Lin Yin lit the lamp.
An orange-red Kongming lantern rose in her hand.
Many people stood beside her, including adventurer players, casual players just entering the instance, and native Luowasha people...
One, hundreds, tens of thousands... various containers rose into the sky.
As far as the eye could see, every container was filled with many strawberry crisps.
"...There’s a reproduction array set in the container. When the air temperature is high enough, the array will automatically activate, and then, like the mont corn kernels pop into popcorn... pop! The strawberry crisps will replicate in large amounts, scattering from the sky like fireworks..." Cynthia bit the eraser of her pencil, calculating the angle of explosion with her notebook:
"This way, even people who can’t draw or cook might catch a strawberry crisp!"
Steel machines roared and rumbled, the assembly line churned out various containers incessantly, and thousands of creators simultaneously wielded their pens, as luscious and enticing strawberry crisps gradually took shape.
"I love this world! It’s so beautiful, so beautiful!" Several young players ran here and there, faces glowing with excitent.
"Master Lin Yin." Sherry hung up the communicator and reported excitedly: "News ca from the Tower of Babel, the Seat of Greece, the Nalan Court, and All Living Beings United that they are following our example... Perhaps the entire world will witness this scene!"
"I know." Lin Yin’s lips curved into a smile: "I’ve already seen it. Look."
People looked into the distance.
One by one the containers, like birds with wings, white, red, orange... soared into the sky.
Regardless of whether inside or outside the city, near or far. They floated upward like Kongming lanterns released with hope.
— Do you think strawberry crisps can fly to the sky?
The Lord of the Dead Xi Ting gazed at this scene, reaching out a bony hand that rustled and rattled.
In the past, her mother would tell her stories from the genesis period, where it was said the beginning of the creation era was marked by the first strawberry crisp drifting skyward. Now, once again, strawberry crisps flew into the sky and entered every household.
She watched the countless floating containers, as if seeing the rising lights of ten thousand hos.
...
"Swish!"
Even Su Ming’an did not expect the process of subduing the World Master to be surprisingly easy.
The force of a second-level god dominated over all plots and sches.
When he pressed his sword against the World Master’s throat, he saw a pair of bewilderingly familiar eyes... eyes that resembled Sique’s.
Too similar.
Even though the character has always been trying to escape the shadow of the creators, they can never deny their shared shadow.
Su Wenjun fell to the ground, his pupils reflected the raging flas, his coughs and gasps covered with blood.
The silver mask fell to the ground. He shuddered violently, seemingly very afraid of exposing his face, and reached for the silver mask.
"Swish!"
Blood sprayed out.
Su Ming’an severed his hand.
"I don’t quite understand." Su Ming’an’s sword tip lowered: "We cooperated well, I acknowledged you as my ally. You desire power, and it’s not unobtainable. Why turn against ? What displeases you about ?"
One after another, it was the sa. Noel as well, the World Master as well.
The World Master, with his remaining intact hand, covered his face, unwilling to reveal it, uttering an unexpected statent:
"... Because you’ve been well trained by ’perfect’, Su Ming’an."
Su Ming’an’s eyes widened slightly.
The World Master spoke intermittently:
"Perfect pass, the perfect world TE ending, the perfect Book of the Universe... you are ruled by the word ’perfect’."
"You asure everything by the world ga’s standards, believing that a certain specific ending is ’perfect’, but have you ever considered, just going along with the world ga’s appetite... is it right? When did you ’players’ beco reverse-trained by the world ga?"
"The perfect ending of the Ruined World is to drive away Ta Wei, but even with such an ending, there are still many who died in war, those who fell into misfortune, and situations that have never changed... To them, such a perfect ending is no better than so bad endings in your eyes. The solidification of this kind of ending represents the solidification of so people’s death, which can never be saved again."
"The universe I admire is vast and unknown. Everything is chaotic, unfettered, full of possibilities. You don’t know when Halley’s Cot will fall; you don’t know at what angle a black hole will form; how much laughter there is deep in the blue-purple nebula of trillions of stars; nor do you know how many intelligent life beings, of countless scales, sing loudly in this dark universe... You don’t know life, you don’t know death, you don’t know if there is any fate in this world. You can create, you can destroy, you can succeed, or you can fail—because you know that nothing is set! Everything is handmade by the subjective initiative of life!"
"What if the perfect Book of the Universe forms? In endless ages, in nurous Panggala Returns, everything becos fixed. No creativity, no possibilities, no new future... Is such a universe really the ’perfect’ universe, or is it a universe like dead water?"
"I... do not want such a future to happen. I refuse to be soone who always adheres to the sa setting. I reject such... ’perfection’."
"Imperfection is also a form of beauty, and we have forgotten it for too long..."
The World Master’s words halted Su Ming’an’s steps.
Perfect, indeed, also ans fixed.
Ordering every piece of mory Clips neatly and perfectly also signifies no other possibilities.
Just like a book, when it’s being created, it’s full of creativity and possibility, but the mont it ends, no matter how perfect its content, it ans no new creativity will be born.
Content becos fixed, everything becos fixed.
"I’m not like you, you want to protect too much. So to you, a ’perfect’ ending is already the best you can do. You don’t care if the universe is free or not, nor do you care if there’s a new future, because just protecting everyone has already exhausted you." The World Master slowly said:
"But I am different from you."
"I was born in a desolate land with nothing, like a beast that survives by tearing and devouring the flesh of its enemies. A beast can pay any price for freedom. I have very little, so I do not care about perfection."
"I only care about..."
He slowly removed his hand, revealing his deeply loathed face:
"I only care about not allowing any invisible hands to control us."
His will had never changed.
To want power, influence, a sword, to rise high and be unreachable—all were for one word, "freedom."
He desires a destiny uncontrolled by anyone.
To be called Su Wenjun.
He cannot accept the supre will, cannot accept the protagonist’s desire for perfection—
So he wants to destroy.
Destroy it all.
Return everything to chaos, whether by triggering Death Rebound, triggering a Luowasha Reset, triggering a World Ga Reset, or triggering a universal Panggala Return... Let the story on the brink of the abyss start anew. As long as he keeps pushing for a restart, continuously flipping open the book, the story never ends.
As long as the story doesn’t end, the character remains forever free.
He wanted to refuse the end.
"I’ve been searching for a good enough way to persuade you... But in the end, I found that you are still willing to succumb to ’perfection.’" Su Wenjun’s golden eyes gazed at Su Ming’an, his tone containing a hint of pleading:
"Can you... not end our ’story’?"
Su Ming’an was stunned for a mont.
"Just now, as you hesitated whether to divide and conquer yourself, I almost felt the arrival of doom." Su Wenjun said: "I felt the Book of the Universe would form in your palm at any mont."
"You think too highly of ..." Su Ming’an said. Clearly, the Positional Rank of the Supre Lord, the Master of the End of All Things, and others were above him.
"I am not mistaken." Su Wenjun said: "I even feel... that the mont of doom is very near. You will be the most direct ender."
Flas blazed fiercely.
The charred books made a sound like the wind rustling through dry branches.
Su Ming’an still remained unmoved.
Beauty and freedom, in essence, cannot be both attained. He believed the World Master’s idea wasn’t significantly wrong, but he chose the forr.
Staring into Su Ming’an’s clear eyes, the hope in the World Master’s eyes faded bit by bit.
"I hate you." The World Master said.
Su Ming’an turned his sword.
"I hate you for having everything and discarding it like worn-out shoes, hate your composure, hate you for arbitrarily deciding my birth, and arbitrarily giving a face. I hate you for controlling my life, and I hate that I beca the sa kind of person." The World Master murmured, seemingly speaking to Su Ming’an and also to soone else:
"I hate you... Olivius."
"Hate you for making so clear-headed, and hate that I can change nothing."
Since knowing long ago that I’m an incorrigible villain, why still don a noble mask?
Since knowing long ago that I’m no different from a sewer rat, why lean on the statue of a deity?
Since knowing long ago that mud and sewage are ant for , why taste the grapes peeled by others?
Everything is mine.
Nothing is mine.
So clear-headed, clear-headed enough to know the mysteries of the universe, to know the existence of retrospection, hence bearing the fate of countless attempts with no escape—freedom.
And at the beginning, the protagonist who chased perfection stood opposite him.
Does he not know that even if he successfully rushes into the World Tree, the probability of burning these books is extrely low? Of course, he knows that from the outset, this is an impossible destruction.
He simply seeks benevolence and gets benevolence, seeks death and gets death. Since inevitably unable to stop the story’s end, he makes himself the last footnote, to die before the conclusion solidifies.
What kind of heart can a beast, crawling and growing out of the wilderness, possess?
Eat carrion raw, thirsty for fresh blood, tear at the enemy, day and night without rest. This is the beast.
"...Is there nothing you want to say to ?" The World Master said.
The fire dwindled ever smaller, and yet he still couldn’t burn all these books.
"I want to say one thing." Su Ming’an said.
The World Master slightly raised his head, his expression sowhat moved, as he hoped Su Ming’an could grasp his will.
"...You shouldn’t have killed Qi Zhou." Su Ming’an said.
That was all he had to say.
Su Wenjun slowly raised his hand, covering his face, with "hissing" and hoarse laughter seeping from his throat. His head full of purple hair blew wildly, with its ends stained by sparks, like a haunting violet, laughing almost with trembling fiercely.
The "perfect" protagonist, indeed he only cared about these things.
"Is it possible." Su Wenjun’s voice was very light, very light: "That even if you’ve witnessed his death, he can still be reborn in a new world. And I killed him to secure a fact to stay alive."
Su Wenjun suddenly reached out his hand.
Su Ming’an imdiately retreated vigilantly, swung his sword, piercing Su Wenjun’s chest with a slash.
Warm blood flowed along the blade. Su Wenjun’s eyes bled, gritting his teeth tightly, still reaching out.
He drew out a book and a pen from his bosom, flipped to the last page, slamming it into Su Ming’an’s bosom with a "pop."
Su Ming’an looked down to see the book filled with dense words, most of them Su Wenjun’s life records, and at the bottom, a line of small words:
...
[Inside the World Tree, flas flutter fiercely.]
[Su Ming’an killed Su Wenjun and crushed Su Wenjun’s soul.]
[From now on, there will be no more Su Wenjun in this world.]
...
The last two lines shimred with golden light.
As the Creator, the World Master’s Word Spirit wasn’t used for desperate counterattack, nor for gold and jewels, but... to confirm his own demise.
—From now on, there will be no more Su Wenjun in this world.
How utterly hopeless and heartbroken must one be to write such a Word Spirit.
The fact he wanted to secure is exactly this.
In the possible upcoming cycles, please do not let him appear again.
"I once told myself countless tis." Blood flowed from the corner of Su Wenjun’s mouth: "As long as... I hear a plea for help from a life, see soone love again... I will stop, no longer obsessed with destruction, but satisfying their yearning for perfection over freedom. After all, they yearn for a stable life more than freedom, and there is nothing wrong with that..."
"But, but..."
"My idea... has not been realized..."
"In childhood, for a bun, a beggar broke my legs... the bun was bitten away by a dog during the scramble, others found it inauspicious, I crawled on the ground dragging my legs, tussled with the dog, finally snatched the bun..."
"When I was older, I cooked a bowl of longevity noodles for my kind adoptive mother, turned around to co back, the house collapsed, and the corner-cutting contractor had long run away... I couldn’t afford a grave, the cheapest grave was more expensive than a living person..."
"Older still, I was flogged forty tis to redress a grievance for a friend. Went to redeem him in the cell, found he had starved to death long ago..."
"And, those who secretly passed cheating notes to ... those in the army who set foot for , took my rits... those who approached with ill intent, wanting to take my organs..."
He took a deep breath, lifting the corners of his lips:
"Very few, yet very many."
"Very beautiful, yet very ugly."
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