The mont Yamada Machiichi was dragged into the World Ga was a strange one.
As ti paused at that very mont, many of the players dragged into the ga found themselves in peculiar states.
So were just drifting into dreamland, others just collided head-on with a car, or were just laid on an operating table, awaiting an unknown destiny...
Yamada Machiichi, however, had just swallowed a bottle of sleeping pills.
His life was once a dead loop, everything was gray—the gray people, the gray trees, the gray houses, the gray of everything... He was once a regular student from Fusang, yet not quite like the average person. His head would heat up during evening self-study, feeling like he was doing his howork but constantly wanting to flip the desk. He often wanted to hit soone, or jab a pen into the eyes of a rival in love, or suddenly throw soone into a cent mixer...
But when he returned to his dorm, he would often feel regret, telling himself that he couldn’t keep thinking this way tomorrow.
The nights were often peaceful, the blanket wrapped him securely, the nights beneath the blanket were once his only sanctuary. Hidden under the blanket, it was like escaping from the whole world. He would close his eyelids, as if traveling to Utopia.
And the next day would be the sa. The sky was white, the clouds blue, the world gray.
He suffered from depression,
Severe depression.
A big boy who liked dressing in won’s clothes, soone ant to be tough, yet he lived timidly.
He had so many things he couldn’t express, he dared not let anyone discover his thoughts, he avoided his parents’ disappointed faces, and every day he swung back and forth, his emotions and reason heading completely opposite directions.
Morning rises, and upon seeing the river by the road, he thought about plunging in for no reason.
His pain seeped through the tranquil nights, and so one night he chose to end his life.
"I once wavered between life and death, and every ti I thought about ending it all, I rembered how rich and colorful this world is... why leave it," whispered Yamada Machiichi as he stared at the bowtie in his hand: "So I have been struggling to survive in such contradictions, living like this for a year... until I couldn’t take it anymore."
"Number One Player," he said, fixing his gaze on Su Ming’an, his eyes still dull and lifeless, "We people from Fusang are always conflicted, and I am unable to control this contradiction, that’s why I am in such pain. But you seem to be in control of yourself at all tis, I am very curious how you manage it."
Yamada Machiichi was always silent.
Whether as a boy or as a girl, he was as silent as dust in the corner, barely noticeable. He once thought that was just the type of gray character he was, so much so that he gradually got used to it.
But after he arrived here, his thoughts had changed.
The person in front of him was the focus of the entire world. The Number One Player was the center of the stage, the being in the most light, constantly the core of everyone’s attention.
... And so Yamada felt very strange.
How could soone withstand the gaze of so many, to reach this stage?
So he removed his bowtie, revealing his secret before the world.
Was cross-dressing a strange habit? He didn’t know, maybe it was in the eyes of adults. But such an insignificant him could actually compete on the sa stage as the world’s strongest player, he didn’t want to remain silent anymore.
"Did you co to discuss this with ?" Su Ming’an was quite surprised, those who approached him before were either fawning or brimming with hostility. This was the first ti soone had co up to him in peace, wanting to "debate" with him.
Perhaps, because both sides realized that the ga was over.
There was no surprise whatsoever.
"I’ve seen your videos, ones like mine, of suicide." Yamada Machiichi spoke softly, "I know that feeling... as if molten iron and liquid nitrogen have been poured into my stomach, my guts torn by soone. I gasped for air, to no avail—the feeling of despair was so clear, so painfully clear that it only plunged deeper into despair, and then I resigned myself to it."
He suddenly lifted his head, his sowhat feminized face under the makeup revealing a pair of lifeless eyes that suddenly glead, "...But you, back then, didn’t seem to think the sa, right?"
The hopeful, fervent eyes of the Number One Player back on the First Guild’s stage.
In an instant, they seared into Yamada Machiichi’s eyes, still watching the livestream from outside the arena.
He had always wanted to get close to Su Ming’an, like approaching a sun that radiates light and heat, but he was not like Lv Shu, who aspired to be a fearless Light Pursuer.
He knew he was lowly and cowardly, but he wanted to seek his "path."
The term "path," in reality, is profound and mysterious, and even ntioning it might be t with laughter.
But he felt that the man before him would definitely not laugh at him.
Su Ming’an indeed did not laugh; he was silent.
Yamada Machiichi was filled with hope, and then he received his answer.
"That depends on the reason you didn’t choose to continue living," said Su Ming’an. "Death is a simple matter, and if you choose death only as an escape, then I suppose I need not answer you."
Yamada Machiichi’s body was shaking.
In Fusang culture, the weight of suicide is significant. Those like the Forty-Seven Ronin view suicide as the highest honor, fulfilling both their obligations and moral righteousness.
And what about him? His choice to commit suicide, how was it any different from those he looked down upon? It was the sa cowardice.
Even if he had lived, standing before the whole world, it was only because the sudden beginning of the World Ga had given him a push, not because his will to live was particularly strong.
Once, the character for "death" hung before his eyes twenty-four hours a day; now, all he saw before him was this silent person looking at him.
"...I understand," said Yamada Machiichi, holding the samurai sword with the hilt turned.
Su Ming’an drew the Sword of Yarman, and then he saw the other man offering the hilt of his sword to him.
"I’m troubling you," said Yamada Machiichi.
Su Ming’an took the hilt of the sword in his hand.
Perhaps because the situation was settled, Yamada Machiichi didn’t show much intention of resisting; he even handed his long sword over to himself.
But there was still a glimr of hope. By finding a way to kill Su Ming’an, then managing to survive another day, or by killing Lv Shu, he could still erge victorious.
But Su Ming’an saw it—the man before him seed to take winning and losing lightly.
Yet, Yamada didn’t choose to commit suicide in so corner but instead passed the hilt of the sword to Su Ming’an.
"What do you want?" asked Su Ming’an.
By killing Yamada, his skill would upgrade, and he felt that Yamada Machiichi’s lack of resistance might be because he wanted to make a deal with him.
"I want to offer my thanks," replied Yamada Machiichi, very straightforwardly.
For him, perhaps this death would have much more aning than any before.
His masculine voice erged from his Lolita outfit, crisp and clear.
Su Ming’an asked no more questions. Each person has their own thoughts and beliefs. He gripped the hilt and thrust the sword directly into a vital spot, swiftly and decisively.
Yamada Machiichi fell, his glowing Lolita dress shimring in the night. He closed his eyes, like a sleeping young girl.
[Core Skill has been upgraded.]
[You have killed Yamada Machiichi, Exp 5000]
Su Ming’an allocated the points to the Shadow State, gaining a new resistance:
[Spatial Resistance lv.4: You can be immune to any spatial confinent skills from creatures with Intelligence Points less than 15*4% below yours.]
He stared at the 60% figure and suddenly realized that if the Skill Points of Shadow were added, his resistances might beco quite strong.
The current Intelligence Points of Shadow were 94; with the conversion of the Aurora Ring, it was 132. Sixty percent of that was 79.2, and there were very few players with Intelligence Points higher than this at the current stage.
This ans that, when taking into account other resistance counters, my shadow is basically immune to these debuff class control skills at this stage.
If Edward and the others use similar space confinent props again, they will also be ineffective against .
Su Ming’an considered the direction of future developnts for a while, and then heard a prompt from the system.
"Ding dong!"
[All werewolf players have died, the good camp has achieved final victory.]
[Detecting player identity...]
The next mont, he felt his figure gradually fading away.
In front of him, the quiet Terrily Town in the night, the burnt black temple, the mayor’s house with the small garden, the square with the gallows removed in the distance... all of it was gradually receding from him.
The ga was over.
He suddenly heard soone sighing in his ear, a woman’s voice; he tilted his head slightly and saw a woman cloaked in shimring purple veils, cradling a crystal ball, her moonlit eyes filled with tranquility, watching him.
"Thank you, traveler from the outside world," she bowed, "Thank you for securing the final victory for our Terrily camp—may the deity bless you."
"Anlienna," Su Ming’an called out the na of his guide.
A gentle smile graced her face, and as she smiled, it seed to brew a sky full of stars.
[Traveler Number One, your identity is, Prophet.]
[—Congratulations on achieving final victory in this summit showdown!]
...
The next mont, Su Ming’an felt a blinding white light in front of him.
He closed his eyes and, before opening them, heard that familiar, annoying voice:
"Woo-hoo—! Welco our dear twelve contestants, welco back to the official return!"
When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was an expanse of boundless clouds... and a large bunny floating towards him.
It still had the sa look, with the scales on its chest twisted and its blood-red eyes giving off an extrely uncomfortable and nauseating feeling.
He noticed that he seed to be on a large platform in the sky, standing on a transparent platform, below which he could see the endless sea of clouds.
He saw many people standing beside him, and upon a glance, he indeed saw the other eleven participating players, two or three of whom were staring at him with full of hatred, just like Yamada Machiichi, there were also players with no discernible emotion.
"World’s peak contestants, your performances in this match have been quite extraordinary! Of course, with the ga over, it’s the most wonderful ti for rewards—welco our twelve beloved players, to the highest award ceremony—!" Boss Bunny still called out cheerfully, apparently happy at every mont.
Su Ming’an noticed that the popularity of the live broadcast had undergone major changes; he realized that the restrictions on the live broadcast room might have been lifted, allowing players to freely shuttle between various live broadcast rooms, no longer confined to the sa person’s broadcast—because there was no longer a need for secrecy of identity.
This ga, the world’s top twelve player summit competition, was finally over.
He had achieved double perfect completion for both camp and mission.
He exhaled a breath of relief, feeling a rare sense of relaxation, and finally diverted a bit of his attention to look at the barrage, the content of which was just as he imagined:
[Number One Player, the best in the world—!]
[Ming’an, God forever—]
[God forever 1]
[God forever 2]
[...]
[ 10086]
[Trash Edward, are his fans still mocking, still mocking?]
[Edward’s old combat power was too high but brain too simple, this car crash is really tragic.]
[What’s the use of hyping soone up so much, Number One Player was right, not everything can be manufactured by capitalists! Fakes will always be fakes.]
[...Am I the only one who cares about the ending of the town’s story?]
[Su Ming’an was as if he had opened his third eye, truly controlling the entire ga woc...]
[Forum analysts have already started, no blabbering, I’m off.]
[How’s that girl from Su’s style, haven’t heard any news about her...]
[...]
Su Ming’an could probably guess what the world forum looked like now; the more fiercely Edward and his crew had jumped before, the more pathetic they likely crashed now.
No matter how much effort Edron and his people had previously spent to manipulate public opinion, betting on this world competition, they had indeed lost. People only see who is first, they don’t see why those beneath the first failed.
True strength, more important than anything.
Public opinion isn’t brainwashing, people can see the outco.
That’s why he had never been in a hurry to deal with those spectators.
The barrage was filled with joy and happiness, celebrating the countless who had betted and won points. Next were blessings, all kinds of cheesy congratulatory words seed to have been written in advance, now smoothly sent out. Then, there was a wave of trampling and praising, with the comnters standing high, condemning players like Edward, Mizushima Haru, and Lin Jiang, who had once shown hostility. Finally, there were miscellaneous talks, discussing topics like "Boss Rabbit is getting uglier and uglier" "Can’t believe there’s an award ceremony" "What’s really up with Su’s sister?"
"I—I’m going to kill you!"
He suddenly heard a shout laden with imnse anger, and turning his head, he saw Mizushima Haru, her face incensed as if she was about to pounce.
...Right, this woman seed to care a lot about her sister and had talked about seeking revenge.
Too bad she wasn’t skilled enough.
Su Ming’an watched her without moving. Then he slightly shifted his gaze towards Boss Rabbit and t those red, beady eyes.
"Stop—stop it for !"
A burst of red light fell suddenly, instantly immobilizing the furiously charging Mizushima Haru.
Boss Rabbit hopped in front of the twelve, spreading its plump hands: "It’s awarding ti now, no fighting, no brawling——Especially, don’t lay a hand on our dear Number One Player!"
Its words made Su Ming’an pause for a mont.
"Su Ming’an, you traitor to humanity! The organizers are so protective of you, don’t think I can’t see it! You dare to harm Lady Sister, I will definitely, definitely kill you..."
Mizushima Haru’s shrill voice was still ringing, but it was quickly interrupted by a calm female voice.
"Enough." Mizushima Kawa Sora closed her eyes: "Su Ming’an is not a traitor; we lost this round."
"Sis, Sister?" Mizushima Haru stopped speaking, her eyes wide open, sowhat in disbelief.
"Su Ming’an... I apologize for having accused you before." Mizushima Kawa Sora’s voice was calm:
...
"——Many people want to talk to you, let’s chat after the award ceremony is over."
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