laplace’s Demon." Instead, as the honorific na of the "Key of Light" described, it was "Endless Chaos"!
But the uniqueness of the "Wheel of Fortune" on the Key of Light’s pathway was attempting to digitize the world, to construct determinism, to beco Laplace’s Demon... That was quite interesting.
As he pondered, Ebner noticed the young man he had just granted a "fate choice" to walking into a church with a redeed expression, and his lips twitched.
That young man’s circumstances were sowhat similar to Ebner’s own. Born into a wealthy family, he had once lived without worry. But after a sudden mishap, the family business went bankrupt, his parents committed suicide, and his stable life collapsed.
Unlike Ebner, he had neither good looks nor generous classmates to help him. He soon fell onto the streets.
Earlier, after going hungry for more than a day, his mind had turned dark. He had planned to rob a woman dragging a heavy suitcase.
Just as hunger began to overwhelm his conscience, the "Fate Choice System" appeared before his eyes.
The mont of clarity it gave him allowed him to resist the urge, and instead he helped the woman carry her suitcase to the inn. Not only did he receive two soules as a reward, but she also gifted him a pair of fine gloves.
Then text appeared again, showing him the consequences of choosing robbery.
"Being eaten by the suitcase and turned into its reserve of flesh and blood? What does that even an?" The young man hadn’t understood, but he knew it wasn’t good.
Like Simon before him, he thought it was a divine revelation. He decided to confess his "sin" at church.
If it were only ’fate choices,’ the priests likely wouldn’t take it seriously... but if he also spoke of ’being eaten by the suitcase,’ then official teams would inevitably investigate...
"Looks like I’ll have to stop for now... Mm, the sun is almost setting. It’s about ti to head for Kabas town."
Turning back, Ebner glanced at the inn where the suitcase woman was staying, thinking:
"If I’m not wrong, that woman should be with the Psychological Alchemists—a backup for tonight’s Kabas expedition. If sothing happens to the main team, she would ’accidentally’ enter Kabas through the dream and disrupt Yaloran’s ritual.
"Heh, if that’s the case, it’s good that the officials are onto her. At least she won’t get a good night’s sleep, and without that, she can’t enter the dream.
"Too bad I don’t know how many pawns the Dragon of Imagination has planted...
"Now, it all depends on whether Vera can stall the forr Dragon King."
...
Stone City, Clough Inn, a corner room on the second floor.
Ithlant Osisleka put down the heavy suitcase and rubbed her shoulder before carefully peeling off a thin mask in front of the mirror, revealing her doll-like face.
"I don’t even know why the organization sent
with such a terrifying sealed artifact to East Chester County... I’m just a little ’Telepathist.’ Why was I assigned a task at this level?
"I feel like it could eat
at any mont!"
The girl sighed, perford a ritual to seal the suitcase completely, and then prepared to wash up in the ensuite bathroom to rid herself of fatigue.
But just as she was about to undress, she heard a knock on the door.
"Who’s there?" Ithlant asked cautiously.
"Ma’am, we’re the inn’s staff here to check the gas pipes," ca a voice.
Ithlant gave an "oh," replaced her mask, and moved to open the door. Yet her "Spectator" instincts suddenly picked up sothing odd.
"There’s tension in his tone... and even a trace of excitent...
"That’s not how a gas repairman should sound... Sothing’s wrong!"
Her thoughts spun. Ithlant pulled out the sealed suitcase again, fished a chunk of flesh from her bag, and tossed it to the box.
The mont it touched, the flesh disappeared, and in her mind flashed the scene she would see upon opening the door: three n in police special operations uniforms pressing guns to her vitals.
"An official Beyonder team... How did they find
so fast?" Her face turned pale. Without hesitation, she fed the rest of the flesh in her bag to the suitcase.
The next mont, her body began fading inch by inch, her outline erased like pencil lines rubbed away.
At the sa ti, the door was kicked open. Three Mandated Punishers stord in, covering each other, but all they found was a suitcase sitting quietly on the floor.
Yet they treated it like a deadly enemy. In their spiritual perception, it was no suitcase, but a monster ravenous for flesh!
"At least a Grade-2 Sealed Artifact, and already close to losing control... It’s beyond us..." the leader swallowed hard. "Corey, evacuate the inn, say there’s a bomb...
"Jenkins, get back to the church for reinforcents."
"Yes." Knowing the urgency, the other two moved imdiately.
They didn’t notice a woman trailing behind Jenkins in invisibility, hiding her presence under his footsteps as she slipped out of the inn.
When invisibility wore off, Ithlant hailed a carriage toward the nearby market.
She had to buy enough flesh before the suitcase went mad.
—Ever since binding to the suitcase, no matter where she abandoned it, it would eventually teleport back to her. And if she didn’t have enough flesh ready, it would devour her.
I hope the Mandated Punishers can truly seal it... Its hunger grows each day. I can hardly keep up... she whispered a prayer, though she had little hope.
...
In the depths of the collective subconscious, a gray rock-scaled dragon soared. Mist of many colors spread around it, thin at first, but quickly thickening.
"Tamara, co out!" the dragon’s buzzing voice rumbled—in draconic.
At its call, a woman in a blue dress-armor stepped from the mist, with full lips and deep-gray eyes. She sneered: "Pride... or should I say, Your Majesty the Dragon King. This road is blocked."
"Tamara, are you breaking the covenant?" the huge gray-white dragon demanded.
"No. You were the one to break it first... You used
to sche against Yaloran." Vera—no, Leticia Tamara—drew her longsword.
"She’s your ally, not mine!" the dragon replied again.
Tamara laughed, mocking: "And what’s your purpose in arguing here?
"To invade my mind... or are you waiting for Him to descend power?
"Heh, I never imagined you could even cooperate with your enemy."
"What else do you know?" The dragon’s breath grew heavier. Coldly, it said, "Too bad you know too late... You can’t stop it!"
Tamara sneered again. "You really know nothing...
"That One is trapped in the Forsaken Land of the Gods. Even transmitting power across space is difficult... And with the God of Knowledge and Wisdom watching, how could He possibly succeed?"
"Herabergen? Hers clearly distracted Him. How could He still be paying attention here?" the dragon’s buzzing voice was filled with disbelief.
"That’s why I said you know nothing." Tamara smiled coldly, sneering in her heart: His uniqueness is obvious. Gods watching him is the norm...
Perhaps this old dragon was being used. After all, it wasn’t the first ti his sches had served as cover for others.
...
Sowhere unknown, a brass eye briefly clashed with a black curtain—then separated.
At the sa ti, the terrifying aura brewing over the suitcase in Stone Inn abruptly ceased and slowly subsided, letting the Mandated Punisher watching it breathe in relief.
The pressure just now had nearly made him wet himself.
(End of this Chapter)
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