CHAPTER 968: CHAPTER 965: "SU MING’AN, YOU ARE OUR END AND MIRACLE.

Su Ming’an emerges from the painting.

The gold-red candlelight flickers on his face, the golden frame slightly glowing.

He gazes up at the oil painting, releasing a very light syllable without speaking.

—It turns out, the people of this world really knew of his arrival, everything was truly destined. He was welcomed by countless lives, layered with numerous noble qualities, built upon blood and tears, allowing him to enter this world.

The Alliance Hierarch Tang, Deputy Minister of the City Guardian Department Su Shize, Doctor Su from the Psychological Counseling Center, even high school student Su Wensheng... When he encountered these vests, Su Ming’an began sketching their lives, engraving them upon himself.

Between them—it is both first meeting and final parting, both a reunion and a memorial.

Su Ming’an raises his head, looking towards the fiftieth painting, discovering its transformation. Previously, Su Wensheng stood beneath the teaching building, whose shadow resembled a giant beast; now it changed into a scene of blue moon.

Under the blue full moon, a black-haired youth kisses the lake reflecting the blue dissolving moon; he himself almost becomes the moon, the bright blue moonlight sketching his visage like a lightweight butterfly about to take flight, hovering upon the verge of the lake yet not falling, on the edge of water but not descending.

His gaze holds a wilderness-like calmness, despite tears mixed with blood, Su Ming’an cannot discern his sadness. One cannot tell if he is about to soar into the free and vast sky, or descend into the silent, tranquil Blue Lake.

The teaching building is no longer the gigantic beast capable of crippling him; at that moment, he faces the world’s destiny and choice. Past shadows cannot bind him, fear of death cannot crush him.

Su Wensheng knows his destined fate of dying, yet calmly accepts this. Even though, all the forced destiny is merely stepping stones for Su Ming’an’s arrival, he holds no resentment, but instead attempts to shoulder Su Ming’an’s responsibility as best as he can until the very last moment.

All the Firebearers lift their torches upon death, just to ignite the dim and futureless moment.

Su Ming’an stands quietly for a moment, his gaze resting on Su Wensheng’s painting for several seconds, before slowly withdrawing his sight, akin to a solemn farewell.

—Goodbye, Su Wensheng.

—You are not ordinary, you are not someone who even couldn’t save your orange cat.

—Your perseverance is meaningful. The cold eyes of power, the apathetic populace, the greedy officials, the dying sheep, the blind loyalty of faith, the undefeatable deities... these are not invincible, you have already defeated them.

—From the moment you entered the art classroom, you had already conquered this world that had been losing to you for nineteen years.

Handing over the responsibility to me is alright.

Beyond your world, also for my world, from now on—

—I will bear the life and death of countless people for you.

—I will swallow the bitterness of billions for you.

Su Ming’an lifts his head, gazing at the wavering candlelight on the wall, the shimmering halo descending into his eyes. At this moment, he seemingly returns to the day entering the Tenth World, the day he awoke in bed, seeing New Jubilee Year’s decorations, worn-out stationery and exercise books, faded pencil boxes, and heavy desktop computers. Outside the window, the leaves of the Parasol Tree fall, beneath the tree lies a fat orange cat sleeping in the soil.

Vaguely, a boy’s silhouette stands beneath the tree, as if accompanying his orange cat.

That day, Su Ming’an rose from bed, picked up the boy’s mobile phone, donned the boy’s school uniform, carried the boy’s whitened backpack, walked out of the boy’s house, encountred Xin Yue and the cloaked man contacted by the boy, as if he and the boy had always shared the same battlefield.

—The boy’s final battle is Su Ming’an’s first battle.

"Su Wensheng."

"I won’t meet you, I can only look at you through a cold oil painting, but I’ve received your fireseed, and I’ve learned everything you have done." Su Ming’an mutters: "Blessings to you..."

He turns back to look at the corridor he’s traversed, fifty golden paintings quietly hanging on the scarlet corridor, candles flickering, from the first of Tina to the last of Su Wensheng, each person holding a blue glass bottle seemingly glowing.

[—Look at it, how much it resembles the stars that represent hope.] Tang’s words still linger in his ears.

Su Ming’an’s eyes surge.

So many people remain in his mind, not a single one forgotten. Even among the seemingly inconspicuous figures, he remembers them clearly. Nora’s Blue Rose, An Qiluo’s cross, Saierga’s shout in the flames, even Master Liu’s trembling hands on the steering wheel...

He reflects upon these people, his gaze shimmering with waves.

"Life is bright, peace everlasting."

"Life after life, eternal in immortality..."

...

"Ding Dong!"

[TE3·Perfect Completion Progress: 50%]

...

[You have obtained key equipment·Heart’s Blood]

[Heart’s Blood (Red Level·Upgradable): "The return of fifty Firebearers finally arrives, flames burn endlessly—Su Ming’an, you are our end and miracle."

Durability: MAX

Physical Defense Value: 5 points

Mentality Defense Value: 5 points

Type: Special location ear equipment.

Passive Skills (The Republic): From now on, you can retrieve history through personal experience (methods to retrieve history are not limited to: touching antiques, studying old paintings, contacting outdated folk songs, consulting few elders with unerasable memories, exploring relics, etc.), and store history in your mind. The storage is permanent.

Equipment Requirement: Player Su Ming’an (Unique)

Note: This equipment cannot be transferred, sold, or discarded. Drop blood into the equipment for it to take effect.

History has become a "preserved item," only by storing it can history continue onward, otherwise, it may be distorted by power and victors, leaving no trace—only those who remember history can retain reality. You shall embark on the journey of collecting history—the fifty-first Firebearer, the historian—Mr. Su Ming’an.]

...

Su Ming’an gazes at the equipment in his hand.

It is a piece of equipment for a special location, not belonging to the head, upper body, lower body, feet, necklace, bracelet, ring, weapon of the eight main equipment areas.

It is an earring, in magnificent phosphorescent blue, subtly flowing with the fresh red of blood. The blending of red and blue seems to symbolize the heart molded from flesh and the glass bottle, symbolizing the hearts of all Firebearers. Upon wearing it, this instant, he senses the invisible years rapidly passing over him.

The past and the future entwine upon him, as if a spiderweb of causality lines envelops his entire body.

If we say that, deities are the "Funeral Directors" of history.

From now on, he has become the "Retrogressor" of history.

He himself is also a Fire Transmitter... yet he cannot die, the authority of the Death Rebound allows him only to win—now that the fireseed is passed on, he finally awaits the hope of the undying flame, waiting for the only Lighthouse.

He suddenly thought—since the original aligns only when descended, his own original rarity is very high, requiring so many people’s fine-tuning to complete. But in reality, he is also changing... just like the him in the First World, and the him now in the Tenth World. His original is also incessantly "fine-tuning."

The original manufacture in the Tenth World stacked too many people’s wills, just speaking of Su Ming’an, who first participated in the game, does not quite equate. The emotional resonance in the Ninth World contains nearly all of Acto’s memories, emotions, and memories of the Nine Thrones, even the results of thousands of simulations.

If the final Su Wensheng is an original composed of countless people’s corpses, then the present Su Ming’an is an original stacked by countless of his own corpses.

No one is born a hero; the will transform through the tribulations and hymns of human civilization, only then becomes the Su Ming’an of today, bearing the weight of so many souls.

He recalled a passage from before Li Mingyue.

...

["Do you think deities are invincible?" Boris’s voice had a hint of annoyance.]

["Possible. But you are not enough," the Godfather said.]

["I’m not enough? Then who do you think is enough?" Boris asked.]

["Countless ’yous’," the Godfather said.]

...

It turns out, at that time, Li Mingyue was speaking the truth, not mocking Boris.

Li Mingyue, as a human, could protect Dao Ya City, making it a place where deities could not intervene. Su Ming’an thought, Li Mingyue must know many things.

"Su Ming’an." Beside him came Noel’s voice: "Have you finished looking at the painting?"

Su Ming’an nodded: "Finished. Deities are really petty."

Noel tilted his head: "I’ve never seen you speak in this tone. Do you hate deities that much?"

Su Ming’an said: "This is the territory of deities. The deities deliberately place portraits of fifty people who opposed them in the corridor, for what purpose? Not for me to see these paintings, but to mock the efforts of these people in life. They died from the oppression of deities, yet these portraits hang in the deity’s own corridor, just like flaunting trophies. How can I respect them?"

Noel raised an eyebrow: "Maybe there’s another reason? Maybe deities also have unspeakable difficulties."

Su Ming’an said: "I need enough information to understand deities. As of now, this deity is very disgraceful. He wants me to annihilate the world, yet gives me no information; I’ve never seen such a disgraceful deity."

He then launched a barrage of criticism at the deities.

Noel was silent for a moment, then somewhat strained, took Su Ming’an’s hand: "Let’s hurry, it’s not safe here. There’s only half an hour until the activation of the First Tower."

They walked through the long corridor, down the golden spiral staircase, and Su Ming’an once again criticized the aesthetics of the deity’s building, as if he couldn’t look past anything, with Noel remaining silent as he listened.

It wasn’t until they saw the door that Noel called out loudly: "We can exit now."

Su Ming’an said: "You go first."

Noel gave Su Ming’an a somewhat surprised look, nodded: "Alright, I’ll go first. Be careful at the back."

Noel walked forward, with Su Ming’an following behind. The moment Noel pushed open the door, a piercing golden light appeared, like a golden arrow, instantly piercing through Noel’s heart.

The arrow was too fast, Su Ming’an couldn’t react.

Noel fell backward, eyes wide open, blood pooling around him.

...

The deity sat quietly in a room filled with traces of stars and light screens, gazing at the splendid star scenery all around, watching them be born one by one and perish one by one. The trajectories of the starry sky crisscrossed, with countless lines of causality breaking and connecting again.

What makes a deity in this world?

To understand all things, to hold everyone’s trajectory, to foresee everyone’s destined conclusion—deities have vast vision, immense computing power, and rules that transcend life.

At this moment, light was flowing in their eyes—they could see the actions of the vast majority of people in the world, even precisely calculate their next movements. Whether it was the Dream Patrol Family gathering at the entrance to the relics, or the "First Dream Patrol Family" investigating the case, or the dynamics of various nations... the deity could see.

The voices of the kings conversing, the players communicating, the populace demanding a thorough investigation of the Ark Project, the officials shifting responsibilities... all meshed in their ears, perceived by them.

The deity rose, coming to a giant panel. The panel displayed the global population, resources situation for the current month, data so overwhelming that it was suffocating, yet they glanced at it and instantly understood all the data.

"... The total amount of negative emotion has increased." The deity murmured.

Compared to last month, people were more irritable and angry, with negative emotions ceaselessly emerging. The data indicated it was an issue brought by the internet.

The deity enjoyed surfing the internet, but rarely personally managed it. The last time they managed the internet was when they helped Su Ming’an delete negative comments on Su Luoluo’s homepage. This time, they carefully reviewed the internet situation and found humanity increasingly inviting problems for themselves.

—They merely made them forget history.

—Yet these people became as if they never lived, discarding qualities, virtue, decorum, and the baseline of being human on the internet.

Everywhere were revolting comments, venting of negative emotions, expletive-laden arguments; as soon as online opinions diverged slightly, they easily devolved into frenzied spats, venom filling their hearts.

The deity found it amusing—offline, humans indeed excel in disguising, in smiling, in handshakes, even feeling uncomfortable speaking loudly. But once online, they seemed to change personalities; even introverted, silent individuals speak with sly sarcasm, eager to assume the worst in those on the other end of the network cable, as if facing arch-enemies.

"You always prefer self-destruction, no matter the world." The deity self-talked, watching the filthy words zipping across the panel.

The deity left there, teleporting beside the gate.

By the gate lay Noel, blood-soaked on the ground, a golden arrow lodged in their heart.

Su Ming’an looked up, gazing at the suddenly appearing deity.

"You’re trying to escape, so I killed him; this is the first warning," the deity said: "If you come here again, there will be a second warning."