Chapter 260 - BE10: The Fall (reader 20210319, Alliance Hierarch additional 5/5)

Chapter 260: Chapter 257: BE10: The Fall (reader 20210319, Alliance Hierarch additional 5/5)"People simply become accustomed to not thinking and turn into blind followers."

"When an entire group strives in one direction, those who turn around or walk away become the outliers."

"They seek the tiniest space for survival like a dead sprout reaching downward, like fish in stagnant water gasping for the last bit of air."

"They crave order, correct others, heal themselves, rectify rebellion, eradicate ignorance, yet they linger willingly, reject metamorphosis, thirst for rationality, but are prone to madness."

"—Ultimately, they forge their dreamed-of paradise into an endless hell."

"In this era, hidden from the light, someone willfully sinks into the stuporous rain."

Su Ming’an waded through the heavy rain.

The drumming of the rain poured into his ears, the water in the puddles overflowing past his calves.

By the tree, a young man lay as if sunk into a deep sleep, leaning against the trunk, his eyelids closed, embracing a great sword as if he too were deep in slumber, his expression serene.

Su Ming’an withdrew his gaze.

Heavy rain soaked his shoulders, slowly solidifying with his movements.

Crystalline ripples shone around him.

He watched Mizushima Haru, his eyes as still as dead water.

"—I, I reject your invitation!" Mizushima Haru immediately spoke out.

Having observed Su Ming’an all along, she naturally noticed his High Tower Invitation skill. She knew that by rejecting, the invitation would be ineffective on her, nor would it create a barrier isolating her from the outside world.

Su Ming’an remained expressionless.

The deep blue glow of his skill shone in his equipment slot.

Special Skill "High Tower Invitation": You can select a player or NPC and verbally invite them. If the invitee agrees (any verbal or physical acknowledgment counted as "agreement"), you will initiate a three-minute, interference-free, one-on-one duel.

Special Skill "Tower Confrontation" (unlocked): When selecting a player or NPC, no consent is needed.

The next moment, a transparent barrier erupted from the ground, entirely enveloping the scene.

Mizushima Haru was momentarily dazed.

...I clearly refused, what is this...

"Boom—!"

The next moment, a violent vibration surrounded her.

It was as if countless hands were pulling at her body, forcefully shattering the raindrops around her.

The immense force tearing at her from all directions nearly ripped her frail body apart.

"HP-1248! (Critical hit! Combat power suppression! Mentality suppression! Victim damage immunity!)"

"Hiss..."

Her expression was instantly one of pain, undulating ripples flowed all over her body.

Her chest felt like it was boiling; she bled not, yet felt all her bones might shatter.

...If not for the "Victim" special status’s damage immunity boost, that hit could have been lethal.

Despite her agony, she gritted her teeth and immediately extended her hand, a golden glow flaring up like starlight.

"You activated the (Victim) active skill: Invincible Light Shield (usable once per instance, lasts ten seconds, no initiations of attack allowed during this period.)"

As soon as the light shield appeared, the pressure greatly reduced, and she immediately spoke out, "—Su Ming’an! Do you no longer care about Dong Xue’s safety?? Don’t forget, her life is still in my hands!"

Su Ming’an did not turn around, his gaze calm.

He knew exactly the situation with Dong Xue behind him.

But he couldn’t save her.

Even now, with the High Tower Invitation’s barrier rising and cutting off Mizushima Haru’s connection to the Ruby Pendant, he couldn’t save her.

Mizushima Haru had been infiltrating this place for many years, always ensuring thoroughness in her actions. Once the pendant’s red light lit up, there would be no chance for reversal. She was not the clichéd villain in stories who crazily offers opportunities to test one’s resolve at such moments; her aim was merely to make him fail and go insane here.

Therefore, no matter what he did now, he couldn’t prevent Dong Xue’s death.

Mizushima Haru’s words were merely meant to give him a final bit of despair, to make him believe there might still be hope for Dong Xue.

This torment, offering hope only to plunge one into deeper despair, was a tactic he had seen all too often.

"The pendant is set to explode." Su Ming’an spoke, his tone utterly calm, "Even if I kill you right now, Dong Xue will still die."

Mizushima Haru’s face showed a trace of a smile.

Her hand involuntarily drooped down, and her wrist felt out of control—this was from the damage left by the earlier spatial vibration.

But her smile remained, growing even wider. "...You’re quite smart."

She spoke somewhat regretfully: "...I was planning to have you kneel before the whole world and beg me—just as I had experienced in the Fifth World."

"You could have had the chance not to kneel." Su Ming’an said.

If at that time, Mizushima Haru had communicated with him as an equal, properly negotiating an exchange of interests, instead of immediately kneeling down and weeping for mercy, offering herself, he wouldn’t have needed to go that far.

...Some people cannot be pulled back.

They had grown accustomed to surviving on the edge of a cliff, which had become their comfort zone.

He had no intention of reasoning with Mizushima Haru.

Although Mizushima Haru was foolish, she was not blind to the situation; she must have understood the significance of his position to humanity.

Yet she chose to attack him anyway.

Therefore, he could infer that this behavior was likely related to her personal interests... to her special identity.

It was precisely because of this self-interest, which in her eyes outweighed the future of all humanity, that she would unhesitatingly strike at him, enduring immense public pressure.

According to the words in the damage log, "Casualty," that must be the special identity currently held by Mizushima Haru—a half-NPC, half-player identity. Possibly her mission was something like—kill him, and she could fully regain her player identity, or obtain some extremely precious hidden reward.

Therefore, persuasion was pointless.

Leaderboards, special identities, various guild organizations... Humanity in such a world was restrained, divided, graded, transformed into isolated islands.

A seven percent selection probability left them unable to find their former comrades, forcing them to start anew with mutual distrust.

In such an isolated world, people fought for themselves, unable to disclose the full truth.

They were powerless against the organizers.

Thus, those unwilling to be lonely, would habitually limit their attention to their immediate surroundings.

...Su Ming’an had anticipated Mizushima Haru’s choice.

The torrential rain was blocked outside by the barrier invited by the high tower.

Inside the dry barrier, everything seemed very quiet.

"Su Ming’an, don’t you have anything to say?"

Under the dome of the golden shield, Mizushima Haru suddenly spoke.

Su Ming’an somewhat sluggishly lifted his head.

"...I won this time," said Mizushima Haru.

She indeed had won.

Even if the invincible light shield would disappear in less than ten seconds and she would be killed, Dong Xue’s pendant had been timely set by her to detonate if forcefully removed, or it would explode in less than two minutes as well.

By then, even if she died, as long as Dong Xue was dead, her mission would be completed.

She would thus earn the chance for a reward... an evolution.

She recalled the mission’s rewards and conditions, felt time ticking away second by second, and even found joy in the bleak rainy view outside.

Suddenly, she heard a gradually sinking voice from the opposite side.

"...You’ve won," Su Ming’an looked at her, "Humanity has lost."

"...?" Mizushima Haru was slightly stunned.

...What nonsense?

"What do you mean lost, how, do you think you can represent humanity?" She retorted sarcastically but suddenly caught his gaze.

She couldn’t describe the eyes she saw at that moment.

Like seawater flooding her senses, through somewhat blurred vision, she saw death in the depths of his eyes, like witnessing the sun setting.

...Like dying in a dream of despair.

Mizushima Haru suddenly felt that things were somewhat beyond her expectations.

Despite his greatly boastful tone, she detected a hint of sorrow, as if he were sighing at her.

He was lifting his eyes, those somewhat confused eyes meeting her gaze.

In his eyes, emotions brewing were shattering.

She looked back motionlessly, her fingers trembling slightly, as if something astonishing was slowly slipping away at the tip of her heart.

"What exactly do you want to—" she opened her mouth, about to speak.

The rumbling sound came abruptly at that moment.

Her words abruptly stopped.

The view before her inverted in an instant, and the sensations in her body vanished immediately after a severe pain.

...The moment the invincible light shield disappeared, he struck without hesitation.

Not giving her a chance to speak any further.

Bright red numbers flickered before her darkening vision.

With her eyes torn, her mouth open, she looked at the world gradually fracturing around her... and the sky turning upside down amidst the heavy rain.

Familiar darkness enveloped her once again, like a swallow returning to its nest.

Su Ming’an withdrew his hand.

The invitation’s isolation shield slowly descended, the halo scattering like shattered glass.

He stood amid the fractured glow, turning around.

...Mizushima Haru had calculated everything.

She had lain in wait for so many years, figuring out how to get Dong Xue to wear the ruby pendant, making a move afterward.

In such a world, Mizushima Haru disguised herself as a harmless little girl, waiting for him to come to her.

She did not go mad during the cruel electrocutions, nor did she die from the persecution of White Sand teachers. After his arrival, she even made him unaware of Shadow’s unconsciousness, seizing the best opportunity in practice to accomplish this extent.

Her vision was indeed shortsighted, only seeing personal gains, unable to consider too much. He indeed could not be trusted, could not be the target of her hopes.

...But it was undeniable that she was an extremely outstanding Tasker—her objective had succeeded.

The gemstone necklace kept flashing; his san value was steadily dropping.

Uncontrollable, unavoidable.

She was using every means to drive him insane.

His gaze fell.

On the ground lay the black-haired girl, clutching the gemstone pendant with one hand, tears in her eyes.

"...Yang Xia." She softly called out.

"Su Ming’an." Su Ming’an corrected.

"...Okay." Dong Xue struggled to stand, stretching out her hand, as if she wanted to grasp his hand. "...Su Ming’an."

Su Ming’an crouched down.

Rain slowly dripped down his black hair, his face still expressionless.

"...No matter who you are." Dong Xue’s hand slowly, slowly touched his cheek, wiping the rain off his face with difficulty as she spoke: "...thank you, thank you for coming to save me."

Her fingers were very cold, the rainwater was also very cold, brushing past his cheek as new rainwater adhered again, a chill from her hand seeping almost into his bones.

"...Sorry." Dong Xue sobbed, "...the rain is too heavy."

Su Ming’an raised his head.

Rain streamed down his cheeks, some falling into his eyes, blurring his blood-red vision at this moment.

The status bar in the upper left corner had already started to alarm, Shadow State with weak physique, continuing like this, he would risk a shock debuff.

In his vision, a chaotic barrage covered everything, he closed his eyes, lowered his head, looking at the ruby pendant flickering like a flame on Dong Xue’s neck.

"Can it still be removed?" he asked.

Dong Xue showed a tragic smile.

She withdrew her hand, holding the ruby, and shook her head with difficulty.

"...Don’t be afraid." she said. "I have already come to my senses, even if, I die here, White Sand Paradise will not be reset, although it’s not a perfect ending, but I have already... walked out."

"..." Su Ming’an closed his eyes.

"But why," she looked at him, her eyes clear and glass-like: "...do I feel that you have not walked out yet?"

Su Ming’an said nothing.

"...Has a part of you, like me, completely died here too?" she asked, her tone as innocent as a child’s.

At her neck, the bright red pendant flickered like a flame.

Life countdown, the last thirty seconds.

Rain pattered down on her body, the surrounding world gradually becoming unclear.

In a daze, Dong Xue suddenly reached out her hand.

Just like before in the cave, she hugged him tightly.

"...Don’t be scared," she said.

However, unlike before, this hug contained no humility, no hint of pleading.

She was simply holding him.

The hug was not tight, not forceful, devoid of any stickiness.

Like a comforting embrace between little friends.

"I always used to think...me, born with the wrong gender identity, living such a hard life, what meaning does my life have." Dong Xue gently said, her words feather-light, as if whispering a lullaby before sleep: "...abnormal, not accepted, not fit to play with my peers, unable to live a normal life...I seemed like I should have been sent for treatment, correction, like I was something that shouldn’t exist."

In the heavy curtain of rain, her voice was as light as a feather:

"...But later, I gradually discovered, even someone as untalented and useless as me, TA coming into this world, always leaves a trace."

"I like Yang Xia, like everything about her, like how she whispers stories to me, like how she tenderly comforts me, even the sentences she urges me to grow with I find touching."

"...Even though I am her creation."

"...Even though I still shouldn’t exist."

"But ah," her voice close to him, tone extremely gentle: "some things don’t exist just ."

"Seeing you just now, I suddenly understood all those things you had said to me before."

"," she said. "—they want to deny that, deny everything I did for Yang Xia... but they know almost nothing about the feelings between us."

"Even if such actions were wrong?" Su Ming’an suddenly spoke.

"Even if such actions were wrong," Dong Xue affirmed.

"..." He closed his eyes, "In the end, I was comforted by you, huh."

"In the end?" Dong Xue looked slightly puzzled.

"Thank you," he said.

Dong Xue listened to his thanks and smiled.

Her black hair clung to her cheeks, and the ruby pendant glowing on her chest looked extremely beautiful amidst the darkness.

In her eyes, which always carried an insoluble frost, seemed to instinctively conceal her emotions entirely, never easily revealing them due to the words of others.

But at that moment, she just looked at him, saying nothing, her expression more open than ever before.

"Su Ming’an," she suddenly called his name.

"Mmm."

"Thank you for everything you did... for me and Yang Xia."

"... Mmm."

"... I don’t need to grow up anymore," she said, her eyes clear and bright.

Red light danced in her eyes.

The halo softened, gently intertwining on her face, like a caress of flame.

The gemstone began to crack.

Suddenly she reached out, pushing him away.

As she looked over, her eyelids fluttered for a moment, like a flowing sky full of stars.

"... I have lived this life," she said. "... I have strived to live this life."

Su Ming’an sat down abruptly in the rain puddle, not getting up.

Vivid hallucinations filled his vision; he gasped for air, his gaze fixed on the smiling girl.

"I had a future. I... left ."

She smiled at him.

The firelight flickered.

In the dark curtain of rain, that sudden intense burst of light shone like a newly bright star—

"Bang—!"

As if caught in a thick rhythm, he saw blood explode before his eyes.

The brilliance shattered, scattering flickers of light like the waves beneath a crystalline sea.

Blood-red, glass-like fragments, shining like the sunset, sparkled before his eyes.

The darkness gradually faded away.

The clear sound of raindrops, pitter-pattering, mixed with the blood from the girl’s blood-stained cheeks fell, dripping onto the ice-cold ground.

The raindrops on her finally hit the ground.

Through rumours and gossip, enduring the scorching heat and bitter cold.

The blood-red rain slowly drifted down, blood and rainwater flowing together.

Su Ming’an withdrew his gaze, turning around with some delay.

He was walking towards a tree.

Under the tree, a young man lay as if asleep, his head drooping, arms clutching a blood-stained great sword.

As he neared, the young man’s eyelashes suddenly flicked water droplets away, then, a ray of light burst forth from his eyes.

The young man’s complexion was pale, but his eyes were clear and bright.

He coughed as if suddenly awakened and then said, "... Big brother."

Su Ming’an’s solemn expression suddenly became animated for an instant.

"You, you didn’t die?" Even though he had mentally prepared himself when he saw the number of survivors, his voice was still almost hoarse when he spoke.

"...No, almost... cough, cough cough cough..." Mo Yan replied weakly, and then began coughing up blood.

Bright red blood slid down his chin, mingling with the large patches of blood on his chest.

"Mizushima Haru, that girl... damn, I won’t call her a great goddess anymore, what a trick... It’s one thing to attack me secretly, but to strike at big brother too... cough, cough cough cough—"

He managed a few curses before being forced to stop, coughing up blood violently, splattering large amounts of blood on himself like a spreading blood-stained map.

"Drink this." Su Ming’an immediately took out a Mid Level Blood Bottle.

The Strengthener was ineffective for Mo Yan at this moment; he was too weak, and severe pain would torture him to death.

In front of him, Mo Yan waved his hand.

"It’s no use now... big brother." His voice was hoarse, "Have you heard of the ’Combat Continuation’ skill?"

Su Ming’an fell silent.

’Combat Continuation,’ touted by players as the "drag someone with me even at death’s door" skill, allows a player who has died to still move autonomously for a while, catching any enemy who thought they had delivered a killing blow off guard.

Clearly, Mo Yan was in such a state right now.

... Mo Yan was already dead, his body heading towards inevitable collapse, and him being able to speak now was purely because of the skill’s effect.

His life had truly entered the countdown.

"I understand," Su Ming’an said, "How much longer?"

"Three minutes," Mo Yan said.

Su Ming’an shifted his gaze.

Mo Yan smiled, "It’s okay... it’s really okay, Big Bro, I came here just to experience the thrill of a Third World instance. Dying here, and still being able to meet big brother... I’m actually very happy."

"Do you know, big brother, the first time I saw you, I had this premonition... I might have struck it big."

"I’ve been deceiving myself, always contradicting myself, I thought a god couldn’t be so approachable, big brother could only be big brother, if big brother turned into a god... would I not be able to call you big brother anymore?"

"No," Su Ming’an said, "You can always call me that, even later."

"... yeah, even later," Mo Yan said, "The next instance, the next world, so many worlds later, you can."

"How much longer?" Su Ming’an seemed to have lost the ability to discern time, asking again.

"One minute."

Su Ming’an nodded.

Mo Yan suddenly looked up, "Big brother."

"I’m here."

"Can we team up in the next instance?"

"No."

"... Ah," Mo Yan sighed, "I thought, in such a touching scene, big brother would agree to all my requests."

"Where I am is very dangerous... always has been," Su Ming’an said, "This instance, you were just dragged down by me. It didn’t have to be this difficult."

"... But what does that matter?" Mo Yan said, "Big brother is more ’important’ than me."

He said, and with difficulty raised his hand, lightly tapping in front of him.

"Whoooosh—!"

A bunch of colorful props fell beside his legs.

He pushed them towards Su Ming’an one by one, initiating a gift transfer, and then like a hamster, piled these props and equipment before Su Ming’an.

Then, he stretched out his hands, struggling to lift the sword, which seemed heavy for him at this moment, and placed it in Su Ming’an’s hands.

"... Big brother."

The signature on the sword glistened with raindrops like those of a creek.

"Mizushima Haru doesn’t know anything, she’s not important," he said.

"Don’t go crazy, big brother, calm down."

"... and then win."

The look in Mo Yan’s eyes at that moment was as clear and bright as winter snow.

Moist air filled his lungs and then surged out of his trachea.

Su Ming’an took the sword with a somewhat sad smile:

"... Okay."

"I’ll save you,"

he said.

Mo Yan’s look showed a moment of puzzlement.

But soon, the vitality in them vanished as surely as the sun sets.

He closed his eyes.

Su Ming’an clenched the sword and stood up.

He stood amid the pervasive rain, staring at the twisted and inverted vision in front of him.

It was as if the brightly lit room had suddenly had the lights drawn, a pitch-black color splashed across like paint from a bucket, leaving no white space, so abruptly black. The constantly rolling clouds appeared like boiling ink, making the view extraordinarily eerie and oppressive.

As he took a step forward, his figure suddenly skewed, and he instantly collapsed into a puddle.

In the upper left corner of his vision, a blood-red bar displayed a clear 20, pulsing like an alarm.

In the dense curtain of rain and a dim view,

— he saw a shadowy figure with rabbit ears, ghostly and barely visible.

The live broadcast was suddenly forcefully shut down by the system.

"Cough... cough cough..."

He unexpectedly started to cough.

He reached out, held onto the sword, and slowly propped up his increasingly numb body, dragging it forward with great effort, as if he were dragging a sack.

The temperature was gradually slipping away, and dizziness began to dominate his body.

There seemed to be an invisible force starting to tear at his heart and lungs, wanting to smash his brain.

... Low sanity values were so painful.

The players who were nearly mad, standing on the brink... had also experienced such pain.

Phantom pain tormented his nerves; it seemed that with every step he took, the nerves, muscles, and blood vessels involved were on the verge of rupturing.

It was like a pair of large hands were tightly pulling on the ropes made of his skin and flesh, continuously torturing and twisting them.

He could hear the blood-soaked cries from various corners of his body.

He slowly moved forward, dragging his body toward that shadow.

The figure with rabbit ears silently watched this scene, until he got closer and closer to It.

With a "plop," he let go of his hand and fell into the puddle.

All his strength vanished in a moment; he could barely see anything.

The cold water washed over his ears, and he gasped for air, even beginning to laugh.

... And at that moment It suddenly spoke:

"— Number One Player."

Its voice boomed like thunder, momentarily overpowering the mysterious whispers beside his ears.

He seemed to also hear his own laughter, slight as a breath, so faint he could barely hear it himself.

"— Your wish seems to differ from what you initially promised us," It said.

"Ah, yes," he replied.

As he spoke, a great wave of rainwater filled his mouth, making him abruptly cough violently.

"Cough, cough cough cough... cough cough..."

The sound of his coughing was suppressed by the rain, and he touched his chin, feeling something warm.

The warmth trickled down his palm, carrying a hint of rusty taste and stickiness.

Throughout, the figure with rabbit ears stood still, immovable, like a deity in the sky watching the struggling ants.

And the ant, overwhelmed by the heavy rain, lifted his chin like he was challenging the deity, and extended his hand:

"Then tell me, Boss Rabbit," he said, his smile growing wider: "— Can it be done? I mean, the possibility of ’redeeming Zhai Xing’ — even though I once deceived you."

The sound of rain grew louder.

The pattering was incessant, the cold raindrops striking his face.

He stared with a darkened vision at the spot where Boss Rabbit had stood, his voice resolute like a knife.

It was as if a mortal was igniting the fire of war against the deity.

The figure with rabbit ears remained silent.

It stood still, its form as stable and substantial as a mountain.

Su Ming’an kept his eyes open.

The emotions that had been building up erupted like magma from the cortical folds of his brain and nearly filled his skull.

"... Can it? Answer me, in the name of the organizers—answer me."

He roared almost desperately.

Rainwater flooded his ears and nostrils, and his eyes filled with fine blood vessels.

It watched him.

Like a deity watching over struggling humans, like humans gazing at sheep in the rain.

"...In the name of the organizers, I answer you,"

When He spoke again, His words were laced with mockery and chill, yet they struck like a hammer:

"Yes."

Su Ming’an laughed.

As he laughed, his whole body trembled violently, rain streaming down his cheeks, pouring into his mouth, as if he were laughing himself to death.

Like humidity clinging to his pain, it became more evident, yet he seemed oblivious, laughing wildly, his laughter interspersed with an unusual brightness, like a child seeing sunny weather in the rainy season.

"Ha, hahaha...hahaha..."

His inner emotions erupted like a volcano, surged like a flood, a gray, sky-like vista spinning before his eyes.

He laughed, more rain pressing down on him, blending like ink in water.

...And in his view, everything was beautiful.

Teacher Jingjing quietly watched him, watching as his laughter gradually faded.

"Tired?"

"Laughing is a bit tiring," Su Ming’an said.

"But you now have failed," He said:

"Moreover, the world you wanted to save seems to have no value."

"It does," Su Ming’an smiled, "...There’s Mo Yan."

Upon receiving a positive response, his smile at that moment was as pure and clear as if newly born.

"I came to offer you a chance," Teacher Jingjing suddenly said, "—although you have failed here, losing all chances of a perfect pass. But, if you become an NPC with a special status, I can grant you an extra rise in position—you can gradually become a great being like us."

"Like Mizushima Haru?"

"You will excel a thousand times more than her."

Su Ming’an laughed, "...What if I refuse?"

"Do I need to provide you with a screenshot of Edron and company’s preparations for explosives after the end of the Third World?" Teacher Jingjing’s tone also carried a hint of teasing, "Humans’ attitude and actions of kicking someone while they are down, especially towards high fallers, are always my perfect condiments—you should have already thought about the consequences of your failure, just like now."

Once you fail here, wiped of all your power, everything starts from scratch.

And entering the next instance unarmed, he would become a target for other players.

...Similar to other players like Mizushima Haru.

...Similar to other players like Edward.

Sound of rain splattered.

Su Ming’an closed his eyes, his field of vision returning to tranquility.

His chest felt as if pressed by a thousand-pound scale, his stomach as if it swallowed gold and sank to his belly.

When he spoke again, his voice still carried a hint of laughter:

"...Then please do it."

"What?"

"Let me die."

"..." Teacher Jingjing showed visible shock in her eyes.

She didn’t understand.

In the past, She had also made these kinds of offers to players at the brink of death, offering them special statuses, and few refused Her.

Wiping everything clean, dying disgracefully, starting anew, few people could accept such an outcome. Not to mention, the ones She invited, were always the extremely high-ranking players.

Initially, Mizushima Haru was like that.

When she looked at Her, she saw redemption and didn’t hesitate to accept the request to become a "casualty."

...She had thought this time would be no exception.

The strongest, mightiest Number One Player, who had been threatened by their brethren, and placed in mortal danger by their brethren, should have agreed to Her without hesitation.

Why...

"Why."

Thinking this, She asked it out loud. Her words carried an urgency even She hadn’t noticed.

"Because I can’t move for now... and have no mana left, I don’t know how to die. Would drowning be too..."

"No, I’m asking, why," Teacher Jingjing said, "Why did you refuse me?"

"That reason..." Su Ming’an thought for a moment: "If you had come three minutes earlier, I might have agreed."

"...Is it because of that guy?" Teacher Jingjing spoke definitively.

She was referring to Mo Yan.

"No," Su Ming’an smiled, ""

"..." The boss Rabbit was silent for a moment, "You don’t seem to think that this is the end for you, what are you relying on?"

Su Ming’an didn’t speak.

When he smiled again, his voice was somewhat fainter, "...what do you think?"

Boss Rabbit turned around.

After being rejected, he no longer had a reason to stay.

Su Ming’an didn’t wait for an answer from Boss Rabbit.

His mountainous figure slowly disappeared into the rain curtain, vanishing. Then, the closed live stream was reopened by the system at that moment.

Snowflake-like barrages swiftly flew across the dark screen.

Su Ming’an couldn’t see the words clearly anymore.

But he could still guess what they probably said.

He moved his fingers, adjusted the barrage mechanism, and let those fast-moving words be played out loud.

The mechanical, icy voice echoed in his mind, accompanied by the crackling sound of the rain:

He listened, those cold mechanical voices carrying warmth as they flowed past his ear.

Rainwater streamed down his cheeks; he closed his eyes, wishing to just fall asleep.

The icy rainwater hit his hands, and his fingers trembled slightly.

He tightened his numb right hand, feeling a rough texture on his fingertips along with the nearly numb pain.

A sword blade lay under his fingertips at that moment; his fingers slightly moved, and he could touch the rough, uneven signed scratches on it.

...he touched a sturdy longsword.

His heart felt as if it was tightly grasped by a large hand, his brain directed his instincts, and a surge of blood-like heat that jumped out of his powerless body dominated his actions; he nearly madly stretched out his right hand, slapped it onto the ground, arched his fingers, wanting to pull his whole body up with his fingertips as the fulcrum.

He felt like he was the barge hauler in an oil painting on the Volga River, his nearly breaking fingers were the frail yet powerful body of the barge hauler, his worn-out body was the heavy, stagnant, cloudy-like boat.

The tearing pain and the agony from bending nails aroused him from his brief soul’s numbness and tranquility; he opened his eyes, seeing through a vision of red, as if he was looking at a new world.

He propped up his body.

From head to toe, the gradually spreading phantom pain sensation from his nerve endings and deep within his bones became clearer and clearer.

Then, he finally managed to awkwardly lift his hand.

Gently, slowly, he placed it on his temple.