Black Technology Director Can Make Anything Come True (3): Someone actually wants to compete with Xiu Xiu for favor!

No matter how much the couple cursed, the two brothers made dinner at home on their own.

Just like the original owner, Si Qi called the little girl over for dinner, but the girl, proud and stubborn, refused to eat food given out of pity. She angrily accused them of eating her family’s things shamelessly.

Seeing her reaction, Si Qi did not insist further. He simply left food on the table, telling her she could eat whenever she got hungry.

But when he said this, the little girl lashed out at him again. Si Lin, his younger brother, gave her a chilling glare that made him look terrifying.

Si Qi realized that if he kept showing kindness to the little girl only to be met with cold rejection, his younger brother might act out of jealousy or resentment and hurt her. So he decided not to interfere anymore—after all, she was old enough that she couldn’t possibly starve to death in their house.

A few hours after the phone call, people from the Child Protection Center arrived at their home.

Si Qi invited them to sit down. With Si Lin’s prompting, he recounted every detail of what he had gone through as a child. Many things that Si Lin had forgotten because he was too young at the time, Si Qi remembered vividly.

He gave a straightforward account, hiding nothing, about how life had been after their uncle and aunt took custody of them. He told them that the adults had never properly cared for them even for a single day, that he himself, at only five years old, had raised his younger brother—boiling water for formula, going to the baby shop to buy diapers, taking his brother to the hospital when he had a fever—all on his own, before he was even ten.

He also told them how the two adults had beaten and abused him for years, oppressed him with verbal and psychological violence, and how his body still bore scars from the old wounds. He showed them the tiny room he and his brother lived in—two teenage boys crammed into a space barely larger than a bathroom, with a wardrobe that contained only school uniforms and almost no other proper clothes, and shoes so worn out that the soles were nearly breaking apart.

Faced with so much evidence, the adults from the Child Protection Center were visibly shaken. The little girl, not understanding the situation, kept shouting angrily while Si Qi spoke ill of her parents: “My mom and dad already gave you food, what more do you want!”, “You’re ungrateful, shameless!”, “You made me angry so of course you deserved a beating!”, “If you keep talking like this, get out of my house!” She even tried to hit Si Qi, only to be stopped by Si Lin.

The sight infuriated the adults, who had initially been gentle toward the girl. They became increasingly certain of how toxic the uncle and aunt’s influence had been, and how the brothers must have been treated all these years.

Not wanting to argue with a little girl, the adults instead checked her room—full of clothes, toys, snacks. Seeing how pampered and spoiled she was, compared with the brothers’ misery, they understood everything.

After verifying the situation and confirming this was not a prank, the adults comforted the two brothers and gave them their private phone numbers, telling them they could call anytime, no matter how late, and they would always stand by them and help.

They also said they would immediately start investigating the inheritance and house ownership, and once all the documents and evidence were gathered, they would help the brothers resolve everything.

Si Qi, looking both relieved and overjoyed, thanked them repeatedly and escorted them downstairs.

Si Lin, however, kept a cold face the entire time, showing no gratitude even to those who came to help, unable to feel warmth toward anyone but his brother.

But as soon as Si Qi returned upstairs, his two-faced younger brother immediately put on an admiring look and said, “Brother, you were amazing just now. I didn’t know what to say at all, I was so nervous.”

Si Qi laughed. “No wonder you kept a stiff face without speaking—so that’s why.”

Si Lin nodded. “If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t even know how to deal with people.”

Si Qi immediately said, “Don’t worry. As long as I’m here, you don’t need to worry about anything!”

Si Lin gazed at him with admiration. “You’re the best, brother…”

Xiu Xiu: […… The great devil really pretends to be a little white rabbit so well!!]

Si Qi: [He likes being a little white rabbit, so let him. He’s wanted to live this way for a long time.]

Xiu Xiu lay on the ground, envious: [(：з」∠) Master really spoils the Child of the World.]

Si Qi: [I got good at spoiling you first, remember?]

Xiu Xiu covered its face: [(/w＼) Oh no, so embarrassing…]

The black-tech system watching from the side: […]

It definitely wasn’t envious!!!

While Si Lin was clinging sweetly to Si Qi, he also shot vicious glares to warn off the little girl still trying to attack with a stick, and pulled Si Qi back to their room. He told him, “Brother, once those two are gone, we’ll take care of ourselves. I can take care of myself, so you don’t have to worry.”

Si Qi nodded cheerfully. “No problem.”

All these years, it had always been Si Qi taking care of both himself and his brother, without help from the adults. Losing them wouldn’t change much—life would probably even get better.

They would spend their own money, enjoy good food without hiding or sneaking around, and not get beaten anymore—how wonderful.

Si Lin looked at his brother’s bright, carefree smile, so much like how he remembered him—always full of sunshine—and felt a surge of uncontrollable affection.

His poor brother, who had borne the burden of raising two children while still a child himself, who had never known a single day of ease.

Now that he was back, he swore to protect his brother just as his brother had once protected him—to spare him from hardship, to let him live carefree, and to give him anything he wanted. He would make him the happiest person in the world.

Thinking this, Si Lin showed a pure, genuine smile—one he hadn’t displayed in decades in his past life—and asked, “Brother, is there something you really want to do?”

Because of that damn system, in his past life Si Lin had lived like a puppet, following tasks step by step. Even if those tasks were necessary for his goals, he had been deeply unhappy.

Aside from true researchers, who would want to spend their entire life in a lab, buried in endless complex data, with nothing else to life? Such a hollow existence could be summed up in one sentence.

Knowing how empty that life was, Si Lin didn’t want his brother to live the same way. He wanted him to live freely and happily, free from responsibility.

Si Qi answered without hesitation: “I want to work in the film industry!”

Si Lin recalled his brother’s old interests—how he loved reading novels, watching movies, and anime whenever he had free time, always smiling while doing so. His phone battery was always drained after school because of it. He couldn’t help but smile. “Then you can become a famous director one day!”

Si Qi puffed out his chest with confidence. “Of course! There’s nothing your brother can’t do!”

Si Lin chuckled softly.

Yes, his brother could do anything. In school or in life, he was always better than others, always achieving smoothly. That was why the black-tech system had chosen him, out of billions, to change the course of human civilization.

But given what he knew of that system, it was probably already nagging his brother, warning him not to dream of something so “ridiculous,” maybe even threatening him with electric shocks…

Si Lin’s smile grew cold for a moment, then he quickly masked it and said, “Brother, making movies takes a lot of money. If you become a director, I’ll be your investor, I want to support you.”

Of course, Si Qi was touched and agreed, rubbing his brother’s head happily. “Then I’ll count on you to invest in my movies one day! But for now, you have to focus on studying—that’s the most important thing, alright?”

Si Lin obediently nodded, then asked, “Brother, do you know about Litecoins?”

Searching the original owner’s memory, Si Qi realized he didn’t. He shook his head. “No, what’s that?”

Xiu Xiu, connected to the world’s internet, quickly provided info: [Litecoin is a kind of virtual currency in this world. Many countries allow cash exchanges. Right now one Litecoin equals about 300,000 yuan.]

Si Qi, who had been to many worlds where cash had disappeared in favor of digital currency, understood immediately.

But Si Lin didn’t know that, so he carefully explained: “It’s a global virtual currency called Litecoin. It can be used like cash.”

Si Qi pretended to be enlightened. “I see. So what about it?”

Si Lin explained concisely: “Litecoin isn’t printed—it’s released online every ten minutes. Six years ago, fifty coins each time. This year, only 12.5 each time. The rarer it gets, the more valuable it becomes. To earn it, people compete by solving math problems—the first to solve it within ten minutes gets the coin.”

Si Qi was astonished. “So if you solve the math problem, you get a huge sum of money?”

“Exactly.” Si Lin found it ironic.

Back then, their uncle and aunt had tormented them for years just over a few hundred thousand yuan and one house. His brother had even died over a small compensation payout.

Later, after getting the black-tech system, Si Lin had learned to mine Litecoins by solving these problems. He had quickly earned 12.5 Litecoins—over three million yuan.

If even he could do it, with his brother’s intelligence it would be even easier.

Yet his brilliant brother had suffered so much for so little, and died so pitifully. The thought made Si Lin feel bitterly sad.

Seeing Si Qi’s astonishment, Si Lin said: “Leave earning Litecoins to me. You just focus on your exams and your dreams.”

Si Qi: “But math is my strength! You’re only in junior high—you might be slower at it than others!”

The black-tech system nearly wept with joy. So all it took to motivate its host was money?! No need for lofty ideals of science, fame, or power—just a few thousand yuan?!

Si Lin shook his head. “You don’t need to bother with such a small thing.”

His brother wasn’t the type to enjoy solving math problems. He himself had dealt with much harder problems in his past life, so this was child’s play for him.

Si Qi, seeing his brother so determined, didn’t press further. He smiled. “Xiao Lin is really amazing, already able to help me.”

Si Lin’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Am I really that amazing?”

“Of course.” Si Qi ruffled his hair with a smile. “You already know more than your brother.”

Feeling his brother’s warm hand on his head, Si Lin blushed, looking adorable.

In that moment, he decided he would do more and more, just to earn his brother’s praise.

It felt amazing.

Xiu Xiu, floating in Si Qi’s consciousness, watched this scene and felt something oddly familiar.

It thought for a long time, puzzled, until the black-tech system said flatly: [Isn’t this the same way your master tricks you every day?]

Just a little sweet talk, and the little golden dragon would happily rush to do anything for its master. Too easy.

Xiu Xiu: [Σ(っ°Д°;)っ?!]

The black-tech system thought he would finally “wake up” and rebel against Si Qi.

But instead—

Xiu Xiu: [What?! Someone is competing with me for my master’s affection? Is my position as his number one fan being threatened? Master! I can mine Litecoins too! My computing power is faster than a quantum computer! Si Lin can dream if he thinks he’ll take even one Litecoin from me!!]

The black-tech system: […] It knew better than to expect anything from this fool.

Si Qi, amused: [Alright, no need to compete with Si Lin. You’ll always be my number one fan.]

Xiu Xiu, pitifully: [Really? I won’t be replaced?]

Si Qi: [Yes, yes, you won’t.]

Xiu Xiu: [Hehe~]

The black-tech system stood coldly by, saying nothing.

Hmph! It wasn’t envious at all!

…

While their uncle and aunt suffered in detention, Si Lin had already used their old computer to mine his first pot of gold.

With Litecoin’s value skyrocketing—40,000 times in ten years—people worldwide were rushing to mine in teams. Si Lin, lacking professional equipment, only had an old computer, so sometimes he was slower than them. Still, he managed to win several times a day, and before long he already held Litecoins worth tens of millions.

This speed of making money—if it weren’t actually happening, hardly anyone would believe it if they heard about it.

Si Lin spent the whole night mining and the next day ran to Si Qi for praise.

“Brother, brother, I made money! Over twelve million!!”

The little girl next to them, eating potato chips for breakfast with a scowl, gave a cold laugh and glanced at Si Lin like he was an idiot.

Si Qi had already heard about this from Xiu Xiu, so now he put on a very convincing look of shock, exclaiming in disbelief: “Xiao Lin, you’re that amazing?! Brother is so proud of you!!!”

Originally, Si Lin didn’t think much of this amount of money, but upon hearing Si Qi’s praise, his face flushed with excitement. “Brother, what do you want? I’ll buy it for you!! For filming you need a camera, right? I’ll get you the best camera!! Also, watching movies is more comfortable with a projector, isn’t it? Then we have to get a projector too!!—Brother, whatever you want, I’ll buy it!!”

Si Qi’s eyes curved happily as he said: “Then let’s just start with buying you a few sets of clothes. The weather’s getting cooler, so we should be prepared.”

Si Lin paused for a moment, feeling a sudden ache in his heart. He couldn’t help but think about how, ever since his brother left all those years ago, no one had ever nagged him about his clothes or cared whether he was cold when the weather turned.

Everyone thought he was scary—always cold-faced and gloomy—so they all avoided him.

Sniffling, he said, “Mm! Then we should buy clothes for brother too!”

Si Qi smiled, eyes squinting: “Xiao Lin is so filial.”

Si Lin: Filial… filial?

Being told he was “filial” by someone who, in theory, was decades younger than him, gave Si Lin a strange, awkward expression. But he quickly forgot the moment and sat at the table, excitedly waiting for his brother’s breakfast.

Truthfully, Si Qi wasn’t good at cooking. The two adults never let them touch anything in the kitchen, thinking they’d steal food.

So Si Qi’s breakfast was just two slices of bread with a burnt egg and a sausage inside, without even ketchup.

But even so, Si Lin—who had eaten the finest food in the world—still held that ugly sandwich and ate it happily, not leaving a single crumb.

The little girl rolled her eyes at the two of them while munching her chips, thinking to herself that when Mom and Dad got back, she’d make sure they taught those two bullies a lesson—she wanted Dad to break their legs and make them cry for mercy.

Then, with her hair messy and clothes poorly matched, she slung on her backpack and went to school, not even glancing at the brothers.

Although Si Qi disliked the child, he still had Xiu Xiu follow her, just in case something happened while she was at school.

Xiu Xiu obediently complied.

Then Si Qi walked Si Lin to his school. Along the way, Si Lin kept hinting at him to study hard, complete tasks, and not suffer just because he didn’t like the system—it would make him heartache otherwise.

Si Qi understood what his brother meant, smiled, and reassured him. After watching his brother enter the school, he turned and wandered off to his own high school.

Under the black-tech system’s heartbroken gaze, he pulled out his knockoff phone and happily started reading a novel.

His deskmate, unfazed by the sight, adjusted his glasses and handed him a test paper: “Si Qi, how do you solve this problem?”

Si Qi looked at the math problem his classmate had scribbled over multiple times without solving, glanced at it, then casually drew two lines: “First calculate here, then here, then like this, and this.”

The students who could get into this school weren’t stupid—just a bit of guidance was enough. His classmate quickly understood, nodded: “Got it.”

He returned to his seat with the paper, but soon, a few more classmates came over with their own test papers.

“Si Qi, how do you translate this sentence?”

Si Qi said, “Mm—‘The violin’s tragic grandeur is like running with all your might at sunset, then dying without regret.’”

The classmate thought about it, then lit up: “That’s it! Translating it as ‘tragic grandeur’ is perfect!”

“Si Qi, how about this one?”

Seeing so many gathered around, Si Qi simply put down his phone and looked at their questions one by one: “Wouldn’t solving this with a square root be faster?”

“The equation is fine, but you made a mistake in this step.”

“The last sage of Changya’s Three Saints is Zhou Xuan, not Li Mo. Li Mo was a modern poet.”

“What, even you science students are coming to ask me questions? Here, adding AgNO3 solution gives a white precipitate that doesn’t dissolve in dilute nitric acid—so the original solution definitely contained Cl-.”

Even though the original owner didn’t study much, always played on his phone in class, and never did homework, surprisingly he never provoked resentment.

Unlike the world’s child, the original owner was cheerful, efficient, and had always maintained excellent relationships with teachers and classmates, able to get along with anyone. Whatever task the teachers gave him, no matter how complicated, no matter how many people had to be coordinated, even when it came to dealing with adults outside of school—if it was entrusted to him, he would always get it done perfectly.

With such a personality, it was only natural he would make a great director, coordinating and working with people from all sides. His problem-solving calmness, familiarity with life, rich experience, and boundless passion for stories were invaluable.

No wonder the gloomy, cold “child of the world” was so fond of his brother—the original owner was like a little sun, warming everything around him.

The homeroom teacher, Mr. Yang, walked into the classroom with the bell for morning study. Seeing the crowd around Si Qi, he wasn’t surprised. He didn’t even send the students back to their seats—he just sat at the lectern with his thermos. After a while, seeing no one leaving, he got a bit sulky: here he was, a whole teacher, and yet no one came to ask him questions.

Clearing his throat, he said: “Alright, if you have questions, you can come ask me.”

The students glanced at him and said: “Teacher, it’s fine—we’ll just ask Si Qi.”

“Anyway, he’d just be playing on his phone otherwise. This way we can help him review.”

“Exactly, if we don’t ask him, he’ll just play!”

“Teacher, do you even know physics?”

The teacher sighed: “Fine, fine, so you all prefer Si Qi, huh? Next time when you review geography, I’ll have him give the lecture instead.”

The students grinned: “No problem! Si Qi explains things super clearly. Let him do it.”

Si Qi: “…Did you even ask me if I agree?”

The teacher slowly sipped his goji tea: “It’s decided then!”

Si Qi: “….” Great. So apparently, the person actually involved had no say.

When Si Qi went to pick up Si Lin after school, Si Lin was shocked to see that his brother’s backpack wasn’t empty. “Brother, you actually brought books home?!”

Suddenly remembering this must be the system’s doing, Si Lin angrily thought: Damn system, actually forcing brother to study at home! One day, I’ll tear you to pieces!

In Si Qi’s consciousness space, the black-tech system sneezed: [Achoo—!]

Rubbing its pitch-black nose, the system muttered: [Who’s cursing me?]

Xiu Xiu was dumbfounded: [You’re just a bunch of data, and you can sneeze??? Did you get a virus?!]

System: […]

Si Qi said: “The teacher said I should give the geography review tomorrow, so I brought a book to look over.”

Si Lin’s heart ached: “How could that teacher make brother substitute for him? Brother, don’t overwork yourself.”

Si Qi waved: “It’s fine. Last time when I didn’t have money for lunch, it was the homeroom teacher who lent me money. This is nothing.”

Si Lin searched his memories and realized he couldn’t recall such a thing. His brother must have kept it from him so he wouldn’t worry. His heart felt sour.

“Brother, now that I can make money, I won’t ever let you go without again.”

Si Qi grinned: “Great, then I’ll just wait for Xiao Lin to support me.”

Xiu Xiu stifled a laugh: [If the Lord God finds out, he’ll definitely get jealous.]

How unfair—his job of looking after Si Qi had been stolen.

Si Qi joked: [What’s jealousy? Once there’s a kid in the family, the husband’s just like a free gift from topping up a phone card.]

Xiu Xiu burst out laughing: [That’s way too accurate!]

Black Technology Director Can Make Anything Come True (2): Brothers reunited

Making movies could change the world and promote the progress of world civilization?

What a joke!?

The system screamed angrily, stomping non-stop: [Nonsense! You obviously just like watching movies and want to become a director! And you even want to trick me! You haven’t even seriously considered completing your mission!!]

Seeing this, Xiu Xiu became furious. Its little claws smacked the system wildly:[How dare you doubt Xiu Xiu’s master! Xiu Xiu will beat you up!! You’re not allowed to question my master’s decisions! Whatever master says is right!! Whatever master does is right!!]

The system was beaten until it was tearful: [You two are too much…]

Si Qi, smiling as he watched the usually punishment-happy system get beaten up by Xiu Xiu, cheerfully said: [Good job, Xiu Xiu.]

Upon hearing this, Xiu Xiu became even happier, hitting with a crackling fury—sparks and lightning flying everywhere. The damage was minimal, but the humiliation was extreme.

The system lay on the ground, lifeless and hopeless, its digital tears flowing everywhere.

Si Qi turned off his poor-quality knockoff phone that overheated after a short while. Yawning, he shifted positions and fell asleep lying down.

The system didn’t dare disturb Si Qi, not even releasing the tiniest spark of current, lying quietly on the ground while Xiu Xiu continued its “lesson.”

After a while, the class bell rang. A few students packed up to go home, but most remained in their seats, reading or doing homework.

Judging by the high percentage of students wearing glasses, this was indeed a top-tier elite class of a prestigious high school, full of diligent model students—except for Si Qi.

Si Qi never stayed late after school to study. He grabbed his empty backpack—leaving all books and homework on his desk—and happily ran out of school, heading to the middle school about ten minutes away to pick up his younger brother.

This had been his routine for many years, something the original body had long been used to.

Clutching the hard-earned fifteen yuan in his hand, Si Qi ran to a roast chicken shop near the school and bought half a chicken.

Of course, a chicken that cheap wasn’t anything high-quality, but for two brothers who grew up eating only cold rice at home and were mocked whenever they got an extra bite of meat, the hot, fragrant, sizzling roast chicken was an unbelievably luxurious treat.

After all, they usually couldn’t even bear to spend fifty cents on spicy sticks!

Today, Si Qi had really gone all out.

He tucked the chicken, wrapped in a paper bag, into his backpack to keep it warm, then hugged the bag excitedly and tiptoed to look inside the school.

His younger brother—who also disliked school, treated teachers and classmates with cold indifference, and had terrible social relations—walked quickly out with his head down. The moment he spotted his older brother waiting at the gate, this usually stone-faced boy’s eyes instantly turned red.

Choking up, and under the shocked stares of nearby classmates, he rushed into his brother’s arms, clinging tightly, crying with grievance, sorrow, and deep longing.

“Brother!!!”

Si Qi: …?

It had been so many years since he’d last seen his younger brother cry. Flustered, Si Qi dropped the backpack he had been holding like a treasure and hurriedly hugged his brother, soothing him: “Good boy, good boy, what’s wrong? Oh no, seeing you cry makes me want to cry too…”

Every time the original owner saw his younger brother cry, he would break down in tears too. Si Qi had inherited the original’s memories and instincts—sometimes he could suppress it, sometimes he didn’t want to.

He held back his burning nose, his voice hoarse and pained: “Did something happen at school? Tell me, I’ll help you vent your anger!”

“No, no…” The Child of the World buried his head in Si Qi’s arms, desperately absorbing his brother’s warmth and familiar scent. The pain of losing him years ago, and all those years of bitter loneliness, exploded at this very moment.

He cried as though suffering the greatest sorrow in the world, loud enough to draw the stares of nearby students and teachers. His tears and snot quickly soaked through Si Qi’s clothes. Si Qi could only hold him tightly, pained, comforting him gently, and carefully asking, “What’s wrong? Tell me, don’t be sad.”

Once hailed as the God of Science—the richest man in the world, idolized by billions—at this moment, he was just a pitiful boy who finally got to see his brother again. Eyes red, blurred with tears, he tried hard to make out his brother’s face.

Yes.

His brother was exactly the same as in his memory—teenage years, messy bedhead, faded school uniform—yet more handsome than anyone else in the world.

Clutching Si Qi’s hand, he sobbed: “Brother, where did you go? How could you leave me alone! Do you know how much I missed you…”

And like the brother who had always doted on him unconditionally, Si Qi nodded without hesitation: “It was my fault. I’ll always stay with you now. Don’t cry. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Wuwuwu…”

Deep down, he knew his brother had done nothing wrong. His brother had always been there whenever he could, always came whenever called, and had even left back then to save him. His brother bore no fault at all.

“It’s all my fault, all mine… wuwuwu…” His tears poured like a broken faucet, unstoppable. Even though he knew it would make his brother heartache, the grief overwhelmed him. He clutched Si Qi’s hand tightly, terrified that letting go would make him disappear again, sobbing: “Brother, don’t leave me…”

Si Qi kept comforting him: “I won’t, I won’t. I’ll never leave you. How could I bear to?”

“Wu…” Already an adult inside, the Child of the World nodded desperately, his choked voice rising as he gazed with adoration at his forever-eighteen brother: “I won’t let you leave me…”

“Yes, yes.” Si Qi just nodded along, bent down, picked up the dropped backpack, and eagerly unzipped it, holding it out like an offering: “Look! Guess what this is!”

The Child of the World, barely calming down, looked inside and saw the familiar roast chicken. At once, he burst into tears again.

This roast chicken—it had been the last gift his brother ever gave him, decades ago. His brother had died while he was still eating it.

If not for his craving for roast chicken that day, his brother wouldn’t have gone out of his way to surprise him at school, wouldn’t have crossed that road, wouldn’t have been hit by that damned truck.

Because of that trauma, he had loathed roast chicken ever since. Just the sight of it made him physically nauseous—he hadn’t eaten it in years.

Yet now, seeing his brother happily tearing off a drumstick and holding it to his mouth, he sobbed and took it, eating bite after bite.

He couldn’t taste anything at all—just the salt of his tears.

Si Qi chuckled, wiping his tears with his sleeve, and said: “Don’t rush. There’s more. We’ll finish, then go home.”

The Child of the World wept: “Wuwu, brother, you eat too.”

“I’m not hungry,” Si Qi replied, as he always did, holding his brother’s hand and walking toward home.

They came to the road that had haunted the Child of the World’s nightmares countless times. His pupils shrank, his face went pale, and he clutched Si Qi tightly, refusing to step forward.

Si Qi asked in confusion: “What’s wrong?”

The Child of the World’s voice trembled, feigning calm: “I… I don’t want to go this way. Let’s take another route.”

“But home is just across the street…”

“I don’t want to!!” His voice sharpened, his body shaking as he pleaded: “Brother…”

Si Qi immediately surrendered, scratching his head helplessly. “Alright then.”

At that moment, a huge truck roared through the red light ahead, startling pedestrians about to cross.

Once they recovered from the fright, angry curses erupted: “Damn it, in such a hurry to die?!”

The Child of the World’s body was rigid, his face pale as he stared at the scene. Only after a long time did he escape that suffocating fear.

Si Qi, unfazed, tugged his brother toward another street. The Child of the World followed stiffly, finally letting out a long sigh of relief, his expression mixed with complexity and gratitude.

He really had traveled back through time. He had saved his brother.

His brother was alive—and this time, he would live a long life.

The Child of the World wiped away his tears and smiled brightly at his unsuspecting brother, feeling lighter than ever.

Si Qi asked: “Now can you tell me what you were crying about just now?”

The Child of the World blushed at the memory of his loss of control.

After a while, he said: “I had a dream.”

“A nightmare?”

“A terrible one…” His tone was low, his heart aching as he said, “I dreamed that you got into a car accident and left me alone…”

Si Qi chuckled: “It was just a dream.”

The Child of the World lowered his head, silent for a while, then breathed deeply and smiled: “Yes, just a dream. Not reality.”

Then he looked up at his brother, noticing the dark circles under his eyes. “Brother, have you been very tired lately?”

Si Qi’s expression flickered, but he replied in his usual carefree tone: “No, I’m fine.”

No matter what he faced, his brother would never show weakness, never let him worry.

The Child of the World’s nose stung. Nearly in tears again, he forced himself to say: “Brother, you’ve got such huge panda eyes, and you still say you’re fine.”

“Just school pressure. You know, I’m in my last year of high school.”

But the Child of the World, who knew better than anyone how much his brother hated studying, was speechless.

After decades with the black-tech system, he knew well how strict its secrecy rules were. A host couldn’t leak system information or they’d be punished by electric shocks.

But seeing his brother tormented like this, he couldn’t stand idly by. So he said directly: “Brother, seeing you like this makes me really sad.”

“Huh?”

Head lowered, embarrassed, he murmured: “I worry about you a lot. Could you… could you not push yourself so hard, for my sake?”

“……”

Si Qi frowned in thought. And, just as the Child of the World expected, he nodded firmly: “Alright. Brother listens to you. I won’t make you worry.”

And of course, his way of not worrying his brother would be to complete the system’s tasks, study seriously, rank first in his year, and eventually top the national college entrance exam.

The Child of the World knew exactly what tasks the system would give at this stage.

And with his brother’s genius-level intellect, completing them would be easy—if only he weren’t so averse to studying and being threatened. That was why things had gone so badly now.

But he would never force his brother into the suffocating, joyless life he himself had endured. He just needed time. For now, he wanted his brother to temporarily compromise with the system, so he wouldn’t lose sleep and risk another accident.

Given time, he would find a way to free his brother from the cursed system—and make it pay.

With that thought in mind, the two brothers quietly finished their roast chicken outside and returned home.

At home, the younger sister, who was still in elementary school, leaned against the sofa watching cartoons. When she saw her two older brothers return, she acted as if she hadn’t seen them at all, completely ignoring them.

Si Qi took a detour around the back of the sofa, long used to this little princess who thought everyone should give way to her. But the so-called “Child of the World” openly walked straight past the TV, immediately provoking the household’s little tyrant, who screamed: “Are you sick?! Why are you blocking my TV?!”

Carrying both his and his younger brother’s schoolbags to their room, Si Qi turned around at her words.

The Child of the World’s face turned cold. He looked at the younger sister who, in his previous life, had gone out of her way to please him, and his voice was full of disgust: “You want to watch TV? I’ll let you watch—”

“Xiao Lin!” Seeing the Child of the World reach out toward the girl’s collar—an action identical to how her parents used to hit the brothers—Si Qi, looking startled, rushed over to stop him: “What are you doing, why…?”

The Child of the World glared with hatred at his furious younger sister. In his mind, he saw the scene from his past life: she had happily accepted the money his brother had exchanged with his life, grinning alongside their uncle and aunt, saying, “Great! I can buy so many things now. Looks like Si Qi isn’t so useless after all~~.” That hateful face was something he would never forget.

Back in the present, seeing that arrogant, willful face again, he wanted nothing more than to slap it ten thousand times.

Let you watch TV…

Si Qi pulled him back, acting like a peacemaker: “It’s just TV. You could’ve just gone around the back…”

This little princess was used to having her way at home, with two adults spoiling her unconditionally. If she got upset, she would immediately run to her parents and complain.

Her parents wouldn’t care that the brothers had merely blocked her view for a moment—if she complained, they would slap and scold these “heartless burdens” without hesitation, even denying them food.

The Child of the World knew his older brother was worried he’d provoke their uncle and aunt and get them both punished. He sneered coldly and said to Si Qi: “Brother, don’t stop me. Why should this girl be ordering us around in our own house? What is she even worth?”

Si Qi looked confused: “Our house?”

Si Lin said, “Brother, you don’t know, do you? This house was left to us by our parents. That family of three lives here, spends the money our parents left us, beats and scolds us, and even rations food to us! Why should they?”

Si Qi looked as though he had no idea what his brother was talking about. The younger sister, still in elementary school, screeched: “Nonsense! You two parasites spend my parents’ money, live in our house, eat and drink everything from my parents! And you still dare say my parents wronged you? Get out! Don’t stay in my house!”

Si Lin raised his hand, ready to hit her again, but Si Qi stopped him, frowning: “Is what you’re saying true…?”

It wasn’t that he doubted his brother’s words. The reborn Child of the World naturally knew many things the brothers at this age couldn’t possibly know. But the original Si Qi had been brainwashed by his uncle and aunt since childhood, told repeatedly, “You two are just parasites. Living here is a huge burden. If it weren’t for pity, we’d never waste money raising you.”

From the age of five, Si Qi had deeply believed that he and his brother couldn’t survive on their own. To keep his little brother from starving, he swallowed his pride and stayed at his uncle and aunt’s house. Even though they were mistreated, he didn’t dare run away. After all, even if he could barely endure hunger at his age, he couldn’t bear to see the younger brother he loved suffer with him.

In the end, his uncle and aunt did raise them. They hadn’t let them starve or wander the streets, and they had even let them attend school.

But now his brother was saying things he had never known before. He was completely stunned.

The worldly old fox Si Qi—tens of thousands of years in experience—acted clueless the whole time, watching his younger brother bravely shield him, making their sister cry and scream, her shrill voice shaking the house. She wanted to fight Si Lin but couldn’t, relying on Si Qi to protect her from being hit, wailing at the top of her lungs.

Then he watched as Si Lin barged into their uncle and aunt’s room, opened the computer, and called the Child Protection Center, describing in detail how he and his brother were mistreated. He explained that their guardians had stolen their inheritance, seized their house, and abused them since childhood—without leaving their guardians a shred of dignity.

The staff on the other end responded quickly, gently asking for their home address and reassuring them not to be afraid.

Next, Si Lin called the Market Regulation Bureau, reporting under his real name that their uncle and aunt’s hotpot restaurant used addictive poppy ingredients—this time personally repeating what he had arranged in his previous life.

Meanwhile, the younger sister hurled insults like “dogs,” “ingrates,” and “why aren’t you dead yet.” But the brothers, unbothered, didn’t even acknowledge her, which made her furious.

Si Qi stood innocently by the sofa, looking torn—fearful that his brother might cause trouble but still unconditionally supporting him.

Si Lin, seeing how worried his brother was, quickly reassured him: “Don’t worry, brother, I know what I’m doing.”

Si Qi, looking determined, comforted him instead: “Xiao Lin, don’t be afraid. I’m not worried. If anything happens, I’ll figure something out.”

Si Lin: “…”

Memories of his brother’s protection from decades ago surged into his mind. His nose stung, and he softly answered, “Mm,” before murmuring, “As long as brother is here, I’m not afraid of anything.”

Xiu Xiu whispered: [It feels like two great demons competing in acting skills…]

Si Qi sighed helplessly: [Demon? Please. This kid probably never worried about anything but research in his last life. Everyone spoiled him. That’s why he’s so reckless—trying to report them for abuse without even gathering evidence first.]

Xiu Xiu instantly understood: [Got it! I’ll start collecting evidence right away.]

Si Qi: [I remember there are cameras in this building. Last time, when the original owner missed picking her up from school because of tutoring, the aunt slapped him in the stairwell—it should be recorded. And half a year ago, in a phone store, when the original owner refused to hand over his hard-earned money for a new phone, the uncle slapped him in front of everyone. Check if there’s surveillance there; if not, at least eyewitnesses.]

Xiu Xiu clenched his fists just from hearing it: [Don’t worry, Master! I’ll make sure to find every video!]

Si Qi: [Also, gather their spending and income records. Compare them to what they spent on us—it’ll be obvious. We hardly spent anything. The tens of thousands left to us must’ve gone straight into their pockets.]

The little sister, dressed in flashy clothes, with a pampered, arrogant expression, was clearly raised in luxury. She got everything she wanted. Meanwhile, the brothers lived in their school uniforms, their shoes passed down from brother to brother, nobody caring whether they were worn out.

They even taught themselves how to cut each other’s hair with scissors, because they couldn’t afford the ten yuan for a haircut.

The original Si Qi’s current messy “bird’s nest” hairstyle was the masterpiece of his beloved little brother.

At first glance, it looked rather “non-mainstream.”

But Si Qi, the ultimate brother-lover, never thought his brother did anything wrong. To Si Lin, his brother was the most handsome man in the world no matter what. Their shared aesthetic was almost laughable.

Si Qi saw Si Lin sitting calmly on the sofa, arms crossed, watching their little sister cry and scream with great interest. He pulled him into their small room, telling him to do homework instead of provoking her further, not caring how ear-piercing her shrieks were.

Si Lin obediently listened to his brother. If Si Qi told him to go to the room, he went.

The two “hid in their room,” while the little sister, wiping away her tears like a victorious general, angrily picked up the house phone and called her mother, asking her to come home and punish the two “ungrateful and vicious brats.”

But on the call, her mother’s voice was anxious, with her father’s pleading voice faintly audible in the background. Her mother told her they’d be late tonight, urging her to stay home and behave.

The girl, confused and upset, ignored her mother’s urgency and exaggeratedly retold everything, accusing the brothers of trying to hit her, insulting her, and calling authorities to report her parents for abuse and using poppy husks in their hotpot.

Her mother quickly realized the reason for the sudden investigation. Furious, she cursed the boys as heartless beasts over the phone.

But no matter how much she cursed, it was useless. Their hotpot restaurant had already been caught using toxic and illegal food additives, the shop sealed for rectification, and the couple taken for questioning. They now faced huge fines of over a hundred thousand, and possibly prison time.

With solid evidence against them, even begging for mercy wouldn’t help. Caught off guard by this disaster, they cursed the brothers’ ancestors in their hearts a thousand times over.

Black Technology Director Can Make Anything Come True (1): The Life of the Disliked Black Technology System

Because of his long-term dealings with the sealed Object the Mirror of Truth, Si Qi’s lifespan was ultimately damaged.

More than twenty years later, one day, Si Qi lay in Chu Feng’s arms, his breathing growing weaker and weaker. Chu Feng, sensing something, silently gazed at him.

Si Qi looked back at him, the corners of his lips curving into a tender, lingering smile as he reached out to trace the shape of Chu Feng’s face.

Until his very last moment, Chu Feng’s image was etched into his mind. If there truly was reincarnation, he hoped that in the next life, he could recognize Chu Feng early, and when that time came, he would not hesitate again.

Chu Feng personally closed his eyes. His body temperature slowly faded away in Chu Feng’s embrace. Cold tears and kisses fell onto his face, but he could feel nothing. With his death, the evil god’s core within him lost its final space to exist, and once Chu Feng found it, it was completely destroyed. A great amount of world energy flowed back to Xiu Xiu, who then had enough power to take Si Qi away from that world.

After leaving, Si Qi did not know what awaited him after death, nor whether he could ever see Chu Feng again in another world.

As grief overcame him and he knelt in the transmission channel, covering his face and weeping, his strand of consciousness drifted back into the body of the Si Qi who was sitting atop the World Tree, chatting with a group of dragons while eating sunflower seeds.

Si Qi: “……”

He froze, suddenly unable to continue eating the seeds in his hand. Glancing at Chu Feng beside him, he asked: “Has your strand of consciousness returned as well?”

Chu Feng nodded. “I didn’t stay there long.”

After Si Qi’s death, Chu Feng had followed through on their agreement, channeling his power into the divine artifact and leaving that world with him.

Si Qi pressed his lips together, unsure whether he should cry or laugh at that moment.

Although they had just endured a heartbreaking farewell, in the blink of an eye they regained their memories and sat together once again… the feeling was truly strange.

The grief faded, but his deep love for the person beside him only grew stronger. Chu Feng turned, embraced him, placed a kiss on his forehead, and smiled gently.

Xiu Xiu, too, returned to Si Qi’s side with the return of his consciousness.

Seeing that Si Qi was safe, and also noticing Chu Feng beside him, Xiu Xiu let out a huge sigh of relief: [Master, it’s so great that you’re both safe!]

Then Xiu Xiu noticed that this “Lord God’s space” was not the familiar dark tower, but instead an endless giant tree. Perplexed, he said: [Eh, Master, where did Xiu Xiu send you? Isn’t this supposed to be the Lord God’s domain?]

Could it be that the Lord God suddenly decided to redecorate?

“This is indeed the Lord God’s domain,” Si Qi gathered a ball of world energy in his hand and infused it into Xiu Xiu, who was still in his clown-snake form, helping him recover his old appearance, “but it’s not Chu Feng’s Lord God’s domain.”

Overjoyed, Xiu Xiu eagerly absorbed the energy, step by step restoring his data, and soon returned to his former cocky little golden dragon form.

Xiu Xiu asked: [Then whose domain is it? Isn’t there only one Lord God?]

Si Qi smiled. “It’s mine.”

Xiu Xiu was stunned: […What?] Could it be that his Master had finally seized power?!

“What are you thinking? I just found out too—turns out I’m also a Lord God.” Si Qi laughed, glancing at Chu Feng, who returned an amused and helpless look. “I also just realized you didn’t know all this time.”

He had always regarded Si Qi as an equal companion. Otherwise, why would his attitude toward others in the Bureau be so detached, while toward Si Qi he had shown such affection since childhood? Was it really just because the little golden dragon form was cute? Yet Xiu Xiu looked exactly like young Si Qi, and Chu Feng had never treated him with the same care.

The truth was, Chu Feng saw Si Qi as younger and couldn’t help but “slightly” dote on him, which Si Qi secretly interpreted as being treated like a pet. When Chu Feng later learned of this misunderstanding, he was both amused and exasperated.

When Si Qi later left home to join the Quick Travel Bureau, Chu Feng assumed that Si Qi wanted to learn how the Lord God gathered world energy. So he disguised himself to “experience it firsthand,” much like how a child eventually has to learn to walk. It felt natural, and he did not stop him.

Chu Feng chuckled bitterly. “You wield world energy so smoothly, and never thought something was off?”

Take the last world, for example—the evil god, powerful enough to devour an entire universe, was helpless before world energy, beaten as though by an ordinary mortal. That alone showed how difficult it was to control.

Not to mention how Si Qi had repeatedly performed outrageous feats with it, like forcefully splitting two worlds on the verge of merging, or creating an entirely new reincarnation system from nothing. Such things were impossible for a mere Bureau agent.

If that sort of example were common, how could Chu Feng allow agents to freely roam the worlds?

Perhaps sometimes being too clever works against oneself. Si Qi grinned. “I just thought I was so much of a genius that everything came easily.”

His shameless look was irresistibly charming. Chu Feng smiled, eyes full of affection, ruffling his hair. “Yes, you’re a genius. You excel at everything.”

The two were so absorbed in their banter that they almost forgot the earlier topic. Seeing Xiu Xiu hovering nearby, watching with hopeful eyes, Si Qi laughed and continued: “In the world before last, I asked you to send me to the next small world. That world was on the brink of collapse. It reached across space to find me and asked for help. I didn’t think much, and agreed right away.”

Perhaps due to instinct as a Lord God, Si Qi loved saving worlds and fostering their growth. It seemed to be ingrained in him. So when the small world’s consciousness pleaded, he immediately accepted.

Xiu Xiu was moved to tears: [So back then, Master wasn’t kidnapped by something strange, but sent to this world for emergency rescue?]

He remembered how terrified he had been, burning his own life force (world energy) to chase after him, drifting for over ten years to finally reach him.

Si Qi: “Yes. After I arrived, I regained my Lord God identity. Like Chu Feng, my energy was too vast for my true body to enter a small world, so only a strand of instinct-driven consciousness could merge into the body of a being inside.”

That instinct was “saving the world.”

Si Qi: “My body was ejected, standing right here on the World Tree. The next second, I saw you weakly flying toward me, chasing after my consciousness with all your heart. I thought the memoryless me over there might need your help, so I sent you into that small world.”

Xiu Xiu nodded vigorously: [Master even said Xiu Xiu helped a lot back then!]

For a system, nothing was more fulfilling than being useful to its Master.

“After I sent you, Chu Feng received your distress signal and came here. He knew my consciousness had entered that world and lost all memory, so he asked to enter as well. He was placed as the Son of the World, the god about to awaken. As long as I wanted to save the world, I would inevitably encounter him.” Si Qi chuckled. “As soon as I sent him off, we chatted for a bit here, and the next moment the small world’s mission ended, and all memories returned to our true selves—us now.”

Though the last world felt long, for Lord Gods in their own domain, time in small worlds held no real meaning, being entirely subject to their will.

Xiu Xiu finally understood and exclaimed: [So that’s how it was.]

So all his worrying had been for nothing—though wait, his Master suddenly becoming a Lord God was a huge deal in itself!

But Si Qi remained calm. Whether as a Bureau agent or a Lord God, he would do his best. Smiling, he said: “As I said, my body remains here, managing this world. A strand of my consciousness will, as before, follow Chu Feng to continue missions for the Bureau.”

As a new Lord God, Si Qi still had much to learn.

Chu Feng: “I’ll leave a strand of consciousness with you as well.”

Si Qi smiled. “That’s for the best.”

He didn’t want to part from Chu Feng, even if his consciousness had always been at his side.

Then, Si Qi conjured a chair for Xiu Xiu. The two Lord Gods, together with the dragons who had finally welcomed them back, gathered atop the World Tree, chatting happily.

After some time, Si Qi split off a strand of consciousness to join Chu Feng, while Chu Feng left one behind to stay with him. They seemed apart, yet not apart. With Xiu Xiu, Si Qi’s consciousness followed Chu Feng back to his domain.

Returning to that familiar place, Si Qi naturally went to the top of the tower, Chu Feng’s residence. They spent a leisurely time together, and when satisfied, the ever-ambitious Si Qi couldn’t resist heading to the Bureau again, directly seeking out the Supervisor.

“I’d like to take on some special missions,” Si Qi said straightforwardly. “Preferably ones where small worlds are in crisis, on the verge of collapse.”

Having worked in the Bureau for years, he already understood well how to establish the Bureau and reliably harvest world energy.

What he needed now was knowledge of unusual cases, to fill in gaps and learn something new.

The Supervisor loved employees like him—diligent, efficient, and highly capable. With a smile, he happily dumped a troublesome case on Si Qi.

“There aren’t many collapsing worlds, but there are some. Look, this one’s a good example.” He tapped the space before him, extracting a file that floated to Si Qi. “Normally, a small world chooses a Son of the World who’s ruthless for gain and clings to their golden finger no matter what. But in this case, the Son of the World, though selfish and cold, was deeply devoted to the original owner. After getting a golden finger, he tried everything to give it back.”

Scanning the file in an instant, Si Qi raised his brows. “Interesting.”

“Other agents refused to take this mission, so it’s been left sitting here. Since you wanted a special case, I think you’re perfect for it.” The Supervisor tapped precisely on a line in the database and sent it to him. “Here’s the world’s coordinates.”

Xiu Xiu swooped down and gulped the coordinates in one bite, thereby locking onto that world.

After some small talk, Si Qi left the office and, with Xiu Xiu’s help, began the transfer.

Darkness fell, dizziness struck, and when his vision cleared again, Si Qi found himself sitting in a classroom.

Around him, classmates were studying or doing homework diligently. Only the original owner was slouched at the desk, holding a cheap phone, earphones in, openly watching a movie.

The others seemed unfazed, clearly used to this behavior. Even the patrolling teacher lurking outside the window, half his face peeking in, met his eyes calmly, ignoring the phone in his hand.

Si Qi: “……”

Withdrawing his gaze, he lazily yawned.

He felt utterly exhausted, the kind of fatigue that came from staying up several nights in a row until his mind stiffened.

Yet despite being so tired, the original owner still didn’t sleep, choosing instead to watch a movie.

Of course, there was a reason.

Lowering his eyes, Si Qi recalled the original owner’s memories.

The original owner was an orphan. His parents had died young, leaving behind him, then only five years old, and a newborn baby brother. The children were too young to care for themselves, and with no relatives on their parents’ side, the village chief arranged for them to live with an uncle and aunt.

The uncle and aunt, barely in their twenties and newly married, suddenly had two extra children to raise, something they deeply resented. If they had firmly refused, insisting they couldn’t take them, the children might have been placed in a suitable orphanage. But after learning that the deceased parents had left behind hundreds of thousands in inheritance and a house in the city, greed overcame them, and they took the brothers in.

Afterward, they took the money, moved into the house, and hid their gain. To the five-year-old, holding his baby brother, they coldly said how hard their own lives were, that the boys were now unwanted children without parents, and that being given a bite to eat was something they should be grateful for—so they had better not cause trouble.

The elder brother, having just lost his parents and feeling as though the sky had fallen, was filled with helplessness and fear. Holding his newborn brother, though he wanted to cry himself, he still tried to comfort the constantly crying baby.

When the two adults across from them showed disgust the moment they heard a child cry, the older brother didn’t even dare talk back. He was terrified of being kicked out, so he carefully nodded and said he understood. From then on, he lived each day cautiously, watching the moods of those two adults, relying only on his younger brother—who at the time understood nothing—for companionship.

That younger brother, the so-called Son of the World, had grown up in such an environment from the moment he could remember, relying more than anyone on the one person who treated him well—his brother. Whether it was feeding him formula and changing his diapers, washing sheets after he wet the bed, or taking him to the hospital for IV drips when he had a fever, it was always his brother, still just a grade schooler or middle schooler then, who took care of everything.

The older brother treated him incredibly well. Whenever there was something good to eat or drink, he always gave it to his little brother first. Whenever he saw him cry, his heart ached so much that he would cry along with him, wiping his tears while hugging and comforting him, trying everything to cheer him up.

You can always feel whether someone truly cares for you. The younger brother knew better than anyone how good his brother was to him, and just as clearly, how poorly his uncle and aunt treated him. So, instinctively, he never wanted to go to the uncle and aunt for anything—he only went to his brother. Sometimes he even made excessive requests, and though his brother was troubled, he would still nod in agreement and find a way to make it happen, as long as it could make his little brother happy.

Sometimes those wishes were easy to fulfill; sometimes his brother would accidentally get hurt in the process. Though still a child, the younger brother understood enough to know the difference between light and heavy matters. Seeing his brother suffer so much, even getting hurt, just to grant a small wish, he would cry bitterly, choking out “I’m sorry” over and over again.

Because he cried so loudly, the uncle and aunt, already frustrated from work, lashed out and choked and beat him. The older brother immediately rushed forward to shield him, and the younger brother, watching his brother being beaten by two adults, cried even harder, begging them not to hit his brother, saying they should hit him instead. In the end, both children were beaten to a terrible state.

Afterward, the brother told him not to talk back to their uncle and aunt, since they relied on them for food and shelter—they weren’t their real parents and had no obligation to raise them. The younger brother agreed outwardly, but inside he grew darker and more twisted, hating all adults in the world, believing none of them could be trusted.

Those people wouldn’t let his brother get medicine when he had no money. They rolled their eyes and showed disdain when he wore dirty, torn clothes. They believed the lies of the uncle and aunt, thinking that he and his brother were bad children and deserved to be beaten.

He hated this world. He only liked his brother who was good to him.

In such an environment, the brothers grew up slowly. Life was hard, but at least they had a place to live, food to eat, and school to attend. If they could endure those hardest years, their future could eventually get back on track.

But not long ago, the older brother was bound to a black-tech system, which demanded he complete tasks and study hard according to its plan.

Being chosen by such a system showed his intelligence was extraordinarily high. But intelligence didn’t mean he liked studying. Compared to things he could understand at a glance, he much preferred movies and novels—he loved everything related to “stories.”

He used the money he earned tutoring to buy a cheap smartphone, then spent his days reading novels and watching movies at school instead of studying, yet still ranked at the top of the class every time.

The system, like the teachers at school, hated that he wasted his brilliant brain this way. But unlike the gentle teachers, who only advised patiently that studying was the only way forward, the system punished him with electric shocks whenever he slacked off, and played unbearable noises in his head whenever he talked back, keeping him from sleeping and torturing him in every way—all supposedly to “set him on the right path.”

But in this world, there WAS no such logic as “because I think it’s good for you, you must follow my arrangement.” Otherwise, so many parents wouldn’t be distressed that their children hate studying, nor would controlling parents drive their children to death.

Having lived under high pressure since childhood, the original owner hated beatings and torment. With the system claiming it was “for his own good” while punishing him for even the slightest disobedience, he grew to loathe it, refusing to cooperate no matter the torture.

If he gave in, his whole life would be controlled by the system, becoming nothing but its puppet—what a tragic fate! Why should he obey a kidnapper?

The system and the original owner hated each other, but the system couldn’t unbind him or find a new host. So they tormented each other. Sleep-deprived and exhausted, the original owner often dozed off in class, using movies to distract himself.

Later, after school, the system ordered him to buy reference books at the nearby bookstore to prepare for college entrance exams. He ignored it, instead going to buy roasted chicken his younger brother had long wanted to try, planning to surprise him after his hard day studying.

The system was furious that he wasted his earnings on food for his brother instead of studying. It blasted unbearable noise in his mind, like a drill screeching inside his skull, leaving him dazed, his state of mind clearly abnormal.

At that moment, he picked up his brother from school. Holding hands to cross the street, he suddenly saw a truck running the red light straight at them.

Too dazed to react in time, he only managed to push his brother away. With no strength left to dodge himself, he was pulled under the truck’s wheels, half his body crushed into pulp.

His younger brother was terrified, almost driven insane, watching his beloved brother die painfully before his eyes, without even leaving behind any last words.

As always in these worlds, the original owner, through sacrifice or death, passed his golden finger onto the Son of the World.

But unlike selfish Sons of the World in other stories, this one, though selfish, gloomy, and cold to everyone else, was exceptionally good to his brother. Consumed with rage over his brother’s death, he wanted to destroy the cruel world—but then the black-tech system forcibly transferred itself to him.

Losing his brother felt like the sky had collapsed. He couldn’t care less about the supernatural event of the system binding to him. He hated the truck driver, feeling prison was too light a punishment, wishing for blood repayment—or to kill him himself! But the system refused to let its host become a murderer, stopping him by force.

Tormented by the system and in despair, he then discovered the truck driver offered a large sum to settle with their guardians, and their uncle and aunt agreed!

That broke him. He fought and screamed at home, ready to risk his life against them. But what use was it? The uncle and aunt were the legal guardians and signed the settlement. Since the driver wasn’t drunk, the law deemed it an accident. Killing someone in traffic, as long as it wasn’t a hit-and-run, usually led to light sentences—often under three years. With a settlement, he might avoid prison entirely.

His brother was dead, yet the killer could simply pay off their guardians and escape punishment. Was that fair?

He watched his brother’s body cremated, reduced to a box of ashes in his arms, and went mad.

He hated this unjust world and everything in it. Already suffering, the system still preached about helping him gain advanced knowledge, pushing human civilization forward, helping society thrive.

But he didn’t even want revenge on the world—how could he possibly want to help it?

When he understood how the system operated, he realized it had indirectly caused his brother’s dazed state before the accident—he believed it had killed him.

Now filled with hostility toward the system, having already endured the worst pain in the world, he no longer cared about its punishments—electrocution, mental torment, forced sleeplessness, nothing worked. He only wanted to exploit the system’s knowledge base to invent world-destroying technology, to bury the entire world with his brother.

The system panicked, realizing torture was useless. It softened its approach, telling him its database contained time-travel technology, and promised him this if he completed his tasks.

Hearing this, the Son of the World finally endured, step by step becoming a great scientist and entrepreneur under the system’s guidance. In his fifties, after gaining fame and wealth, he finally obtained time-travel technology.

The system hoped this would change him, helping him reconcile with the world. But his nature remained the same: selfish, caring only for himself.

After decades of achievements and global admiration, he still couldn’t heal from his childhood scars.

Once he unlocked time-travel, he abandoned all his accomplishments without hesitation, sending his consciousness back to the past—to when his brother was alive and the system was still bound to him—and saved his brother from the truck.

But because of this, all his lifetime achievements vanished, everything reset.

Still, had he stayed on track and shared his knowledge with the world, his influence might have come sooner, even greater.

But because his brother survived, the golden finger system remained with him instead of transferring to the Son of the World.

Unlike his brother, who pursued goals at any cost, willing to spend decades or a lifetime for a purpose, the original owner was naturally unrestrained, disliking research. Though brilliant, he had no interest in science and hated the system’s constant push to study, especially with its electric punishments.

After rebirth, the younger brother, knowing his brother’s distress, resolutely chose to strategize against the system, helping free his brother from its grip. He gave no regard to the system that had accompanied him for decades, pouring all his energy into outsmarting it so his brother could live freely.

Thus, a system capable of changing the course of civilization was “wasted” by the two brothers.

If world consciousness could speak, it would curse, regretting having chosen such a host, calling it shooting itself in the foot.

But for the younger brother, as long as his brother lived safely, everything was worth it. Even if it meant sacrificing a lifetime of effort, giving up wealth and glory, and wasting his life’s work—it didn’t matter.

As long as his brother lived, everything was worth it.

After reading this worldline summary, Si Qi noticed the original owner’s situation was unusual. Although he had died, thanks to the Son of the World’s efforts, he had another chance to live. Normally, the Bureau wouldn’t select such an identity for substitution.

Finding it strange, Si Qi asked Xiu Xiu to confirm with colleagues at the Bureau if there had been a mistake. The colleagues assured him everything was arranged, explaining that after the Son of the World returned to the past, he couldn’t bear to let his brother die of old age, so he repeated the time-travel thousands of times, driving the world’s consciousness nearly insane.

Si Qi was half amused, half speechless: [He really has persistence. And then?]

Colleague: [Then he couldn’t withstand the endless cycles, living in unbearable pain. His brother sensed something was wrong and asked, but he hid it until finally, before breaking down, he confessed the truth.]

[His brother’s reply made him feel even worse. His brother said: “I don’t want you to lose your life for me. From the start, you should never have sacrificed your own happiness for me. And you repeated it tens of thousands of times—I feel so sad and distressed.”]

[The Son of the World reacted violently, realizing all his suffering was only self-satisfaction, since his brother never wanted it. Yet he couldn’t stop either, couldn’t watch his brother die. His brother couldn’t persuade him, couldn’t erase his torment, and feared that in the next cycle he would hide it again and suffer alone. Both brothers were trapped in pain.]

Si Qi slowly understood: [So you made a “deal” with the older brother.]

Colleague: [Yes. The older brother asked us to persuade his brother during his first time-travel, making him believe the system and his brother were getting along well, that his brother lived happily, and that his brother was strong enough to even find him after death. This way, the Son of the World would stop time-traveling. Meanwhile, we took the older brother’s soul to the Lord God’s realm, promising that after the Son of the World’s death, they would reunite there and could even choose a small world to live together for a lifetime.]

Si Qi smiled: [That’s pretty good too.]

A colleague complained: [It’s only thanks to Lord God’s mercy, otherwise who would ever do such a losing business.]

Si Qi smiled even more happily: [That’s exactly why I like him so much.]

The colleague felt that what Si Qi said sounded a little strange. [Uh…] He muttered inwardly: Like? Shouldn’t it be reverence? 047’s tastes were really heavy!

At that moment, after Si Qi arrived in the world, the system inside the original owners mind suddenly shouted loudly: [Who are you!]

First it was an evil god, now it was a black-tech system. The consciousness space in Si Qi’s last two worlds was livelier than ever before. The stern-faced black-tech system shouted at Xiu Xiu, startling him. Xiu Xiu shrank back instinctively and whimpered: [Wuwu, don’t be fierce to Xiu Xiu QAQ!]

Then Xiu Xiu suddenly remembered this was his master’s consciousness space. With his master above him as protection, even when his master had no memories, he could still defeat the evil god head-on. Would he really be afraid of a tiny black-tech system now? His timid little face immediately turned cocky, and he snapped at the black-tech system: [Who are you! This is Xiu Xiu’s turf!! You have to listen to Xiu Xiu!]

The black-tech system was tiny, pitch-black from head to toe, looking a bit like the relative of a certain famous actor from a neighboring drama crew. Fierce-looking and extremely domineering, it acted and spoke with strict seriousness. Hearing this, it didn’t hesitate to raise its finger, firing a bolt of lightning at Xiu Xiu.

[First-level punishment!]

Xiu Xiu panicked and tried to dodge, but clumsy as he was, he couldn’t escape the lightning-fast strike. With a “crack,” it hit him.

[Ah! That hurts!!]

Xiu Xiu howled as if his guts were split apart. With tears in his eyes, he was just about to run to Si Qi for help, when he realized…

Huh, he didn’t feel anything at all???

With teary eyes, Xiu Xiu turned to glance at his little butt. The scales where he had been struck didn’t even have a scratch. He looked carefully but couldn’t find any trace of injury.

This…

Xiu Xiu was dumbfounded.

The black-tech system stared in disbelief at this weak-looking little thing. Furious, it shouted again: [Third-level punishment!]

“Crackle—”

An even larger bolt of lightning shot at Xiu Xiu. He curled up into a ball in fright, running while crying out for his master to save him.

But before he could finish, the lightning struck him again at lightning speed.

Xiu Xiu: […]

Xiu Xiu: [???]

Looking completely bewildered, Xiu Xiu raised his head and asked the black-tech system: [Did you hit me?]

Black-tech system: […]

Xiu Xiu, unconsciously fanning the flames: [Did you? Why don’t I feel anything at all??]

Black-tech system: ………………

Black-tech system: [Waaahhhhh!!]

The black-tech system shrieked in rage, furious beyond measure: [Third-level punishment! Third-level punishment! Third-level punishment!!]

Dozens of lightning bolts rained down on Xiu Xiu, but he just looked blankly at the “light beams” hitting him, not feeling a thing, even swishing his tail. Slowly, his cautious expression turned arrogant.

Alright, he finally figured it out. This system born in the small world, compared to him, a system produced by Lord God himself, was nothing but a little brother!

Bullying the native humans of this world with electric punishments to force obedience might work a little. But against Xiu Xiu, whose body was 99.99% made up of world power, such threats were weaker than a tickle—completely useless!

Didn’t the evil god in the last world also have no way to deal with him after catching him? The more Xiu Xiu thought about it, the prouder he became. With swaggering steps like a big shot, he walked up to the black-tech system, who was so angry it was hopping mad, and with a “smack” of his tail, he sent the little black figure flying.

Arrogantly, he said: [You little trash, you dare provoke Lord Xiu! Do you still dare act arrogant now?!]

Si Qi glanced at the interaction between Xiu Xiu and the black-tech system, his lips curling in amusement.

He shifted his posture from lying on the desk looking at his phone, letting out a big yawn. Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at the desk piled high with textbooks and test papers, then back at the phone in his hand.

Perhaps due to the influence of the original owner’s personality, Si Qi had no interest in books at all. He thought all this stuff, where the answers could be seen at a glance, was boring and tedious, nowhere near as interesting as the rich, dramatic ups and downs of movies.

In fact, even without the original owner’s influence, Si Qi truly had little interest in knowledge he had already read countless times. He felt there was no need to look at it again. On the contrary, the movie in front of him, something he had never watched before, piqued his interest more.

After all, stories were different from exercises. With exercises, you saw the answer at once—nothing would change no matter what, so doing them was just a waste of time. But watching stories was like a massage for the soul, always giving people all kinds of different emotional experiences. Following the characters through joy or sorrow, anger or satisfaction—this kind of enjoyment was something no amount of knowledge points could bring. Otherwise, why would so many people dislike studying but love entertainment? It was human nature, only stronger in the original owner.

Si Qi happily finished watching a movie while lying on the desk. In the consciousness space, Xiu Xiu had just finished pummeling the black-tech system with a set of baby punches, and was now bickering with the furious system.

To call it bickering wasn’t quite accurate—it was more like the black-tech system carefully probing into Xiu Xiu’s origins, while Xiu Xiu, oblivious to being tricked, proudly tried to act like a boss. The two systems were talking at cross purposes, but somehow kept the conversation going. Eventually, the black-tech system finally realized the severity of the situation. Sitting on the ground blankly, it muttered to itself: “My mission… my purpose for existence…”

If it couldn’t defeat this golden dragon who called himself Xiu Xiu, if it couldn’t threaten this absurdly lazy host into diligently studying and advancing, then how could it make him learn the vast knowledge stored in the database and promote the civilization of this world?

For a system that was born solely to complete missions, nothing was more painful than being unable to fulfill one.

It was like forbidding a glutton from eating, forbidding a gamer from playing new games, or forbidding a miser from making money—it was maddening.

The system felt like it was on the verge of collapse. It raised its voice again and again, trying to communicate with the host of this body, persuading Si Qi to study hard and make progress every day, telling him about all the benefits of learning, and how powerful it was as a system…

Threats, bribes—every trick it could think of, it had tried. But Si Qi simply ignored it.

If persuasion really worked, then parents all over the world wouldn’t be so desperate when trying to get their children to study.

Seeing how impervious Si Qi was, the system was brought to tears.

How could such a person even exist! Whether it was death threats, temptations of money and power, or even lofty speeches about family, nation, and world, trying to move him with morality—he remained completely unmoved!

The system felt bitter, exhausted, and wished it could just perish together with this damned human!

But as soon as it blurted this vicious thought out loud, it was pummeled by that weakling golden dragon who only knew how to throw baby punches.

It didn’t hurt at all, but its pride was deeply insulted. The usually strict and cold black-tech system felt as if the whole world was against it, and for a moment, it nearly wanted to self-destruct and end everything.

At that moment, Si Qi looked at the dejected, despairing system and said: [If you want me to complete the mission, it’s not impossible.]

The system’s eyes lit up: [Really?]

Heaven bear witness—this was the very first time the black-tech system, always authoritative and intolerant of defiance, had humbled itself so lowly to beg a human to complete its mission.

Usually, it was others who wept tears of joy at being chosen by it, following its plan step by step toward the pinnacle of life, grateful to have encountered such a golden finger in their lifetime…

Yet the human before it kept rejecting and resisting. Truly bizarre.

Si Qi: [But the way I complete the mission must be decided by me.]

The system grew wary: [The mission plan I’ve arranged for you is the one most suited to this world’s situation. It is the most rational, most effective, and the safest path to success.]

Si Qi: [Whether it’s safe or effective has nothing to do with me. I only care whether my life is happy, whether I live the life I want. Don’t force your so-called grand principles on me.]

The system was displeased, its voice sharp: [Your thinking is too selfish!]

Si Qi raised an eyebrow: [And you’re not selfish? Aren’t you tormenting me constantly, electrocuting me, and threatening me with death over and over—just to complete your mission?]

The system stomped its feet: [I’m doing it for the world!]

Si Qi sneered: [As if that’s true. If your programmed mission was to destroy the world, what would you do?]

The black-tech system was instantly struck dumb.

Si Qi: [You would, without hesitation, choose the most “suitable” human host and use your so-called efficient, safe, and highly successful method to help that person destroy the world. From beginning to end, all you care about is completing your mission. Isn’t that right?]

The black-tech system lowered its head in silence.

Si Qi: [So in truth, it’s you who, for the sake of your mission, are forcing me to obey, making me work my whole life toward your task. Don’t act like you’re the noble one and I’m the petty one. Remember clearly: I was parasitized by you for no reason, forced to follow your orders, punished by your electric shocks over and over, and deprived of sleep for days. Do you know how torturous that is for a human? Of course you know—you did it on purpose. I hate you. I despise you. Isn’t that perfectly reasonable?]

The black-tech system, a little aggrieved and unwilling, said: [But my purpose is good!]

Si Qi: [And what does that have to do with me? Just because others may benefit from your existence, does that mean I should live my whole life in agony for you and for the rest of the world? Just because I was “lucky” enough to be chosen by you, I should sacrifice my dreams, give up my life, do things I don’t want, and live like a walking corpse, in constant misery?]

The system struggled in desperation: [You must think of the humans who lost a better life because of you! Because of you, all humanity can’t advance further. You are guilty! You owe the people of this world!]

Si Qi smiled, though his smile carried a strange chill: [Think of those people who would happily watch me suffer all my life, so long as they could live better themselves? Apologize to those parasites who resent me for not letting them suck me dry for a lifetime because of my “selfish” decision? Is that what you’re trying to say?]

The system: […] Damn it, why was this human so good with words!

Xiu Xiu floated nearby, watching Si Qi negotiate with the system. He thought his master was truly amazing. Clearly, Si Qi’s favorite thing in life was helping worlds progress, and his whole purpose in coming here was to complete missions. Yet now he spoke as if he never intended to do so, easily suppressing the black-tech system, seizing both initiative and control of the conversation.

Si Qi: [I know you have some value, so I’m willing to cooperate and complete the mission you set. But remember—it’s you asking me for help, not the other way around. I will decide how to accomplish the mission, and you must respect my choices. Understand?]

[…]

Knowing that this human yielded only to reason and not force, and realizing force was useless, the black-tech system stayed silent for a long time before reluctantly saying: [Fine then. How do you plan to complete the mission?]

After being battered by Si Qi’s words, the black-tech system could no longer keep up its domineering front. Now, it only hoped that Si Qi was at least willing to help with the mission—that alone was already good enough. It dared not demand more, for fear of pushing Si Qi too far and making him abandon it altogether. That would leave it with no choice but to cry in despair.

Excitement flickered in Si Qi’s eyes. With eager longing, he voiced the original owner’s greatest wish: [I want to make movies!!]

The black-tech system’s eyes widened in disbelief: [—What????]

A world polluted by evil gods (16): Dust settles

Squish — the sound of mashed flesh.

Si Qi felt a tingling sensation under his foot. Looking down, he saw a mess of a squashed worm struggling to crawl out from beneath his sole, inching its way toward the darkness of his consciousness.

Si Qi thrust his sword into its body. The worm shrieked and writhed in pain, clearly suffering, but it just wouldn’t die.

Xiu Xiu: [That’s probably the true form of the evil god, huh? It’s really tenacious.]

Si Qi: [How do I kill it completely?]

Xiu Xiu, bewildered: [Huh? I don’t know either.]

Si Qi: […………]

Xiu Xiu quickly said: [I’ll go ask the World Consciousness and see what it suggests!]

Si Qi raised an eyebrow. What even is this World Consciousness?

A few seconds later, Xiu Xiu muttered: [The World Consciousness says you just need to drive It out of the consciousness space, or wait for the consciousness space to disappear. Once It loses the soil to survive and is exposed before the Lord God, that will be enough.]

Si Qi: [By “consciousness space disappearing,” you mean I have to die, right?]

What a joke. He had already defeated the evil god — how could Si Qi possibly die so easily? Even if there was only the slimmest chance, he had to live.

Xiu Xiu cautiously said: [But as long as the evil god dies, the world mission will be completed, and you’ll gain a huge amount of World Power. You’ll be able to return to the Tower of the Lord God…]

Si Qi didn’t agree to Xiu Xiu’s suggestion. To him, everything about it was unknown — it was simply too risky.

He opened his eyes and immediately said something that nearly scared his family to death: “Chu Feng, the evil god is still inside me.”

Chu Feng had been leaning dazedly against the wall. His eyes were bloodshot, and a layer of dark stubble had grown on his chin — he looked desolate. When he saw Si Qi finally awake, he rushed over, grabbing his hand, his own trembling uncontrollably.

Hearing Si Qi’s words, he said, “Let me take a look.”

Divine power spread into Si Qi’s body, and Si Qi saw white light envelop his consciousness space, revealing the ruin within.

The light shone on the maggot-like creature, but it only made it uncomfortable — it curled up to escape the light. It couldn’t be killed completely.

Chu Feng said, “I can sense a black force inside you.”

Si Qi: “Can you get it out?”

Chu Feng frowned and thought for a long time before replying seriously, “…I’ll find a way. I definitely will.”

Seeing this, Si Qi understood and tried to comfort him: “No rush. It’s still there, but it can’t harm me.”

With the World Power pressing down on it, the evil god couldn’t do anything — at most, it just kept cursing and swearing, making people irritable.

Luckily, Si Qi was used to this sort of thing.

“How can we not worry!” Si Qi’s mother burst into tears, covering her face. “You child… why did you keep this from your family? Do you know how afraid we were something might happen to you…”

Si Qi snapped back to reality and suddenly realized his secret identity had been exposed. His expression went blank for a moment.

Then… that means Chu Feng also saw him switching personalities and getting jealous of himself…

Si Qi was speechless. He glanced silently at Igor, who was watching him with red-rimmed, tear-filled eyes. Si Qi couldn’t say a word of blame — he could only whisper, “I’m sorry.”

The marquis’s family looked at Si Qi with complex expressions. “You were at home every day… even during the last natural disaster, you stayed by our side the entire time. What’s going on…”

Si Qi: “That was a substitute.”

The marquis’s wife cried even harder: “I couldn’t even tell my own child apart…”

Si Qi comforted her: “He’s basically a child who grew up at your side. He’s spent more time with you than I have. I’ll bring Ander to see you later. He really loves you all.”

The marchioness wiped her tears and, for a moment, couldn’t bring herself to say, “That’s not our child.” After all, that boy had always been so thoughtful and sensible.

The marquis spoke up. “Will you keep doing this kind of thing? Your mother worries about you.”

Si Qi replied, “The evil god is no longer a threat. There won’t be anything that dangerous again…”

All he needed to do now was, like before, carefully contain the forbidden objects scattered across the world and seal them away where humans couldn’t reach. One day, this world would be completely free from the evil god’s shadow, and humanity would be able to live safely.

Especially now that the gods of this world had reawakened.

Si Qi glanced at Chu Feng, then quickly looked away guiltily when Chu Feng noticed his gaze. He turned to Igor and asked, “How are things outside?”

“Three days before the evil god descended, forbidden objects flooded the entire capital. We were understaffed and locked in bitter battle. A week later, after the evil god died—or rather, was defeated—you fell into a coma. The contamination stopped, and no new forbidden objects have emerged since. Chu Feng and I contained them one by one, and finally got the situation under control today… You’ve been unconscious for two days.”

“A week?” So he had been fighting the evil god in the consciousness space for an entire week? That kind of high-intensity battle—one small mistake and he would’ve been devoured from the inside out—no wonder Si Qi felt so exhausted in the end. It was sheer overwork.

Si Qi asked, “What about overseas?”

Igor responded, “Forbidden objects experienced a power surge as well, displaying extreme agitation. Fortunately, nothing major happened. The members stationed abroad joined forces and suppressed them.”

Si Qi nodded and tried to sit up, but his body didn’t respond in sync with his consciousness, leaving him clumsy and too weak to move.

“You silly child, just lie down. You need to rest,” the marchioness said, tending to her “frail” son with practiced ease. Si Qi instinctively complied, but then remembered that things were different now. He retrieved a few pink potions from the World Tree’s leaves and drank them. The soul-deep fatigue, like having stayed up several nights in a row, finally faded away. He sat up normally and told the marchioness, “Don’t worry. I’m fine.”

Seeing the sudden change in Si Qi with her own eyes, the marchioness thought of the countless times she’d been told by useless doctors, “The young lord’s condition hasn’t improved,” and then remembered how the very same people had just claimed, “The Commander has always been in good health. He’s just too mentally drained to wake up.” It should’ve been a relief, but she suddenly felt a bit stifled. She lightly thumped her son’s shoulder, not knowing whether to be happy or angry.

The congressman, meanwhile, curiously eyed the glass bottles beside Si Qi. Though he was a well-informed man, it was rare to witness something so mysterious in person. He asked, “Will continuing to use this kind of power harm you? I heard people say that your condition was due to being exposed to too many sealed objects…”

Si Qi replied, “This isn’t a sealed object.”

He didn’t know how to explain the difference to his older brother and fell into silence. Chu Feng stepped in to smooth things over, saying, “The Commander’s soul condition looks better than before.”

Everyone instinctively glanced to their sides but didn’t see the black-and-white blob.

Previously, due to severe contamination, a black-and-white blob had been floating beside them. After the situation was brought under control, the blob—supposedly representing the soul—disappeared. When Chu Feng mentioned it again, they momentarily panicked, thinking it had reappeared.

Si Qi looked at Chu Feng, confused. Chu Feng hesitated for a moment, then explained, “Didn’t you always say I had special eyes that could find a way out even in the most dangerous situations? Actually, I can see things others can’t.”

Si Qi didn’t react at first. After a moment, he processed the meaning behind Chu Feng’s words, and his whole body stiffened. “You mean… you’ve been able to see our souls all along?!”

Chu Feng replied, “…Yeah.”

Under the puzzled stares of everyone else, Si Qi’s face slowly turned red. He looked at Chu Feng with a mix of resentment and embarrassment, gritting his teeth. “So you knew who I was from the very beginning…”

Chu Feng awkwardly rubbed his nose. “That’s right.”

Si Qi: ……………

More embarrassing than being exposed in public was hearing the person say, “I always knew who you were. I also knew you were switching identities and acting like different people in front of me.”

Even someone like the Commander—who had faced countless crises and whose mental state was usually rock solid—couldn’t handle that kind of blow.

He sent Chu Feng away to deal with the remaining chaos left behind by the evil god and stayed behind in his room to slowly digest the overwhelming shame. Only after a long while did he emerge again to the surprise and delight of the enforcers waiting outside, ready to dive into the tedious cleanup work.

Life gradually returned to normal, though many things had undeniably changed.

First of all, the entire imperial capital had heard of the evil god’s descent. They now knew that the marquis’s frail, reclusive young son was actually the legendary commander of the Temple Knights.

One was a gentle, well-mannered child pitied by countless nobles. The other was a ruthless savior whose power even royalty dared not challenge. The gap between these two identities was so vast that many found it hard to believe the news was true.

That is, until a daring journalist managed to capture a photo of Si Qi and Chu Feng battling while he was possessed by the evil god. Once it was published in the latest issue of the newspaper, the public had no choice but to accept the truth.

At the same time, the enforcers who had long operated in secret across the globe, quietly containing forbidden objects, no longer needed to hide. They began appearing in public, asking for cooperation and warning civilians to avoid areas with forbidden objects.

People were stunned to realize how many individuals had been part of the legion all along. More and more aliases were shed, just like they had done countless times in the past—guiding the public to work with the enforcers to contain forbidden objects hidden within their countries, one after another.

What followed was people gradually realizing, far too late, that they had always been living under the protection of these individuals. All those strange incidents that had happened around them in the past—turns out it was these people who had stepped in and saved them behind the scenes. As this awareness spread, gratitude toward the legion and the enforcers only grew stronger.

At that point, the legion’s various bases around the world—namely the churches—naturally came into the public eye. Whenever people encountered anything that might be a forbidden object, they could now seek help at a temple church. This significantly reduced global death rates and improved the survival chances of ordinary people.

The statues of this world’s gods standing within the churches began to draw more and more faith from the masses. As a result, the divine power Chu Feng received became increasingly vast. He could clearly feel the growth of that power—he could even sense a prayer from a follower on the other side of the world, even with his eyes closed. Those prayers filled Chu Feng’s consciousness like snowflakes, either pure white or murky in color.

Whenever he saw a soul darkened by corruption, Chu Feng would intentionally use divine power to cleanse it.

Over time, some followers noticed that the whispers of the evil god near their ears had vanished. They no longer felt the constant impulse to kill or destroy everything around them, and their minds became clear once again.

Once the prayers truly began to take effect, more and more people around the world sincerely turned to worship the gods of the temple, offering Chu Feng increasingly devout faith. This began a virtuous cycle. With Si Qi’s encouragement, Chu Feng began attempting to craft “divine artifacts.” Just as forbidden objects, when corrupted by the evil god, could gain strange abilities, these divine artifacts could suppress forbidden objects and cleanse the corruption within human bodies.

The artifacts were gradually distributed to priests at churches around the world, which greatly alleviated Chu Feng’s burden of having to help so many followers by himself.

With his hands finally freed, Chu Feng’s first priority was to deal with the enforcers.

These were people who had spent years walking in darkness, fighting on the front lines against the evil god—many of them were already halfway into their graves, struggling to survive. Now that Chu Feng could purify souls and eliminate corruption, the first people he had to save were these human heroes.

Batch by batch, enforcers were pulled back from the brink of madness and regained their sanity. When they looked back on the mental state they had been in for the past few years, it felt like a dream—nothing seemed real.

The psychologists who had begun to rise in prominence in recent years nearly lost their jobs because of this. They couldn’t tell the difference between mental illness and soul corruption. Most of them ended up switching to theological studies, muttering mystical theories all day long. The news shocked quite a few people.

Time passed in an orderly fashion. A few years later, the vast majority of forbidden objects had been contained by the temple. Aside from a few remnants of evil god worshippers who still attempted terror attacks and stirred up occasional trouble, society had largely returned to stability. The previously skyrocketing death toll began to slow at a visible rate, all thanks to the joint efforts of Si Qi, Chu Feng, and the entire legion.

Once order had been restored, Si Qi was persuaded by Igor and the others to rest again.

While the other enforcers had their souls cleansed and no longer needed to worry, Si Qi—who still carried the evil god’s core inside him—had to remain vigilant against corruption, constantly suppressing the “demon” and making sure it never broke free.

A few days ago, one evil god cult, driven into a corner, attempted to strike back hard.

Si Qi went to the scene, but fell into a trap. Nothing serious happened, just that he became irritable. He dragged Chu Feng to a nearby church, and under the watchful gaze of the divine statue (which was also Chu Feng, technically)… well, he relieved his emotions.

While saying things like “You need to watch me, don’t let me do anything bad,” he also made very bad threats to Chu Feng, telling him not to resist.

Incidents like this had occurred several times over the years. Chu Feng started to wonder if, after his identity as the Commander was revealed, Si Qi was just too embarrassed to openly ask for intimacy—so he found a new excuse. After all, every time… afterward, Si Qi’s mood would be noticeably better, showing no signs of restraint or instability—like a perfectly normal person.

So one day, Chu Feng boldly asked, “Were you letting yourself lose control on purpose?”

Si Qi stared at him in disbelief for a long time. The next second, he snapped out of it and reached for his sword.

Chu Feng quickly begged for mercy and dodged away, saying, “We’re already engaged, but you still haven’t told me you love me. You haven’t even tried to be in a proper relationship with me. Are you just treating me as free… company?”

The overly blunt question made the great Commander blush with a mix of anger and embarrassment. “If you don’t want to, then I won’t come to you next time!”

Chu Feng looked hurt and said, “That’s not what I meant… I just meant that we could still go through with the wedding we planned back then…”

Si Qi fell silent. Chu Feng reached out to take his hand—and as expected, wasn’t pushed away. “I really love you. Not the version of you pretending to be a teenager. From the beginning, I’ve always loved the Commander. I think, when you told me you liked me back then, you weren’t pretending either. Right?”

Si Qi silently looked at Chu Feng. Chu Feng lowered his head and gently kissed the back of Si Qi’s hand. “Next time… even if you don’t lose control, can I still stay with you overnight?”

Si Qi’s ears turned red. He muttered softly, “…Up to you.”

Even though he still wasn’t quite used to how it felt to be without his mask, under Chu Feng’s guidance, Si Qi eventually began to live a more normal life.

In his quiet moments, Si Qi often thought about many things—about Chu Feng’s divine nature, and about his own limited lifespan as a mortal. The worry he had long carried—“I’ll die before Chu Feng”—came back to him again in this new context.

Xiu Xiu once said that both he and Chu Feng were beings from other worlds and didn’t need to worry about life and death. But when Si Qi saw more and more gray hairs on his parents’ heads, saw their bodies slowly weakening, he began to fear that one day, Chu Feng would have to experience the same grief he now felt.

“You don’t need to worry about that.” As the god of this world, Chu Feng could sense the thoughts of every one of his followers—including Si Qi. Chu Feng said to him, “Once you’re gone, I’ll completely destroy the evil god still inside you. After that, my duty as a god will be fulfilled. I’ll live only for myself. I’ll pour all my divine power into the artifacts to protect this world, then leave with you.”

“But you could’ve lived forever,” Si Qi whispered.

“I’d rather be with you through reincarnation, living on as a mortal by your side,” Chu Feng replied. “You once said that the little snake in your mind would lead you to another world. I don’t want to stay here alone. Maybe we’ll find each other again in the next world.”

“But… what if that never happens? What if you can’t find me in another world…”

“But you want to see me again, don’t you?” Chu Feng smiled. “As long as you’ve said that, it’s enough. No matter how difficult it is, I’ll make it happen.”

Si Qi didn’t say anything more. He quietly hugged him.

“I think I’ve fallen in love with you all over again. And this time, I’m sure—this feeling isn’t caused by the evil god’s corruption.”

Chu Feng smiled and kissed Si Qi on the ear. “It’s a request from your god.”

A world polluted by evil gods (15): Evil God: Don’t join forces to bully a God like this!

The scene fell into an eerie silence. Everyone stared at Igor in disbelief as they recognized him as the regiment commander’s assistant. The shock in their eyes was impossible to hide.

Igor said, “The commander has been in contact with sealed objects for years and has endured far more contamination than anyone else. Of course his condition would be more severe than ours.”

It was just that no one had expected that Si Qi’s condition had already deteriorated to such an extent.

All the enforcers present fell silent. The ordinary people who didn’t understand the situation—especially the duke’s daughter—cried out in a mix of shock and anger, “What do you mean? How could Si Qi possibly be the commander of the Temple Knights?!”

“Look at how timid he is. There’s no way he could be the legendary commander! What qualifications does he have?!”

“Don’t be fooled by this guy! Hurry up and kill Si Qi!!”

“Aren’t you enforcers? Aren’t you the knights who are supposed to protect us? Do it now!!”

Someone tried to grab an enforcer’s sleeve, only to have it impatiently shaken off.

Many of the enforcers looked toward the deputy commander. Seeing the deputy commander nod expressionlessly, everyone exchanged complicated looks and turned their gazes back to the ferocious monster, asking the now entirely monster-covered Si Qi, “Commander, what should we do now?”

The ordinary people saw the enforcers’ reactions and were inwardly shaken by the authority the commander of the Temple Knights held. Scenes of the obedient, fragile Si Qi from the past flashed through their minds, and their expressions became extremely complex.

At that moment, Si Qi no longer had the energy to deal with anything else. He said directly, “Leave this to me. You all evacuate the civilians safely and stop anyone from approaching.”

This time, his voice no longer held the softness or gentleness of the past—only the cold, efficient tone the enforcers were most familiar with.

The marquis and marchioness jolted in shock, staring at their youngest son in disbelief, their eyes full of doubt and confusion.

The congressman looked at Si Qi with a scrutinizing gaze, suspecting that his younger brother had been switched out—after all, the effects of forbidden objects were often bizarre and unpredictable. During the earlier battle, he had witnessed countless strange powers. Becoming someone else entirely didn’t seem so impossible.

The other enforcers quickly sprang into action, carrying off the still-stunned civilians and rushing out.

Igor suddenly remembered something. He pulled out a half vial of pink potion from his pocket and said to Si Qi, “One of the potions you gave me last time—this one helps reduce mental contamination. Please drink it quickly!”

Si Qi stood still. “Put it in my hand.”

Igor sensed something and, while fumbling to find Si Qi’s hand, asked anxiously, “You can’t see anymore?”

Si Qi replied, “I can’t see—what color is it?”

“Pink,” Igor answered, eyes full of worry as he stared at the monster in front of him. Just as he was about to ask something else, a chill shot up his spine. Thousands of sharp needles stabbed into his mind. He groaned and collapsed, body curling in on itself.

Chu Feng realized something was wrong and quickly stood in front of the stunned marquis family, shielding them. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the massive monster roar furiously and suddenly grow to three or four times its original size. Its now-solid tail lashed down onto the marble floor, shattering it into countless fragments.

“Xiao Qi!!” the marquise instinctively cried out her son’s name, only to see a maddened monster with a pair of blood-red, inhuman eyes. Tears streamed uncontrollably down her face. The pitiful woman, who had held on until now, finally couldn’t bear the blow and collapsed unconscious.

“Get them out of here.” Passing the family to some nearby enforcers, Chu Feng turned and rushed toward Si Qi.

As he turned, he saw Igor being struck midair by the monster. He reached out and caught him before he hit the ground.

Once Igor landed safely, he tried to approach the now-mad Si Qi again, but Chu Feng stopped him. “Take everyone and leave this place.”

“But the commander—”

“Now! Take everyone and leave this place!” Chu Feng’s tone was stern and commanding. “Do your job, Igor.”

Igor looked at Chu Feng, then turned his gaze to the increasingly terrifying monster. His eyes were bloodshot as he clenched his teeth and turned to run.

Outside, chaos had erupted. The pollution of the descending evil god had barely begun to spread for half a minute, but the street already resembled hell.

The street lamps and potted devil’s ivy by the windows all came to life and began attacking passersby. Terrified screams rang out as a woman was lifted into the air by vines entangled in her hair, kicking helplessly and crying out in pain.

Igor took two running steps and leapt onto a nearby phone booth. He drew a dagger from his chest, lunged forward, and grabbed the woman in midair, slicing through the vine wrapped around her hair.

Both of them fell. Igor shielded the woman with his body as they hit the ground, letting out a low grunt of pain.

The rescued woman looked up, trembling. Her eyes were filled with tears. She wanted to thank the brave gentleman, but when she saw his youthful face and the deep pain and helplessness in his eyes, the words of thanks suddenly turned into, “Are you okay? You look really upset.”

Igor didn’t speak. After getting up, he pulled her along as they ran, rescuing many panicked civilians along the way. Seeing his abilities, the crowd instinctively followed him. Together, they fled the corrupted area and reached the edge of the street, where the marquis family had been waiting.

The congressman rushed over first, grabbing his hand. “Where’s Xiao Qi? Why didn’t you bring him out?!”

Choked with emotion, Igor said, “I’m sorry, I…”

The marquis anxiously asked, “What happened to Xiao Qi? I thought I saw him just now…”

Igor replied, “The commander has lost his mind. The evil god… the evil god has descended upon him.”

It took a full second for the marquis family to associate the word “commander” with their own child. “Then what should we do? Can the evil god be driven out? You’re not going to hurt Xiao Qi, are you?!”

Igor’s lips trembled. Suddenly, he covered his face and burst into tears. “I don’t know, I…”

His feelings for Si Qi were no less than those of the marquis family. In fact, in terms of time spent together, he had been by Si Qi’s side far longer. Being pressed about Si Qi’s condition while feeling, deep down, that Si Qi might never return, caused Igor’s emotions to collapse. He could no longer hold it together.

He cried and said, “Why is it always the commander who has to go through this? He finally managed to survive, so why can’t he even be given a chance to spend his last days in peace… What did he ever do wrong to deserve this… why must it be like this…”

The deputy commander heard Igor’s voice from afar. Seeing him completely lose control and sob loudly in front of so many enforcers, he walked over and said, “Get a grip on yourself, Igor. We already have enough to deal with. I don’t want to have to clean up your mess on top of everything else.”

The marquis family, who had rarely been involved in such events, didn’t understand how dangerous it was for enforcers to lose control of their emotions. Hearing the deputy commander’s cold words, they couldn’t help but frown.

Igor forced himself to rein in his emotions, roughly wiping away the tears on his face. His eyes looked even more heartbreaking than when he was crying. “The commander…”

“It’s you!!” A noble who had been rescued by the enforcers yelled, clutching his head that had been smashed by a streetlamp. “It’s all your fault for not killing that guy sooner! That’s why everything ended up like this! You covered for him because he’s your commander! What a load of garbage this knight order is—your commander is the most evil monster of all!!”

The drastic change in the enforcers’ attitude after learning Si Qi’s true identity was hard for many nobles to accept.

These overindulged brats, spoiled by a peaceful society and overly protected by the national military, naturally believed that the enforcers who had been risking their lives to protect everyone all these years should unhesitatingly sacrifice themselves when danger came, rather than letting these so-called “innocent” civilians face even the slightest risk.

Words like that felt like knives stabbing straight into Igor’s heart. Already in great pain, veins bulged on his forehead. For the first time, he truly felt disgust toward the world. For the first time, he genuinely wanted to draw his weapon and kill this scum. The one he loved most had been pushed to the brink again and again by these very people. Yet not only were they ungrateful, they were even more eager than anyone to see the commander die. What was the point of protecting a world like this?

The deputy commander saw that Igor had been provoked and slapped the noble across the face, mocking him: “We covered for the commander? How stupid do you have to be to say something like that? All of us together wouldn’t be enough to take him down. You think we could handle him in that state? Or do you think you could? With what—your shamelessness? Or your filthy mouth like a sewer?!”

The noble, who had been knocked to the ground, had never been humiliated like this in his life. He scrambled up and shouted furiously, “You bastards—”

Before he could finish, another enforcer, already on the brink of losing control, tackled him to the ground, grabbing his collar and slamming him back down. Punch after punch rained down on the noble’s head as the enforcer screamed out his fear and rage. “Die, die, die! All of you should die! All of you!!”

“Every day we watch our comrades line up to die just to protect you fools from forbidden objects, and yet the moment you face a little danger, you can’t take it. Then you want to throw the commander to his death? Why? Why? WHY?!”

Grabbing the noble’s bloodied head, the enforcer slammed it hard against the stone pavement, screaming with every strike, “The one who should die is you! YOU!!”

“If the commander hadn’t risked his life time and time again to make contact with forbidden objects and bear all that contamination, you pigs wouldn’t be walking around safe and sound on the streets or living carefree in your ivory towers! You’d have long since rotted into maggot-infested corpses!”

The deputy commander finally grabbed him by the collar and yanked him off the noble, though the enforcer’s legs still kicked wildly toward the crying, blood-covered man on the ground. “You ungrateful parasite—why couldn’t you be the one chosen by the evil god?! If that were the case, I’d slice your head off without hesitation!”

Seeing the enforcer’s eyes bloodshot with rage, the marquis family’s anger slowly dissipated. They no longer paid attention to that damned noble. The congressman turned to the deputy commander and said, “Why are you all just standing here? Xiao Qi is still inside!”

The deputy commander, still respectful toward the commander’s family, answered patiently, “We can’t go back in.”

The congressman  demanded, “You’re giving up on your own commander?!”

“It’s not giving up. It’s that going back in won’t do anything. The commander has lost control and can’t recognize the situation around him. If we go in, we’ll just be throwing our lives away,” the deputy commander explained. “And our deaths would only serve as nourishment for the evil god, making things even worse.”

The congressman asked in confusion, “How is Xiao Qi even that powerful…”

“If he weren’t, the evil god wouldn’t have chosen him,” the deputy commander stated the key reason. “The commander has an extraordinary ability to control forbidden objects. He understands better than anyone how to coexist with contamination.”

The marquis frowned and asked in a low voice, “Then what should we do now?”

The deputy commander replied, “Wait for the outcome between Chu Feng and the evil god. In the best-case scenario, the evil god is killed by Chu Feng, and we only need to deal with the surrounding contamination. In the average scenario, Chu Feng is killed by the evil god, and we charge in for a desperate battle. In the worst-case scenario, both we and Chu Feng are killed, and the world is devoured by the evil god.”

The congressman’s voice tightened. “But isn’t the one possessed by the evil god our Xiao Qi?! What do you mean by killed?!”

The deputy commander’s tone remained calm, but his words were brutally straightforward. “That would already be the best outcome. If he had the choice, the commander would definitely choose that. On this matter, I know him better than you do.”

The marquis family was speechless. It felt like a heavy boulder was crushing their chests. Helplessness flooded their entire beings.

“How can it be like this…”

“This is already the best option.” Gazing into the distance where crashing sounds continued to echo from the direction of the building, the deputy commander spoke in a low voice, almost like muttering to himself, “Someone was bound to be chosen by the evil god. For the commander to perish together with it is far better than someday losing control and being secretly executed… This might be the ending the commander most wished for. That’s why he didn’t dodge earlier, nor did he commit suicide in advance to reject the evil god’s possession…”

The congressman clenched his fists tightly, shouting in anger, “Why does our child have to die? We worked so hard to help him survive—why must he be the one to die?!”

The deputy commander looked at him and replied, “You were spoiled by the commander.”

“Shut up! I don’t have your damn noble resolve—I’m just a selfish man who wants his younger brother to live! If it meant keeping him alive, I’d even side with the devil!” the congressman roared. “Don’t let me hear that kind of talk again!”

The deputy commander fell silent. After a long while, he said quietly, “Then watch closely. Watch how our commander fights. Even drenched in blood, it’s more real than the peaceful lie of a body resting quietly on a hospital bed.”

“Xiao Qi…” The marquise slowly regained consciousness in her husband’s arms. Tears streamed uncontrollably down her cheeks as she raised her hand toward the direction of the sounds of battle. “My poor child… Mommy didn’t know anything, didn’t know anything at all…”

The marquis held her hand tightly, his eyes fixed firmly on the distant chaos. The pollution there had become so dense that even ordinary people could see it with the naked eye. In the bright noon sky, only that one area was shrouded in darkness, as if layers of heavy storm clouds had gathered there, blocking all light.

Suddenly, a massive eye split open within the dark clouds, revealing a vertical pupil filled with deep, malevolent intent, gazing down upon the world below.

Everyone who lifted their eyes to see it immediately fell into a state of shock-induced catatonia, their bodies frozen in place, faces frozen in terror, minds going completely blank.

Even just catching the evil god’s gaze from the corner of its eye was more than an average human could bear—the overwhelming psychic impact shattered their sanity. And for enforcers already constantly enduring the will of the evil god, it was even worse.

Several enforcers suffered mental breakdowns on the spot. Their bodies twisted grotesquely in an instant, collapsing to the ground and becoming new sources of pollution.

The defensive perimeter that had been so painstakingly established now began to fracture. Forbidden objects broke loose and charged into the outside areas, wildly attacking the civilians hiding there, spreading even more fear and death.

At the heart of the battlefield, atop the ruins of the building, a monster hundreds of meters tall let out a furious roar toward the sky. An invisible force descended through the eye above and surged into its body, seizing it without restraint and erasing its will.

There was no doubt that this body suited the evil god’s aesthetic perfectly. Whether it was the immensely powerful physique or the murky, twisted soul within, it all left the evil god thoroughly satisfied.

By descending into this vessel, killing the newly awakened deity before him, and stealing its power, the evil god would fully conquer this small world and consume it entirely.

The dark figure grew taller and taller, expanding until it reached a limit—then suddenly compressed and shrank, condensing into a deeper, more sinister power that it absorbed entirely.

A black-haired youth stood amidst the rubble, his head lowered in a relaxed stance. His pale, handsome face was strikingly beautiful, but his lips curled into a cruel smile that perfectly matched the apocalyptic scene behind him. Waves of thick malice radiated from him, polluting the air and dragging the entire area into an abyss of corruption.

The white glow around Chu Feng diluted the surrounding pollution like sunlight melting snow. It wasn’t that his body was glowing—rather, the murky corruption couldn’t approach him, keeping the area around him illuminated.

This was the clash of light and darkness—a battle that would decide the fate of this small world.

Both wielded the power to destroy everything. And now, as their full strength was unleashed upon each other, the sheer impact was enough to terrify any living human.

The black-haired youth stood motionless, then lifted his head and gave Chu Feng a wild, unrestrained grin. Tilting his head, he looked over his prey and uttered a strange chant that no human could understand. Invisible forces twisted space, and Chu Feng’s brows furrowed deeply.

Inside the consciousness space, Xiu Xiu extended his little claws, trying to drive away the surrounding black mist.

A creature with a distorted, grotesque form—nothing like any normal living being—opened several eyes and caught sight of him. A buzzing sound conveyed an abstract signal: [What is this thing]

Xiu Xiu stared blankly at the monster that had forcibly invaded Si Qi’s consciousness: [??]

He looked around, searching for Si Qi, but before he could move, the evil god seized him and began pulling him violently. A new signal echoed through its will: [Why can’t I devour it]

Xiu Xiu screamed in fright: [Master! Master, help!!]

The evil god ignored the little creature’s cries. As it always did, it tried to consume and destroy, attempting to absorb this being into itself to grow stronger. But this time, unexpectedly, it couldn’t.

[What is this]

The evil god had no language, only mental transmission. It writhed through the consciousness space, its filthy tendrils wrapping around Xiu Xiu, trying to corrode and dissolve him.

Xiu Xiu sensed the evil god’s intent. His body trembled uncontrollably as he continued to cry out for his master.

When a tear finally slipped from his eye and fell onto the mud-covered ground, a flash of snowy-white sword light suddenly sliced through the space in front of him, severing the tendril. A hand reached into the writhing mass and pulled the struggling Xiu Xiu free.

Feeling the familiar warmth, Xiu Xiu burst into tears of joy.

[Master! Wuwuwu master!! Master, you’re finally here, Xiu Xiu was so scared!!]

Si Qi: “…”

Si Qi looked up at the massive evil god, then down at his own comparatively small body. A human’s spiritual will, compared to a divine being that had existed for who knows how many ages, was like a tiny reef in an endless sea.

Yet no matter how turbulent the sea, when it encounters a reef, it can only be split apart.

“You’re finally here.” Si Qi took out the World Tree leaf and began equipping himself piece by piece. To prepare for this arrival, to kill this damn monster, he had been trying to extract useful items from the leaf ever since the day he obtained it. He let out a cold laugh: “I’ve been waiting for you for a long time.”

From the moment he first arrived in this world more than ten years ago, Si Qi had fought all the way to today. Now, at last, he was face to face with his true enemy.

He drew the longsword from his waist, blocked a massive tentacle swinging toward him, and charged forward without hesitation.

Even calling his action “like a mantis trying to stop a cart” wouldn’t be enough—he was swatted away by a tentacle as massive as a train. Si Qi flipped midair, landed steadily, wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, and charged again.

With every step he ran, the faces of comrades who had died before him flashed through his mind. Their dying cries rang in his ears. His small mortal body grew more solid with each stride, until it began to faintly glow with a pure, divine light.

Had he never been tainted by the evil god’s power, this would have been the true form of Si Qi’s soul.

The strength his fallen comrades had left behind urged him forward—it made giving up impossible. After barely holding on and surviving to this moment, he had finally lived to see the evil god with his own eyes, finally gotten the chance to fight it head-on.

How could he surrender? How could he die so easily? He would stir up a storm deep within his own soul and drag this cursed being down with him!

“How’s my body? Since you were unlucky enough to pick me, then stay right here! Don’t even think about getting out!!”

Si Qi threw out a gem from the leaf and, using the power of his sword, stabbed it deep into the tentacle. A massive bolt of lightning exploded inside the monster. Squinting, Si Qi observed the result—and saw that the small gem had indeed caused the evil god some minor damage. Without hesitation, he took out hundreds more and shoved them all into the evil god’s abdomen, then retreated far away.

Boom rumble—

Outside, Chu Feng, who was grappling with Si Qi’s possessed body, caught a subtle opening and used it to seize control of the youth’s wrist. With a twist, he pulled out a dark shadow.

Was that Si Qi?

Si Qi hadn’t completely lost his mind? He was battling the evil god’s will inside his body?!

Suddenly being attacked from both inside and out, the evil god let out a furious growl. It hadn’t realized this host’s willpower would be so troublesome—wasn’t a mere mortal supposed to be easy prey?

The evil god turned into a streak of shadow and flew into the sky, planning to kill the pesky ant inside the body before dealing with Chu Feng.

Chu Feng quickly followed, blocking the evil god from leaving the area.

In the consciousness space, Si Qi sensed the evil god’s physical form had slightly shrunk—it wasn’t from the gem attack; there was a clear time gap.

Was it Chu Feng?

Only Chu Feng could coordinate with his actions to hurt the evil god from the outside.

Originally, Si Qi had planned to use Chu Feng only as a last resort—to stop the evil god from running wild in his body. He hadn’t expected that while he fought inside the consciousness space, Chu Feng could assist from outside.

The corners of his mouth curved into a satisfied smile. He saw Xiu Xiu busily moving things in and out of the World Tree leaf and instructed, “Find me something that has similar power to that gem.”

Xiu Xiu immediately replied, “That was magic! Xiu Xiu will check what else is in the magic-tech world…”

Si Qi glanced at Xiu Xiu, saw he was unharmed, and quickly asked, “Wait—what kind of power are you made of?”

Xiu Xiu: “What?”

Si Qi: “Just now, the evil god tried to devour you but failed. Weren’t you born from divine power?”

Why could the evil god devour divine power in the small world, but not devour this little creature?

Xiu Xiu quickly replied, “No! Xiu Xiu was created by the Lord God using the power of the world itself. The power of the world is the fundamental force that constructs reality. The evil god, on the other hand, is a being born within a small world. They’re fundamentally on different levels…”

Just like human body heat can’t melt steel, the evil god couldn’t corrode a system created by the Lord God. They were not even in the same league.

In a flash of realization, Xiu Xiu suddenly remembered something—a phrase the Lord God had once told Si Qi. He couldn’t recall where or when due to memory loss, but he instinctively blurted it out: “As long as you master the power of the world, you can transform it into any kind of power!”

Si Qi slightly furrowed his brows. While grappling with the evil god, he said quickly, “You once said the power of the world can modify things within the leaf and bring them into the real world.”

So the reason Si Qi could use these physically manifested tools inside the intangible consciousness space was because they were imbued with world power? And the reason they could harm the evil god was also because they still retained a bit of that same power?

Then how could he harness the world power directly—how could he command such an incredible force?

As the thought formed, he sensed a power quietly floating inside his body, obediently shifting with his will, condensing beside his hand into the shape of the longsword most familiar to him.

In this consciousness space, was it really possible to obtain whatever you could imagine?

Holding on to this experimental mindset, Si Qi didn’t hesitate. He swung the sword hard toward the evil god.

A sound incomprehensible to humans rang out. The part of the tentacle struck by Si Qi twisted and convulsed violently, like flame igniting plastic—it shriveled, compressed, and warped in an instant.

The effect was incredible. Si Qi’s eyes widened in disbelief. He looked down at the “longsword” in his hand and muttered, “So this is world power?”

Even though it was his first time using this power, it felt as natural as breathing.

His eyes shone with unprecedented brightness. Fearlessly, he climbed the writhing tentacle mass, dodging giant “whip-blades” sweeping past his head and sides. He ran straight up the mountainous bulk, drove his greatsword into one of the evil god’s eyes, and twisted.

The moment the blade pierced in, the youth battling Chu Feng suddenly froze mid-air, fell briefly, then managed to regain altitude. The black “mist” surrounding him surged in and out.

Chu Feng seized the opportunity. Divine power surged from within him, wrapping the youth’s body. White light eroded the core of the pollution, trying to reach the soul within and extinguish the foreign presence.

From both inside and out, the pressure mounted. Si Qi could clearly feel the changes in the consciousness space: the muddy, blackened ground gradually cleared, and the evil god’s enormous, hideous body shrank visibly.

What is this power?

How can a mere mortal wield such strength?

Eat you! Gain new power! Eat you!!

As his foot stepped on one of the evil god’s fallen tentacles, Si Qi “heard” its remaining will. It was just like the whispers he’d heard countless times when touching forbidden objects—only now, the corruption was more direct and more clear.

The tentacle burst open, turning into countless black maggots as thick as a thumb. They swarmed toward Si Qi’s legs, opening needle-sharp maws, trying to pierce his soul and burrow deeper.

Si Qi stabbed into the swarm with his sword. The insects twisted like rotting flesh meeting sunlight, shriveling rapidly into piles of black dust.

At the same time, a white light shone from above—eye-catching yet gentle, impossibly soothing. Si Qi didn’t know what it was, but he knew one thing for sure: the evil god hated this light and was desperately trying to flee from it within the space of his own consciousness.

The places touched by the light caused the evil god’s body to dry up and turn gray. There was no way Si Qi would miss this opportunity—he coordinated with the light to launch attacks on the evil god again and again.

Using human willpower to continuously confront the descending will of an evil god was essentially a death wish. Si Qi’s soul body couldn’t withstand the overloaded energy assaults; he was knocked down repeatedly but got back up each time.

The evil god had never encountered such an unreasonable human. Provoked over and over again by Si Qi and having to deal with Chu Feng’s fierce external assaults, what was supposed to be an effortless descent turned into a self-made trap. He and Chu Feng fought from day into night and from night back into day.

A week passed. Si Qi’s soul body had grown so weak it was nearly transparent. He had finally weakened the mountain-sized evil god to the point where its full form could be clearly seen even from above.

The white light covered the evil god at just the right moment, leaving it with nowhere to escape.

Si Qi stood where he was, utterly exhausted, watching the monster with his own eyes as it froze in its pained, struggling posture, gradually turning to stone like a statue. A deep fatigue, like the end of a marathon that had lasted over ten years, surged within him. For a moment, Si Qi didn’t know whether to feel dazed or moved—he stood there dumbfounded, his chest churning with countless emotions.

At this moment, Si Qi could clearly feel the presence of his physical body. As long as he was willing to “step up,” he could return to it, return to the life that had once been his.

But he was just too tired.

After more than a decade of effort, he had finally fulfilled his long-held wish. Si Qi’s soul body wavered unsteadily; a gentle breeze might be enough to blow away his final breath.

“Commander, Commander, wake up, Commander!”

Chu Feng’s voice came from a great distance. Si Qi collapsed onto the ground, slowly closing his eyes.

I understand. I’ll keep trying. Just let me rest for a moment…

“Commander, wake up! Open your eyes! Your parents are here, and so is Chu Feng!”

“Xiao Qi, Xiao Qi, what’s wrong? Doctor! Why is his breathing getting weaker? Didn’t you say his body is perfectly healthy?!”

“How could this be? Xiao Qi, open your eyes and look at Mom. Xiao Qi, I’m begging you!”

Si Qi weakly lifted his head, his lips moved slightly, but he couldn’t make a sound.

[Master! The feedback from the World Power is off! The evil god isn’t dead yet!] Xiu Xiu suddenly shouted.

Si Qi, whose soul had nearly dissipated, was suddenly filled with strength and shot up from the ground.

His figure solidified in an instant. His eyes swept coldly across the devastated scene within the consciousness space. He swung his long sword—one slash severed the statue’s body, another stabbed into the pile of dark fragments on the ground.

A string of curses echoed out. Si Qi flicked out a pitch-black worm hidden within the polluted waste and stomped down on it hard.

Damn it—it was hiding here all along.

A world polluted by evil gods (14): Drop vest x2

Chu Feng turned his head to look at Si Qi’s parents. His tone no longer carried the cold professionalism from when they were discussing serious matters earlier. Instead, his expression was gentle as he tried his best to reassure them. “Please don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything…”

The marquis and his wife had uncertain expressions, as if they were weighing the meaning behind Chu Feng’s words, trying to figure out whether this person—who had hidden his identity the entire time—was being sincere. More importantly, they were worried whether their son might be deceived by this man. If he ended up hurting their son, would they, as parents, be capable of protecting Si Qi from someone whose identity had suddenly changed so drastically?

Even at a time like this, their first thought was still for their beloved son. There was not a hint of feeling like they’d struck it rich or any eager desire to climb the social ladder.

The young congressman, escorted by nearby enforcers, finally rushed over from the other end of the banquet hall. He frantically checked on each of his family members, and only after confirming they were unharmed did he shoot a sharp look at Chu Feng, his expression resembling that of a lion protecting its cub.

However, he didn’t threaten Chu Feng like he usually did. Instead, he held his younger brother in his arms and gently comforted him. “Don’t be afraid. I’ll protect you…”

Si Qi didn’t let the adults worry. He kept his head buried in their embrace the entire time, refusing to look at the terrifying chaos outside. He nodded and said obediently, “Okay, I’m not afraid.”

“Good boy.” The congressman, sweating and tense as he watched the surroundings, turned to Chu Feng and said, “Can you have your… subordinates? Escort Xiao Qi out safely?”

Chu Feng shook his head slightly. “It’s not safe outside.”

“Then where is the safest place?” the congressman asked anxiously.

“The safest place is by my side.” Chu Feng spoke with certainty and said to the congressman, “Trust me. I can protect Xiao Qi.”

The congressman looked at Chu Feng with a complicated expression, staring at him for a few seconds. He confirmed that Chu Feng’s attitude remained the same as always, showing no signs of gloating or using his now-revealed identity to mock the noble family that had once looked down on him. He softly said, “If Xiao Qi gets hurt, I’ll never forgive you for the rest of my life.”

“Of course.” Chu Feng nodded without the slightest hint of irritation. “Please believe me. I truly love him and see him as my life.”

That sentence was more convincing than any promise. The worry on the marquis couple’s faces slowly eased.

The congressman asked, “Who the hell are these people? Why are they attacking us? We couldn’t have offended so many transcendents at once!”

Chu Feng replied with an embarrassed apology. “It’s all my fault. They came because of me. I had already prepared in advance, but I didn’t expect them to act so recklessly and send so many people…”

The marquis family recalled the out-of-place ‘servers’ and how they had previously complained about how incompetent Chu Feng seemed. Now they finally understood why he had arranged things the way he did. Some of their resentment faded as they said, “Since this trouble was caused by you, you have to deal with it! Do you even know what day it is today? You’ll leave Xiao Qi with trauma for the rest of his life!”

“It’s my fault. I’m sorry.” Chu Feng admitted his mistake with genuine remorse, and this attitude made it hard for the marquis couple to continue scolding him—after all, the real culprits were the attackers, not Chu Feng. It would be unreasonable to blame their own ally while letting the villains off the hook.

So, the normally soft-spoken couple fell silent after one sentence. Instead, their son, who had always been resolute in action, continued, “What good is just admitting fault? You’re the strongest among us, right? Then go fix this already. Don’t just stand here!”

Chu Feng nodded, glanced at a few enforcers beside him, and was just about to give instructions when Igor rushed over in a hurry. “Leave them to me!” he said quickly.

The marquis couple immediately recognized their son’s good friend. They had seen Igor several times before at the orphanage and were surprised. “Igor? It’s you! I was just wondering why you didn’t come to Xiao Qi’s engagement banquet… So, you’re a transcendent too?”

Igor glanced at the commander, who was cautiously peeking out from his brother’s embrace, and explained, “I was outside trying to stop the enemy. I’m sorry I couldn’t hold them off…”

“No, that’s not your fault.” The marquise, overwhelmed by the many surprising revelations about familiar faces today, said, “Thank you, Igor. I know you did your best.”

Thanks to Igor’s consistent efforts to make a good impression with the (future?) in-laws, the marquis family already had a very favorable view of him. They didn’t question his explanation at all and said with reassurance, “With you here to protect Xiao Qi, we feel much more at ease.”

Chu Feng: “…”

He felt a bit jealous of Igor.

But he didn’t say anything. He just nodded at Igor and turned to leave.

He had barely taken three steps when he raised his hand, grabbed the neck of a cultist trying to attack him, and with a slight twist, broke his neck and threw the body aside.

The in-laws, who witnessed this brutal side of Chu Feng with their own eyes: “…”

The congressman looked down at his brother, who was cautiously peeking out and talking to Igor. His expression was conflicted. He wanted his brother to see Chu Feng’s “true side” but was also afraid the scene would scare him—it was troubling, to say the least.

Igor said to Si Qi, “Don’t worry. Stay here with peace of mind. We’ll take care of everything.”

It was a clear signal telling Si Qi not to intervene and to leave it all to them.

Si Qi silently observed the state of the omniscient cult’s followers and lowered his voice to speak to Igor. “Their numbers…”

Igor’s first thought was that Si Qi meant the attackers were too numerous and the enforcers might not be able to handle them. But then he realized—Si Qi wasn’t someone who would act impulsively and risk exposing his identity if the situation was still under control.

So, what he actually meant was… there were too few of them! Igor suddenly understood. “The bishops!”

It was said that the Omniscient Church had mobilized all its members for this operation. Even ordinary followers without access to forbidden artifacts had come with weapons, ready to die in suicide attacks. There was no way that the stronger and more devout bishops would just hide in the shadows. If they hadn’t shown up yet, it must mean they were preparing for something much more dangerous.

Alerted by this, Igor quickly scanned the battlefield and locked eyes on one hooded follower.

This person had been hiding in a corner of the banquet hall, not attacking the terrified guests nearby. If he lacked courage or strength, he wouldn’t have been able to eliminate an enforcer and remain hidden so quickly. He was far too discreet.

Something was definitely wrong. Igor immediately called out to the deputy commander nearby. “That person’s suspicious!”

The deputy commander looked toward where Igor was pointing, didn’t say a word, and charged with his axe raised high. With a single downward swing, he split the target from head to toe.

A noblewoman standing nearby witnessed the bloody scene and let out a piercing scream, then fainted on the spot. But the deputy commander’s expression changed—when the axe hit, it didn’t feel like striking human flesh and bone. It felt more like hitting a pile of sludge.

Having long dealt with eerie forbidden artifacts, the deputy commander had an exceptional instinct for bizarre occurrences. A chill ran down his spine. He quickly scooped the unconscious woman off the ground and retreated.

Then he saw the two halves of the “corpse” melt rapidly upon touching the ground. As if it were alive, the red sludge began spreading, devouring nearby corpses. The spilled blood formed strange, intricate patterns that quickly spread across the floor.

These symbols radiated an overwhelming sense of danger—like how wild animals instinctively fear fire. The deputy commander’s pupils contracted as something clicked in his mind. He shouted, “It’s a sacrificial formation!”

Almost the instant he spoke, all the cultists suddenly stopped their actions and looked up in unison, revealing chilling, eerie smiles that made the hair on one’s neck stand. Instead of continuing the slaughter, they raised their weapons—not at others, but at themselves—and drove them into their own necks or hearts.

Blood gushed madly into the air. In every visible direction, fresh blood painted the scene bright red.

The ordinary guests were so terrified they couldn’t even scream. They stared blankly at the hellish scene before them, collapsing to their knees as uncontrollable tremors overtook their bodies.

With so many lives lost in an instant, the formation on the ground expanded to more than ten times its original size. The fervent faith of the deceased ignited the core of the formation. An invisible signal surged outward, and an overwhelming force descended upon the area—an entity invisible to the eye, but so oppressive that every living being could feel it. The unseen pressure made it impossible for anyone to raise their head or look upon the presence above.

Except Chu Feng.

His expression darkened. It was clear he could see something that no one else could. His gaze became fierce and violent, like a wild beast defending its territory from an intruder.

This was the instinctive hatred of a native god toward a foreign, evil deity—an unshakable repulsion born from the world itself.

Si Qi scanned the battlefield again. He noticed that while most cultists had died to fuel the formation, several remained alive. They quickly gathered and positioned themselves at key points around the sacrificial formation, acting like human pillars or rivets, chanting loudly.

Si Qi recognized most of them—they were bishops he had fought before. These people had hidden among the ordinary cultists, only emerging at this crucial moment. His heart sank. Clearly, this wasn’t going to end easily.

If their goal was only to retaliate against Chu Feng or protect the Omniscient Scroll, they wouldn’t have gone this far.

This desperate, suicidal attack could only mean one thing: they believed the outcome was worth dying for—this was their long-cherished wish.

And what was that wish? To bring the evil god into this world, to let death embrace every living thing.

The evil god fed on death, fear, and chaos. The recent loss of control over holy power had filled the hearts of the people with dread. In just two days, more had died worldwide than in an entire year. This overwhelming unease became perfect nourishment for the evil god, allowing its power to grow explosively in a very short time.

Now was the best chance to kill Chu Feng, seize divine power, and take over the world. If they waited for Chu Feng to fully grasp the divine power, gradually contain the forbidden artifacts, and restore order, the evil god and its followers would eventually be driven out completely.

So… these people were summoning the evil god?

That unfathomable, unseeable presence above—was that the evil god?

Si Qi locked his gaze onto Chu Feng. He remembered that Xiu Xiu had once said only Chu Feng could kill the evil god—because he was the child of the world and had already gathered most of the divine power.

Just then, the bishops’ faces lit up with fanatical devotion. They spread their arms like lambs ready for slaughter, welcoming the descent of their god.

No one knew what was happening. They only saw the bishops’ bodies begin to twist and deform one after another, becoming monstrous beings so grotesque they would haunt anyone’s nightmares. Their heads, as if unable to bear the corruption within, turned dark purple, then black—before exploding completely.

Ordinary people trembled in fear, but not a single one of the bishops flinched. They waited one after another for the evil god’s favor, until one bishop, before dying—his head crushed within a mountain of flesh, his immense weight overwhelming his brain—shed tears and regretfully said, “My soul is not filthy enough to withstand the power of the Lord God.”

Only then did everyone understand what these people were trying to do—they were turning themselves into vessels for the evil god, to summon that being into the human world!

An enforcer tried to approach and interrupt the ritual but was immediately affected—his body twisted and transformed into a centipede-like skeletal monster, collapsing to the ground and losing consciousness. The other enforcers realized this wasn’t a forbidden object they could resolve just by sacrificing lives. They quickly backed away, asking the deputy commander what to do, and some instinctively asked about the commander’s whereabouts.

Chu Feng took a deep breath, stepped forward, and decapitated one of the bishops with a single stroke. An indescribable malice surged from the formation, causing his body to momentarily freeze—but no real harm came to him.

Everyone’s eyes lit up as they watched Chu Feng fight the bishops within the ritual formation. One after another, heads were cleanly severed without mercy. They thought this would stop the ritual and drive the evil god back.

However, the formation showed no sign of disappearing. On the contrary, it began to spread without restraint, selecting nearby humans and extending its corruption to stimulate the souls of each potential vessel.

Once the pollution reached a critical level, the energy field of the entire area changed dramatically. Everyone could now clearly see the souls of the people around them—some white, some black, some large, some small.

At first, they didn’t understand what these floating things were. They only knew they were hovering nearby and couldn’t be shaken off.

That’s how they quickly distinguished between ordinary people, enforcers, and external intelligence personnel from the legion.

Those who had long been in contact with forbidden objects had pitch-black souls floating near them, while those who had never been exposed to corruption had pure white ones.

The bishop who had died moments ago had said, “My soul is not filthy enough to withstand the evil god’s descent,” meaning the filthier and darker the soul, the more favored it was by the evil god—and the more likely it would become its vessel.

In an instant, everyone’s eyes locked onto a particular creature at the scene. It was black, terrifying, covered head to toe in sharp bone spurs, and its scales reflected a cold metallic sheen like a demon.

“What is that thing?!” someone cried out in horror. All eyes turned toward the creature—and the marquis couple standing nearby, their faces filled with fear.

The marquis and his wife had originally tried to run, but then they remembered their youngest son—and the spot where he had been standing just moments ago… was now exactly where the monster stood!

The congressman reacted the fastest. He shouted furiously and rushed over to pull his brother out from within the creature. “Xiao Qi!!”

Si Qi looked around in confusion as the scene suddenly turned black. He heard his brother’s voice, then felt a pair of cold, strong hands grab him and pull him forcefully away.

He allowed himself to be pulled, but the black fog in front of his eyes didn’t dissipate at all.

From the outside, it looked as if the congressman had yanked the monster toward him with sheer strength. Everyone backed away in fear, stumbling to the ground, letting out cries of terror.

Though he appeared the bravest, the congressman was actually the most anxious. He kept calling Si Qi’s name, feeling his temperature, trying to make sure his brother was unharmed. Together with their mother and father, he waved his arms, trying to drive the creature away—accidentally hitting Si Qi again and again in the process.

Si Qi said, “Dad, Mom, Brother… what’s happening outside? Why can’t I see anything?”

“Xiao Qi, don’t be scared, it’s okay, don’t be afraid,” the marquis family trembled as they tried to comfort him. But outside, people were shouting with fear, showing no restraint at all. “Monster!! It’s a monster!!”

“Why is that thing still alive?!”

The enforcers in the legion quickly noticed something was wrong and asked urgently, “Who is that?!”

“He’s Chu Feng’s fiancé…”

“If the black and white souls represent the degree of pollution, then that guy…”

“No! We have to kill him before the evil god chooses him!!”

“He’s no longer human. His level of corruption is even worse than a forbidden object—he’s a walking source of contamination!!”

“Kill him!!”

More and more enforcers realized the threat and, without hesitation, drew their sealed weapons and launched attacks at Si Qi.

The marquis couple, being ordinary people, didn’t even have time to react before they saw countless attacks flying toward their youngest son. Just as despair and disbelief took over their faces—Chu Feng arrived in time. With a cold expression, he blocked all the attacks. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

Unlike everyone else, Chu Feng had no floating black or white soul near him. At that moment, he looked like a glowing white figure, bathed in pure, divine light—a stark contrast to the monster behind him.

The enforcers didn’t feel even a hint of guilt. They shouted at Chu Feng with anxious fury. “You’re insane!! You’re protecting a follower of the evil god?!”

“Kill him, or once the evil god descends into his body, we’ll all die!!”

“Chu Feng!! What are you doing? If you keep protecting your fiancé, we’ll kill you both!!”

Time was running out. The fact that the enforcers were giving Chu Feng even a few seconds to respond instead of attacking immediately already showed how much respect they had for him. The scene was complete chaos. The marquis family finally realized what was going on and couldn’t believe their beloved child could be some kind of evil source. This had to be a mistake!

They carefully shielded the grotesque, terrifying-looking Si Qi in the middle, hiding behind Chu Feng with fierce, protective eyes.

Whether enforcers or civilians—everyone wanted to kill what they considered their most precious treasure. They would never allow it!

If anyone wanted to kill Si Qi, they would have to step over their dead bodies first!

They clutched at Si Qi’s sleeves and arms with unwavering determination, their expressions filled with resolve like never before.

Finally, the duke’s daughter seized the moment and shouted, “Chu Feng, don’t let that guy fool you! He pretends to be pure and harmless, but in reality, he’s filthy and ugly. Someone like that isn’t worth protecting!”

The others immediately realized—if they didn’t convince Chu Feng to cooperate and help kill Si Qi now, once the evil god actually descended, wouldn’t they all be doomed?!

Everyone in the legion—the princess, the pancake vendor—turned hateful eyes toward the marquis family. “You filthy degenerates, worse than pus-filled sores on plague victims!”

“Because of people like you hiding in the shadows, so many tragedies happen in this world!”

“Hand over Si Qi, and we’ll leave your bodies intact!”

“Chu Feng, I’m giving you three seconds. Stand down immediately!”

“The commander would never forgive you. You don’t deserve his love!”

“Step aside!!”

“…Enough.” Igor finally stepped forward, seeing that the crowd’s emotions were spiraling out of control and that they’d likely attack Chu Feng and Si Qi any second. He said firmly, “Si Qi is the commander.”

The angry shouting stopped instantly.

A world polluted by evil gods (13): Drop vest ¹x1

The news of Chu Feng’s upcoming marriage wasn’t deliberately kept secret. The enforcers in the Legion who knew his identity quickly heard the good news and flocked over to offer their congratulations.

In the Legion, there were too many lunatics and people who died suddenly. Very few had happy families or stable romantic partners outside; being single or estranged from family was the norm. That made it all the more precious that Chu Feng had found true love and was getting married. Many were genuinely happy for him, as this was a rare and joyful event within the Legion—of course, if they knew Chu Feng’s fiancé was actually the commander, their reaction wouldn’t just be happiness—they’d go absolutely crazy.

The deputy commander and Igor were among the few who knew Si Qi’s true identity. The deputy commander, while surprised, wasn’t exactly shocked to learn the real relationship between the two, and took it quite well. Igor, on the other hand, took a while to process it. Once he did, he went straight to Chu Feng and said with concern, “Everyone in the Omniscient Church knows who you are, and you’ve caused them plenty of trouble… They’ll definitely try to mess with you on the day of the banquet. You need to be prepared.”

He was green with envy on the inside but dared not reveal Si Qi’s real identity. Throughout the conversation, he didn’t mention the other person involved in the marriage, only saying, “To prevent anything bad from happening at your engagement party, I’ll organize some people from the Legion to help out. What do you think?”

Chu Feng thought Si Qi would definitely be happy to have Legion members attend their engagement party and agreed without hesitation. “Of course, that would be great.”

Igor emphasized, “But you need to be mentally prepared. You know how unruly the enforcers are—they don’t respect anyone except the commander. Maybe they’ll behave for your sake and listen to you, but your fiancé… well, you know.”

Chu Feng understood Igor’s subtle warning—he was telling him to protect the commander and make sure those fearless, reckless enforcers didn’t accidentally offend their “well-behaved, cute, and innocent” commander. He got the message and replied, “Don’t worry. I’ll protect him well. I won’t let anything happen to him.”

Seeing Igor’s strange expression—probably thinking, “You’re only saying that because you don’t know Si Qi is the commander”—Chu Feng smiled and said, “He’s the most important person to me. His honor matters more than my life.”

Igor paused briefly, then gave Chu Feng a thoughtful look. Neither said anything more.

Igor then turned and issued a task: a group was needed to help maintain order at Chu Feng’s wedding. Many in the Legion immediately raised their hands to volunteer.

To join the fun (ahem, to ensure the next commander’s wedding goes smoothly), the enforcers all brought out their unique skills and talents to compete for a spot.

One claimed to have excellent eyesight—not only could they spot enemies from kilometers away, they could also see every detail on a piece of silverware and polish it spotless. Another claimed to be a wine expert, having infiltrated noble manors and royal cellars, tasting all sorts of fine wines and being able to name any vintage in the world, making them the perfect candidate to serve drinks. Someone else claimed to have spent eighteen years making egg pancakes, even going so far as to contract all the chicken farms and seasoning factories in the Imperial Capital just to make the most delicious egg pancake in the country…

Because these people were too impressive, many enforcers—who were good at nothing besides fighting, killing, and dealing with forbidden objects—were left disappointed after being rejected. Watching those “skillful” (questionably so) individuals win the chance to personally attend such a rare wedding, they were filled with envy and secretly plotted to get them out of the way so they could take their place.

After many individuals with impressive but ultimately insufficient skills were selected, a series of unfortunate “incidents” prevented them from arriving at the venue on time. The enforcers who had secretly sabotaged them confidently stepped in wearing perfectly fitting uniforms, taking their places without shame. As a result, every single person attending Chu Feng’s engagement banquet ended up being one of the Legion’ top-tier powerhouses—with personalities messier than the last.

Among them, Mory was a special case. He hadn’t gone through any selection process and was attending the banquet simply as Chu Feng’s long-time friend.

The two reunited after months apart. Seeing that the dangerous allure Chu Feng once carried had indeed disappeared, Mory smiled teasingly, “Didn’t think we’d get the chance to see each other again.”

The last time they parted, Mory had hastily left the Imperial Capital under the excuse of a sick family member, due to the irresistible and dangerous charm radiating from Chu Feng. Before leaving, he even introduced Chu Feng to the next Guardian Knight—Si Qi.

Bound by confidentiality rules, Mory never revealed Si Qi’s true identity (who was also a member of the Legion), and now said cheerfully, “Since I no longer need to keep my distance from you, I can finally return to work in the Imperial Capital. You know, the food here’s way better than back home.”

Chu Feng smiled and poured him a glass of wine. “Thank you for protecting me all these years.”

“No big deal,” Mory replied as he accepted the glass with a grin. “You’re a great guy. It’s been a pleasure working with you. Even without orders, I’d have helped you anyway.”

He gestured with the hand holding the wine glass toward the group of enforcers who clearly didn’t belong at a formal banquet and said with a chuckle, “Look at this extravagant lineup. Aside from the commander, only you could pull this off.”

Just as he said that, Mory noticed the marquis and marquise approaching with stormy expressions. Grinning mischievously, he said, “Of course, from a commoner’s perspective, you’re in big trouble. Good luck explaining things to your future in-laws.”

Chu Feng: “……”

Watching Mory slyly slip away with his wine glass, Chu Feng braced himself and stood his ground.

To be fair, the couple weren’t particularly harsh people. In fact, they were known as charitable and kind figures in the Imperial Capital. But this time, Chu Feng had seriously messed up something that involved their precious son, which understandably left them fuming.

“I’m more than happy to provide jobs for the disabled. If they’re willing to work properly, I’d gladly let them help—but do they look like they’re working properly?” the marquise whispered harshly to Chu Feng. “This is an important occasion between you and Xiao Qi. If it goes badly, do you know how upset he’ll be?”

Chu Feng understood their feelings and said apologetically, “I’m sorry. I’ll make sure they—”

Suddenly, Si Qi popped his head in from the side. “Daddy, Mommy, what are you talking about?”

Caught off guard, Chu Feng turned to see Si Qi dressed in a matching groom’s outfit. He looked pure and adorable, like an angel descending to the mortal world. Chu Feng’s heart skipped a beat, and he completely forgot what he was saying.

The marquis and marquise were equally stunned and delighted by their youngest son’s appearance. “Oh, darling, you look amazing! You must be the most handsome groom in the world!”

Si Qi smiled sweetly. “Really? Brother said the same thing… Brother Chu Feng, what do you think?”

Chu Feng’s ears turned red as he stammered, “You really look beautiful. Very, very beautiful…”

Seeing his awkwardness, Si Qi’s lips curled in joy, eyes glowing with happiness.

Watching their son so full of joy, the marquis and marquise could no longer bring themselves to scold Chu Feng. They instead told Si Qi, “Good child, today is your big day. Enjoy it to the fullest.”

“But don’t overexert yourself. If you feel uncomfortable, you must tell Daddy, Mommy, your big brother… and Chu Feng.”

With mixed feelings, they reluctantly added Chu Feng’s name at the end and left the young couple some space, turning to greet the guests.

Whether they noticed how many prominent figures at the event were showing surprising deference to those seemingly unimpressive helpers is another matter. Meanwhile, Si Qi was gazing at Chu Feng with sparkling eyes, saying dreamily, “Brother Chu Feng, you look so handsome today.”

Chu Feng, blushing, replied, “You look even better than me…”

Si Qi asked, “Did you invite these waiters, Brother? You’re so thoughtful~”

Chu Feng smiled. “As long as you like them.”

“Of course I like them!” Si Qi leaned closer, hugging Chu Feng’s arm. Surrounded by guests casting envious looks at Chu Feng, Si Qi asked, “Are they all your friends?”

Chu Feng: “Sort of. They’re my coworkers.”

Si Qi: “Oh, coworkers? You really have a wide circle… By the way, did that superior you always mention come today? I want to meet him.”

Chu Feng: “…Why do you want to meet him?”

Si Qi answered casually, “No reason. Just thought you seem to care a lot about him…”

Chu Feng: “…” He was still jealous at a time like this! Jealous of himself! This level of seriousness… truly worthy of the Legion commander.

Si Qi added with a faintly sour tone, “I even saw the duke’s daughter here—the one who said I wasn’t good enough for you, Annie. And you told me you were busy with work and couldn’t hang out, but actually you were walking her home…”

Despite the jealous tone, Chu Feng only felt sweetness—his cold, powerful commander was jealous, possessive, and didn’t want anyone else close to him. That just proved how deeply he loved him. Chu Feng really was a lucky guy.

So he leaned down and kissed the little one’s forehead, saying in an indulgent tone, “Don’t worry. I love only you. You’re my everything, and I’ll spend my whole life protecting you.”

Si Qi, who had been planning to sulk a little longer, instantly gave in. His face turned red to his neck, his blush as rosy as an apple—sweet enough to make anyone want to take a bite.

As they passed Chu Feng, a few Legion members stole glances at Si Qi, murmuring with interest:

“So that’s the type Chu Feng likes, huh.”

“I used to think, with how close he was to the Legion commander—and carrying a sealed object with seductive powers—that maybe the commander had already claimed him. Guess I was wrong.”

“They’re total opposites! That little guy’s like a bunny, not at all like our commanding officer—so fierce and powerful!”

“Speaking of, didn’t the commander come today? I thought he was pretty fond of Chu Feng.”

“Maybe he’s here and we just don’t know. He does always wear a mask.”

“Let’s just watch who Igor hangs around. That’ll tell us.”

“Enough! No guessing what the commander looks like! If the enemy uses a sealed object to expose him, what then?”

At that, the joking, laughing enforcers immediately fell silent and straightened up. No one mentioned the topic again, nor did they go looking for Si Qi’s whereabouts.

They watched as the guests gradually arrived and the engagement banquet officially began on time. Standing in a corner of the banquet hall, some whispered among themselves, “How’s the security outside?”

“The Omniscient Church scum who can’t stand to see others happy are definitely going to cause trouble.”

“They probably figured out that Chu Feng is the next Legion commander. Of course they want to take him out early…”

“They’ve already targeted our families before. A bunch of rats crawling in the gutters!”

With such attention from the enforcers, the believers of the Omniscient Church certainly didn’t disappoint.

After the news of Chu Feng’s wedding spread, the group—who had always seen him as a thorn in their side—couldn’t bear to let him peacefully enjoy the happiest day of his life. They banded together and infiltrated the area near the banquet, planning to launch a sudden terrorist attack once the banquet began—turning a celebration into a funeral.

But Chu Feng was extremely cautious. Defensive lines had been set up hundreds of meters away from the banquet hall. Many of the infiltrating believers were quickly detected by the enforcers, triggering intense clashes. The sound of battle roared in the distance but was reduced to a faint rumble by the time it reached the banquet hall, having no effect on the lively, festive atmosphere inside.

Igor took on the role of field commander. Though he couldn’t bear to see the person he secretly loved for years marrying someone else, he was still willing to cut through all threats for that person’s happiness behind the scenes.

Perhaps due to his bad mood, his attacks were more brutal than usual. Many enforcers were surprised, wondering: Is Igor really that close to Chu Feng? He’s taking this more seriously than a direct order from the Legion commander.

Just then, a massive explosion thundered from the southeast. The deafening boom sounded like the end of the world. Panic erupted among bystanders, some falling to the ground and screaming, “Is it an air raid?! A bomb?! Are we under attack?!”

Igor’s heart skipped a beat. He instantly turned toward the direction of the explosion. The next moment, an enforcer with blood on his head came charging over, shouting with all his strength, “Zone 3 has been breached!! At least hundreds of enemies—hundreds!!”

A dreadful premonition flooded Igor’s mind. Without hesitation, he bolted toward the banquet hall, just in time to see the elegant, century-old building erupt open with a deafening blast. Smoke and debris flew in all directions. Shadowy figures stormed into the building, wielding blades and all kinds of forbidden objects…

Igor’s pupils contracted sharply. He roared, “Stop them!!”

One of the attackers dragged a half-dead believer and threw him at Igor’s feet. Igor pulled out his Truth Gavel and demanded, “How many of you are there?!”

The believer was barely hanging on, more dead than alive, but his expression was one of crazed ecstasy.

He made no attempt to hide anything. On the contrary, he radiated the hysteria and peace of someone whose wish had finally been fulfilled. With a mad look, he said to Igor:

“All of us! Every last one!!”

“The true god is descending upon this world! The end has finally come!!”

“Everyone will enter the kingdom of the divine—only those who believe in the true god will be granted eternal life!!”

“Oh god, please take me! Let me become your flesh, your nourishment—let me remain by your side forever!!”

The enforcer beside Igor, already fed up with the lunatics, ruthlessly stomped on the believer’s face and growled to Igor, “The Omniscient Church has gone mad! Are they declaring all-out war?!”

Suddenly, Igor recalled recent operations carried out by the Legion. A tight knot formed in his chest. “The Scroll… It must’ve sensed we were about to seal it and stirred these people into a suicidal last stand!”

The Omniscient Scroll was the church’s most important “relic.” Its abilities resembled those of the Mirror of Truth, knowing everything in the world. But unlike the mirror, which had restrictions, the scroll could freely absorb the “tributes” gathered by believers, unleashing its full powers. What it knew would be at least as much—if not more—than the mirror.

So it made perfect sense for the scroll to foresee its impending demise. To avoid being sealed by the Temple knights, it likely “told” the believers to protect it—possibly even inciting them to launch a preemptive strike on the Legion.

To prevent the scroll from being taken and to stop the church from being wiped out, they struck first—just as they were doing now.

Within moments, Igor had pieced together the likely motive behind the attack. He no longer treated the situation as a routine threat and ordered his subordinates to contact all Legion members outside for emergency reinforcements. Then, with the enforcers guarding the perimeter, he charged into the banquet to protect Si Qi—

Their Legion commander could no longer withstand even the slightest shock. Any upheaval would only hasten his demise.

He arrived just after the believers had broken in, and chaos had already erupted inside.

Just moments before, the innocent guests had been enjoying a leisurely banquet, secretly speculating why a bunch of crude lowlifes were getting the attention of so many important figures. Then a thunderous explosion rang out nearby, and a mob of armed assailants stormed into the banquet, slashing at everyone in sight!

Screams and cries filled the hall. Many guests saw the attackers—dressed in uniform black robes like cultists—wielding strange and terrifying weapons that destroyed everything they touched with terrifying ease.

As the thought “These people are transcendent beings!” or “I’m going to die today!” flashed through their minds, these pampered nobles saw the attackers rush at them. Tears streamed down their faces, and they fell to their knees, wailing:

“Don’t kill me! I’ll give you money—everything I have! Just spare me!!”

The next second, just as a blade was speeding toward a noblewoman’s neck, a sharp “clang” rang out—blocked midair by a dinner knife. The noblewoman, face pale as a sheet, looked in horror at the scene before her. Her eyes darted to the one who had saved her: it was the same waitress who earlier had tried to hand her clean utensils, only to be mocked and coldly rejected for supposedly spreading germs.

Tears streamed down her face, gratitude welling up—only for the words to catch in her throat as she watched the waitress snap the very same napkin she had used to wipe the silverware. With a flick, it hit the attacker like a corrosive poison, melting half his skull.

The corpse wobbled before crashing to the ground, and whatever feeling of gratitude or guilt the noblewoman had vanished instantly. She dropped to her knees and screamed in horror:

“UURRGHHH—!!!”

The waitress gave her a look of mild disgust, neatly dodged the puddle of vomit, and resumed fighting the other cultists, wielding her sealed artifact.

Guests hiding in the corners, unable to escape, were utterly dumbfounded. They huddled behind flipped tables and chairs, peeking out to observe the chaos, only to see the same disabled and grotesque individuals they had mocked now displaying shocking power—no, “shocking power” wasn’t enough to describe it.

Many of the young ladies and gentlemen who had never seen a forbidden object or a real transcendent being in action were now completely stunned, mumbling to themselves:

“They… they really are transcendents… They’re transcendents—there’s really such power in this world…”

Someone with quicker thinking than the rest shouted:

“Why are beings this powerful pretending to be waitstaff and gathering here?!”

“Were they hired by that foreign merchant? Is he also a transcendent being?!”

Immediately, people scrambled through the battlefield to find the Marquis’ family. They spotted the famously kind couple surrounded by a group of supernatural fighters, being protected at the center. Standing beside them was their youngest son—who looked like he’d been scared to tears—and the “merchant,” his face cold and eyes sharp.

“It’s him! I knew it!”

Seeing Chu Feng’s calm and collected expression, everyone instantly understood—and gasped in disbelief:

“Oh my god… He actually commands this many transcendent beings. They’re fighting for him. Who is he?!”

“He can’t be just a merchant. Maybe he’s the head of the Temple Knights!”

“The Temple Knights?!”

“They’re the only ones in the Imperial Capital who could command so many transcendents. He must be one of the top brass!”

Someone else suddenly recalled how all the influential guests at the banquet had been gravitating toward the “waitstaff” earlier. Now piecing things together, they muttered with regret:

“No wonder all those bigwigs were so respectful toward them… They must’ve recognized who these people really were!”

“I should’ve known the Marquis couple had discerning eyes—they wouldn’t approve of some smooth-talking nobody. Their future son-in-law was never going to be someone ordinary. I should’ve seen it sooner!”

Meanwhile, the very same “discerning” Marquis couple were anxiously shielding their youngest son, carefully covering Si Qi’s eyes to keep him from seeing the bloodshed. Faces filled with disbelief, they watched several transcendent beings speaking to Chu Feng with deep respect, asking how he wanted the situation handled…

With a trembling voice, the Marquis finally said:

“Y-You… Chu Feng… who exactly are you?”

Notes

1. A vest means a person having another hidden idenity ↩︎

A world polluted by evil gods (12): A group of sweeping monks

Si Qi would rather face an ambush of a hundred Omniscient Church followers than deal with this kind of disaster.

He glanced at Chu Feng, who smiled awkwardly and said, “You didn’t come downstairs for breakfast this morning, and you weren’t in your room, so…”

Neither Andel nor Si Qi knew that Chu Feng was aware Si Qi was the Legion Commander—and that he had a double. Andel knew Si Qi had been in Chu Feng’s room at the time, and didn’t dare go downstairs in his place. If Chu Feng discovered that Si Qi was sleeping upstairs while also eating downstairs, it would have been a catastrophe.

As a result, when the Marchioness noticed that Si Qi hadn’t come down for breakfast, she worried he might be unwell and unable to get out of bed, so she went upstairs and knocked on his door.

When the door opened and she found the room empty, terrified that something might have happened to Si Qi, the Marchioness quickly called everyone in the household to search for him.

And then…

Then they found Si Qi in Chu Feng’s room, lying on Chu Feng’s bed, dead asleep.

Along with the mess of Si Qi and Chu Feng’s clothes scattered on the floor.

Si Qi didn’t even want to imagine how Chu Feng had endured the gazes of two parents and one older brother in that moment—it had to be the kind of embarrassment one would never forget for a lifetime.

Although… it was still very awkward even now.

The Marchioness and Marquis, who had witnessed the scene, were devastated. They didn’t dare wake the sleeping Si Qi, fearing the boy might mentally collapse from the trauma of being “violated.” Everyone withdrew from the room. The always gentle Marchioness was so distraught she couldn’t stop crying, trying to punch Chu Feng with fists that were too weak from grief to land a single blow. The Marquis had to coax and support her away.

Only the congressman remained, scolding Chu Feng with the darkest, most terrifying tone, threatening to tie a rope around Chu Feng’s leg, attach the other end to a train, and drag him to death for this unforgivable act—grinding his flesh and bones into the tracks until nothing was left but dust. Chu Feng could tell the congressman was truly furious, so he braced himself and explained that he and Si Qi had actually been dating for a while—and last night, it was Si Qi who came to him after drinking too much.

The congressman’s expression was indescribable—he had personally poured those drinks for Si Qi. He looked like a dragon that had guarded a treasure for centuries, only to open the vault door himself and let a despicable thief snatch the treasure right from under his nose. He glared at Chu Feng with clenched teeth, wanting to kill him, but afraid that if his little brother woke up and found out he had indirectly caused his boyfriend’s death, he would be heartbroken. His emotions were a complete mess.

Fortunately, he still had a sliver of reason. Seeing that the room belonged to Chu Feng and not to his brother, it meant Chu Feng hadn’t sneaked into Si Qi’s bedroom—Si Qi had come to him. (After all, Chu Feng had returned later than Si Qi the night before.) Forcing himself to calm down, he asked what exactly had happened last night.

Chu Feng, incredibly embarrassed, explained that Si Qi had gotten drunk, acted impulsively, and suddenly came to his room looking for him, and then…

And then what, Chu Feng didn’t say—but both men understood very well.

The congressman began pacing the hallway without any composure, one moment pressing his hands against the wall, the next knocking his head against it. He undid his suit buttons and tie, squatted down and grabbed his head in despair.

After a long while, with red eyes and a hoarse voice, he said, “If you ever betray my brother, I swear I’ll make you regret being born into this world.”

Chu Feng nodded immediately and promised, “I won’t. I truly love him—just as much as you all love him.”

The congressman didn’t reply. He stood at the door, exhausted, head bowed, waiting in silence.

He waited from early morning until noon before he finally heard movement inside. Then the door opened, and his disheveled little brother came out, clothes askew, hair messy, with unmistakable finger and kiss marks on the pale skin beneath his shirt.

The congressman wanted to beat someone up again.

But more than that, he was worried about his precious brother. Cautiously, he asked, “Sweetheart, are you okay? Are you feeling unwell?”

Si Qi: “…” Even if he were, he couldn’t admit it.

Si Qi cleared his throat, lowered his head shyly, and said, “Brother… why are you here…”

Congressman: “Oh, nothing. I just happened to be passing by.”

Si Qi: “Oh…”

Seeing only embarrassment on Si Qi’s face and no sadness, confirming that Si Qi had indeed been willing last night and hadn’t been forced by Chu Feng, the congressman forced a smile and said, “Alright, it’s getting late. Go wash up and come downstairs for lunch.”

“Okay.” The “pure young boy” who thought his brother hadn’t figured anything out, completely unaware that his brother knew everything, bashfully ran back to his own room.

Only after Si Qi left did the congressman start kicking the wall in rage with his polished leather shoes, venting all the fury in his chest until he was out of breath. Then he turned to glare viciously at Chu Feng and said, “Later, you’re taking Xiao Qi to see a doctor—and get him some medicine!”

If he or his mother took Si Qi, the kid would be too embarrassed to face them. He could only leave it to Chu Feng, and then go tell the rest of the family not to bring up what happened last night, so the younger one wouldn’t feel awkward.

Also, he had to go reassure his mother, who had misunderstood everything earlier, and explain the truth—otherwise the poor woman might really faint from grief over her “tragically wronged” youngest son.

…

After finally pulling herself together, the Marchioness, eyes swollen from crying, saw her youngest son appear at the dining table.

Si Qi, seeing her state, asked worriedly, “Mom, what happened to your eyes? Did you cry?”

“No, no. I just had a bit of an allergy,” the Marchioness said, her voice hoarse and choking back tears.

“Oh no, you must be careful and take care of your health,” Si Qi said, setting down his utensils and walking over to her, holding her cold hands. “Did you ask the family doctor to come check on you?”

“Yes, yes, don’t worry, Mommy is fine…” the Marchioness couldn’t help tearing up again. “My poor baby…”

Si Qi felt a little uncomfortable, but didn’t show it. He smiled and said, “I’m not pitiful at all. I have the best mom and dad in the world, and my brother too! I’m happy every day. I love you all.”

“Yes, yes…” the woman hugged her child tightly, unable to stop the tears from falling again.

The Marquis gently patted his wife’s back. The Marchioness sniffled, let go of Si Qi, and wiped her tears with a handkerchief. “Alright, go eat now. Once the food gets cold, it’s bad for your stomach.”

She let Si Qi return to his meal, while she sat beside him, quietly watching.

Once she was sure Si Qi’s expression was normal—just as her eldest son had said, showing no sign of sadness—her heart felt conflicted and she didn’t know how to begin. After a long while, she gently said, “Child, you’re already an adult. If you’ve met someone you like, don’t keep it from your mother.”

The fork in Si Qi’s hand paused, and his face flushed slightly. He glanced cautiously at his family, who were all looking at him expectantly, and whispered, “N-no…”

“Really? If you lie to Mommy, I’ll be sad.”

Hearing that would make his mother sad, the boy who had been about to lie immediately looked uneasy. His face turned red, and after the family patiently waited, he finally squeezed out two words: “I… I do…”

The Marchioness’s eyes welled up again, but she still forced herself to smile gently and ask in the kindest voice, “Who is it? Can you bring them to meet Mom?”

“It’s… it’s…” Si Qi stammered, burying his head in his chest and muttering in embarrassment, “It’s a boy…”

The Marchioness clutched her chest—her heart ached again. She took a deep breath and said, “A boy is fine too. I’m not an old-fashioned person.”

Si Qi suddenly looked up, eyes bright and shining. His look of surprise and joy made the Marchioness forget all her earlier pain—if Si Qi liked someone, what did her feelings matter? If Si Qi was happy, she could accept anyone.

“Really?”

“Really,” the Marchioness said, her eyes red but her smile incredibly gentle. “As long as it’s someone Xiao Qi loves, Mom will love him too.”

Si Qi instinctively glanced at Chu Feng, completely unaware that the rest of the family was also watching Chu Feng with complex expressions. Si Qi smiled and said, “I… I like Brother Chu Feng…”

Maybe afraid that the parents would be shocked or angry, the boy shrank his neck a little and didn’t dare look at them.

But after a moment of silence, his older brother suddenly said, “So it’s Chu Feng? He’s a good guy—witty, reliable, and good-looking. He’ll definitely take good care of you.”

Si Qi looked up in delight. “You think so too, Brother?!”

The Marchioness also smiled warmly. “No wonder Xiao Qi is always sticking to Mr. Chu. So you two are dating?”

The Marquis, sitting quietly to the side, didn’t say a word. But since he didn’t object, that meant he agreed.

Seeing that all the adults were supportive, the boy was overjoyed. He even started eating with bigger bites than usual, his cheerful expression making the adults feel both sour and soft-hearted.

Chu Feng, seeing that the family had accepted their relationship, stepped forward and said, “I’ll spend my whole life with Xiao Qi and protect him forever.”

The Marquis looked at Chu Feng expressionlessly for a long time before suddenly saying, “In that case, pick a day and get engaged. Make the relationship official.”

Si Qi’s hand trembled, and he almost let an inappropriate expression slip.

“You’re not going to refuse, right?” the Marquis said to Chu Feng. “Our family’s conditions are good. If you want to do business in the Imperial Capital, having this connection will be beneficial for you.”

At the same time, because of this relationship, unless a woman was utterly brainless, she wouldn’t dare throw herself at Chu Feng anymore. Doing so wouldn’t bring benefits—it would only offend the entire Marquis household.

Chu Feng understood the Marquis’s message, but he didn’t think it was a bad thing. He nodded and said, “Thank you. I won’t let you down.”

Only then did the Marquis’s expression soften slightly. He sighed and fell silent again.

As everyone took turns finalizing things, Si Qi wasn’t even given a chance to speak. By the time they were done, the boy—who had always been used to following the adults’ arrangements—found it too late to protest.

But deep down, Si Qi was actually willing.

Before he left, he also wanted to experience what it felt like to walk into a church hand in hand with the one he loved, blessed by family and friends. That would surely be a very happy thing.

As for whether it would burden Chu Feng…

With Chu Feng’s strength, if he truly wanted to do something, was there anyone who could stop him? The fact that Chu Feng had said what he did meant that he was willing too.

So in the end, despite his hesitation, Si Qi didn’t voice any objection and just agreed.

…

…

The news that the young master of the Marquis’ household was going to marry a wealthy businessman from out of town spread throughout the entire capital in just a few days.

If this had happened in any other typical noble family, such a marriage alliance between nobility and a businessman—where both sides get what they want—wouldn’t have been surprising at all in this era where aristocracy was in decline. Everyone understood the transaction behind it.

But this time, the subject was the Marquis’ family—one of the wealthiest and most powerful families in the Imperial Capital. They owned makeup and wine industries that were practically money-printing machines, and had the support of a prominent congressman son in Parliament. The amount they donated to charity each year alone could support several noble households. Why would they need to sell off their youngest son to secure a businessman’s fortune?

So, instead of hearing people mock them—like “look how far the nobility has fallen, needing to marry into business to stay afloat”—people were instead envious of the lucky businessman, jealous that he had somehow fooled the innocent young master of the Marquis family with sweet words and landed himself a bright and boundless future.

“I heard the young master is gentle and sweet, nothing like those difficult noble ladies. He’s like an angel.”

“I’ve seen him before—he really is a beautiful person. Even without the powerful family behind him, just being with him is something to be jealous of.”

“Not to mention he’s in poor health. Who knows how long he’ll live… Even if the Marquis family were heartless, they wouldn’t expect that businessman to remain single for life. He doesn’t need to worry about loneliness in the future.”

“It’s just too unfair. How did that guy get so lucky?”

Many nobles were green with envy at Chu Feng’s fortune, and when they talked about it among themselves, their tone was inevitably tinged with sourness.

After enough gossip circulated, people began to take it as fact that Chu Feng was just a lucky outsider. On the day of the engagement banquet, when they finally saw him—and saw the “assistants” he had summoned from the legion—many couldn’t help but look at him through a tinted lens.

“My god, could this businessman not hire a proper team of professionals to organize this banquet? He dragged in a bunch of unemployed peasants from his backwater town? I’ve seen more disabled people than I can count! The scars on their faces will give me nightmares!”

“Look at the calluses on their hands! Even our busiest maids don’t look that rough.”

“Someone is selling egg pancakes at such a high-class event?! I nearly passed out!”

“…But why are so many important guests lined up at that egg pancake stall? Is that the new trend in the capital now?”

In fact, those high-profile guests had never expected that they would attend an engagement banquet and end up standing in line for pancakes.

When they arrived at the venue and saw men and women walking past them in elegant butler uniforms—who, no matter how you looked at them, still seemed more like thugs—they began to suspect they had come to the wrong place.

But when the Marquis and Marchioness, along with the congressman, personally greeted them with less-than-pleasant expressions, they had to accept that this was, indeed, the right place.

“If you need more staff, I can send my butler to bring over some maids and footmen,” a few important guests offered, trying to help.

“No, no need,” said the Marquis couple helplessly. “For some reason, all the staff we hired were delayed on the road. These people had received favors from Chu Feng before, and offered to help when they heard the news. Once our original staff arrives, they’ll replace them.”

The guests looked puzzled. “How could such a thing happen? Could it have been intentional…?”

The Marquis couple didn’t answer, but when they thought about how these people “just happened” to show up and solve the problem—while also “coincidentally” all had uniforms that fit—they couldn’t help but suspect that this whole thing was premeditated. That maybe someone had deliberately taken this opportunity to make the Marquis household look bad.

Especially considering how crude and unruly these people were. They completely ignored the butler’s instructions and shamelessly went about doing their “old trades”—like flipping pancakes—almost driving the typically graceful and mild-tempered couple to the brink of madness.

They decided to go talk to Chu Feng, to tell him that no matter what, he had to do something. They couldn’t allow so many people to laugh at them—especially not at their precious youngest son. If people kept using this incident to mock Si Qi every time he came up in conversation, it would be a humiliation of the highest order.

After greeting the major guests, the couple left to find Chu Feng. The important guests left behind looked at each other in confusion. A moment later, they shook their heads with a wry smile and said, “As expected of an outsider merchant—so uncultured.”

But in the very next moment, they noticed that their bodyguards—hired at great expense—were standing stiffly behind them, faces pale with fear and tension.

“What’s wrong?” One of the important guests immediately tensed. “What happened?”

One of the bodyguards was visibly shaking as he said, “T-that man over there flipping pancakes… he’s… he’s incredibly strong!”

The guest froze. “But aren’t you…”

After glancing around to make sure no one else was listening, the guest lowered his voice. “You possess two sealed artifacts. You’ve never lost a fight. Are you certain that man is that powerful?”

“Absolutely certain,” said the bodyguard, who usually looked down on everyone—even royalty—his face now full of dread. “Not just him. That waiter over there sneaking a drink… and the butler cleaning the silverware… all of them are terrifyingly strong!”

The important figure tensed up and said in disbelief, “What did you just say? How is that possible? Are you telling me all of them possess sealed artifacts? Didn’t you say the imperial capital is well-managed by the Temple Knights, and there aren’t that many people with such power…”

“I don’t know!” The bodyguard was so frightened he was nearly having a breakdown. “It’s too dangerous here. There are so many transcendents gathered in this place—what are they planning?!”

The important figure pursed his lips and frowned deeply in thought.

Like him, the other high-ranking guests each heard the same news from their own bodyguards and were shocked that such a small banquet venue was hiding so many formidable figures. A few of them, being seasoned veterans of political games, not only weren’t frightened away, but even tried to approach and talk with these so-called transcendents. Despite being mocked and scorned by them—who clearly didn’t regard the capital’s officials as anything worth noticing—they remained polite and deferential.

If they could win over such people, bringing them to their side, it might be a golden opportunity to eliminate rivals and rise in power.

Or at the very least, they could leave a good impression—just in case they ever accidentally offended someone from that world, maybe this connection would save their lives.

Everyone who had made it to their position in the capital knew one thing: it was better to offend the king or Parliament than to offend a transcendent. You could still wrestle with the former over money and power, or cut your losses and escape. But the latter played by no rules—if you said the wrong thing one day, they might just show up and kill you, and there’d be no one to appeal to.

Especially since out of ten transcendents, at least eight were lunatics—and the last one was particularly insane. They didn’t care about money or power, yet each of them was more mysterious and terrifying than the last. No one knew how to deal with them.

After being brushed off with comments like “don’t bother me while I’m working,” these cunning bigwigs quickly adjusted their approach. Bravely, and despite the horrified looks from their own bodyguards—who clearly thought this was suicidal—they politely asked if they could have a drink or some clean utensils from the transcendents, since that was exactly what the latter were currently doing.

The bodyguards thought for sure that the transcendents would explode with rage and bash their employers’ heads in. But instead, the transcendents looked… happy.

Finally, someone came over asking for a drink! One of them cheerfully put down the bottle and poured a glass of wine for the VIP.

The important figure accepted it with a mix of gratitude and fear. He didn’t dare drink it—he had a gut feeling that anything touched by these people was dangerous. Carefully, he asked, “Forgive me for asking, but someone like you working as a server here—is there some special reason for that?”

The transcendent took another swig from his stolen bottle, looked at the guest with an amused smile, and said, “Drink the wine, and I’ll tell you.”

“…”

Since the transcendent himself was drinking, the guest figured it probably wasn’t poisoned and downed the wine in one go, face flushing. “Can you tell me now?”

The transcendent topped off his glass again and replied, “Did I say just one glass? I said the whole bottle.”

“…”

The important figure knew he was being played, but didn’t dare object. Gritting his teeth, he finished the entire bottle, one glass at a time. By the end, he was dizzy and about ready to pass out.

Only then did the transcendent casually say, “Why am I a server? Because I want to be a server~~”

Leaving behind that clearly meaningless response, he happily bounced off to fetch another bottle of wine.

He seemed genuinely pleased with how quickly and efficiently he had poured the wine—convinced he’d done an excellent job as a server.

Behind him, the VIP’s bodyguard was drenched in cold sweat, supporting his dazed employer like someone just returned from the brink of death. Quietly, he said with gratitude, “You handled that perfectly. If you hadn’t finished that wine, he definitely would’ve held a grudge.”

And with a transcendent’s volatile personality, that grudge would’ve led to revenge—and it would be the bodyguard who’d suffer for it.

The still-dizzy VIP gave a wry smile. “You warned me before about how to deal with transcendents. Of course I wouldn’t go against that advice…”

“Shall I take you out of here?” the bodyguard asked uneasily.

“No. I can’t.”

With great danger often comes great opportunity. Every high-ranking figure who’d made it this far was a gambler willing to take risks at critical moments. Cautious, conservative people never rise to the top—especially after that unsettling global catastrophe not long ago. Right now, without a few transcendents to protect them, no one felt truly safe.

His eyes locked onto a seemingly “easier” target: the egg pancake stall.

“Eating an egg pancake should be fine…” he muttered.

And so he, along with a number of other bigwigs who’d also noticed something off about the vendor, all made their way over. When they caught each other’s eye, they exchanged knowing smiles.

“Could I have an egg pancake, please?”

The burly vendor with one missing leg looked at them in surprise and delight. “Of course! What filling would you like?”

This pancake vendor—who moonlighted as an Executor—had been standing there feeling glum while noble ladies sneered at him, questioning why someone like him would be allowed in such a place. He’d been sad and dejected, worried he wouldn’t complete his task.

But now, so many people wanted to eat his egg pancakes! He was overjoyed and greeted them warmly.

None of the VIPs had ever eaten this kind of street food before—they wouldn’t even glance at it under normal circumstances—but they smiled and said, “Whatever you recommend is fine.”

The vendor gave a hearty laugh. “Got it, boss!” Then, with practiced speed, he cracked eggs and started cooking. He really did look like a hard-working street vendor—ordinary and diligent—not a powerful, dangerous transcendent at all.

However, having personally heard from their bodyguards about the other party’s formidable strength, they naturally weren’t foolish enough to question them face-to-face. On the contrary, they respectfully addressed them as “sir” with every sentence, warmly asking various questions, casually probing into their background as if they were just making small talk.

Their lively back-and-forth conversation left the nobles—who had earlier looked down on Chu Feng and found the whole banquet as laughable as a circus—completely baffled.

That confusion peaked when Her Highness the Royal Princess , the king’s most beloved daughter and the most beautiful red rose of the empire, made her appearance.

They saw the princess, full of grace and dignity, engaging in an animated conversation with an old man who clearly looked like he came from a lowly background. She even greeted an uncouth old woman passing by with familiarity and warmth… Everything about it was utterly incomprehensible.

Just what kind of power did these people—called in by that merchant to help—possess, that made so many high-ranking figures treat them with such deference?

A world polluted by evil gods (11): Oh yell, Shura field¹!

“Ahem, ahem…”

His internal organs were severely damaged. Blood gushed out from various parts of Si Qi’s body like a spring, flooding his throat and causing him to cough up mouthfuls of blood uncontrollably. His eyes became vacant, gradually losing focus.

As the sunlight overhead faded from its peak intensity at two in the afternoon, the borrowed power began to demand repayment without mercy. All the previously healed wounds erupted at once, exploding back open with tenfold or hundredfold the original cost. This was the price of making a deal with a forbidden object.

Si Qi slowly lost the ability to think. His chaotic will began taking control of his body step by step. He could feel himself dying, his rational mind about to be swallowed by the source of contamination, turning him into a puppet of the sealed object.

But he didn’t dare lose control. He clung to the pain with all his strength, trying to retain a shred of clarity.

He knew that if he lost all reason, his instincts would push him to do whatever it took to survive.

He would take out the sealed object and drain every bit of life from this land to restore himself. He would slaughter every human in sight, devouring their blood to fill the void inside him. Stripped of all limits, he would be far more powerful than his rational self. But by then, he would no longer be himself.

With trembling hands, Si Qi tried to draw a weapon to slit his own throat. But with all his bones shattered and his flesh mangled beyond recognition, he couldn’t move at all.

All he could do was vaguely see the strange forbidden object running back and forth inside his head, pulling odd things out of something shaped like a leaf and messing around wildly with his body.

In the haze, he seemed to see Chu Feng’s figure. He summoned all his strength to grasp Chu Feng’s sleeve with his fingers and, with a stubborn and fierce gaze, said, “Kill… me…”

Chu Feng said nothing. He scooped Si Qi into his arms. There was a broken sob stuck in his throat, and he held Si Qi tightly as he flew out of the sinkhole with him.

Igor was the first to rush over.

“Commander!!!”

Chu Feng didn’t waste a word: “Where is the healing sealed object?!”

Igor cried tears of joy. “I have it! I brought it with me!!”

Seeing that Si Qi was still breathing and hadn’t completely lost his mind, Igor had never felt more grateful to the gods above. He pulled out the sealed object, but suddenly remembered its side effects and hesitated for a split second.

The next second, countless figures suddenly descended in front of the three of them, and Igor’s ecstatic expression instantly turned grim.

But before he could fight these people to the death, the deputy commander led several dozen dark figures to their side and shouted loudly, “Take the commander and leave!”

Igor didn’t hesitate. Together with Chu Feng and under the protection of the others, they broke through the encirclement. In the blink of an eye, they left most of the enemies behind. Only a few continued chasing and launched attacks from the rear.

These people would never pass up the chance to personally kill the commander of the Temple Knights, let alone allow a sealed object that was clearly at SS-level to fall into the hands of the Temple Knights.

But their determination was useless. Chu Feng swallowed a crystalline divine power, and an invisible aura spread around him. In an instant, he “crushed” the forbidden objects in the enemies’ hands into powder.

Igor was initially alarmed to see him attempt to ingest divine power, afraid he would lose control like the Great Emperor and cause another world-scale disaster.

Unexpectedly, Chu Feng was highly compatible with the forbidden object. In a split second, he gained control over the divine power that even the Great Emperor had struggled to command, wielding it as easily as an extension of his own body.

The collective “death” of the forbidden objects stunned the fanatical cultists. These mad worshipers of the evil god, whose brains had long gone deranged, never imagined they would one day fall from being the “evangelists of a great deity” back to powerless mortals.

Igor mercilessly knocked them all out and left them to be dealt with by other enforcers. He carried Si Qi back to their base and gently laid him on the bed.

The blood flowing from Si Qi quickly soaked the mattress. Igor took a deep breath, his hand trembling as he pulled out the sealed object, and said to Chu Feng, “The price of using this sealed object is ‘pain.’ To heal wounds with it will cause pain a hundred or a thousand times greater. The extreme pain can drive a person mad… but I don’t dare let him fall unconscious.”

He didn’t know if Si Qi, once unconscious, would be completely overtaken by the contamination. If that happened, even if his body was healed, his core self might be replaced—and then the treatment would be meaningless, only bringing about an even greater catastrophe.

Chu Feng said, “Give it to me. I’ll use it.”

Igor replied, “No! I want to stay by his side!”

Chu Feng said, “If he loses his mind, you’ll be the first one he kills when the pain begins.”

“Then I’ll accept that willingly!”

Igor didn’t look at Chu Feng again. After informing him of the potential consequences, he looked at Si Qi on the bed with deep concern and aimed the forbidden object at his body.

A pale, soft glow swept over Si Qi. It looked gentle.

But in truth, this sealed object was mostly used to torture prisoners for confessions. The moment the light enveloped Si Qi, his body convulsed uncontrollably from the pain. He jerked violently and let out a cry of agony. His screams were loud and anguished. As his wounds healed, his skeletal fingers clutched the sheets tightly. The moment he regained a bit of strength, he lashed out at Igor’s throat—trying to get rid of that damned sealed object!

Chu Feng immediately stepped in front of Igor and carefully held Si Qi’s hand.

His palm, impervious to blades and axes, was easily scratched by Si Qi’s seemingly fragile nails. But the wounds healed instantly under the powerful restorative force of the divine essence.

By now, Chu Feng had understood the reason for Si Qi’s sudden drop in strength. He felt a pang of regret: if the commander hadn’t handed the divine essence over to him, he wouldn’t have been this gravely injured and wouldn’t have struggled so much to defeat the Great Emperor.

In fact, if the commander had consumed the divine essence himself, he could have even taken full control of the divine power. With the divine essence as a buffer, the commander would have had a much easier time mastering the power than the Great Emperor. Even the pollution of his chaotic soul might have been effectively suppressed.

In a way, if Chu Feng hadn’t appeared, Si Qi could have carried everything on his own. He could have forcibly extended his life using all kinds of rare resources and held on until the end. But once he met Chu Feng, for the sake of Chu Feng’s superior physique and higher chance of success, he chose to give everything to his successor—and step off the stage himself.

For a brief moment, Chu Feng even felt like his appearance was a death sentence—he had taken all the good things from Si Qi, and then pushed him to exchange his own life for one final, most precious treasure to give him.

Chu Feng held tightly onto Si Qi’s hand, his heart full of guilt.

Then, in the next second, something happened that made him lose control of his emotions even more.

Si Qi’s whole body was trembling uncontrollably from the pain, but his gaze remained fixed on Chu Feng, who had suddenly entered his field of vision. It was as if, even in such a frenzied and delirious state, Si Qi could still recognize who he was. Quietly, obediently, he looked at him, stayed still in place as requested, enduring the excruciating treatment that felt like a thousand cuts, unwilling to look away from him even for a second.

A faint sob escaped from Chu Feng’s throat as he sat weakly by the bedside. He gazed at Si Qi with gentle eyes, his hand softly brushing through Si Qi’s blood-soaked hair before placing a kiss on his head.

Igor, standing off to the side, saw the two of them locked in that gaze. His eyes were filled with complicated emotions. But in the end, he did nothing—he just bowed his head in frustration, his eyes rimmed red.

Xiu Xiu wasn’t paying much attention to the situation outside. It was completely focused on finding a way to save its master. The small body flipped back and forth inside the vast space of the World Tree’s leaves, racking its little brain to recall whether anything there could heal Si Qi’s body. Once it found something, it quietly activated the invisible mech to apply it to Si Qi, watching the broken body slowly regenerate bit by bit. After observing cautiously for a very long time, it finally let out a small sigh of relief a few hours later.

Idiot, idiot, idiot! Xiu Xiu smacked its own head with its noodle-like claws and scolded itself.

Couldn’t you have thought of a solution earlier? You had to let the master suffer so much, you big fool!

Looking at Si Qi, who had barely recovered and now lay weakly in deep sleep, Xiu Xiu gently reached out in his direction through the consciousness space and whispered:

[You must get better soon, Master.]

[Xiu Xiu will always stay by your side.]

…

While Si Qi was being treated, the deputy commander and others guarded the base, fending off the never-ending waves of attacks. Only after confirming that Si Qi was out of danger did Chu Feng step out of the house. A formless aura burst from him, and the frustration that had been pent up for too long made him momentarily lose control of his strength—he flattened everyone present in one blow. Even the enforcers who were clearly on the same side as him looked at him with terrified eyes.

Only then did Chu Feng slowly realize just how much more intimidating he had become to these people after mastering his new power. If people once respected him when he merely possessed the divine essence, now they feared him outright.

As for why Igor didn’t react that way…

Perhaps human willpower really could rival that of the gods sometimes.

Even when Chu Feng’s charm was at its peak and all the enforcers were drawn to him, Igor had always been immune—his heart and mind focused only on Si Qi.

Now that Si Qi was gravely injured, Igor’s entire being was tied to him. How could he notice any changes in Chu Feng?

That was why it wasn’t until now, after swallowing the divine power, that Chu Feng began to clearly perceive the changes in himself and realize just how powerful he had become.

After all, this was the same forbidden object that had allowed a completely non-combatant emperor to fight the commander to a draw. Now that it had fallen into Chu Feng’s hands—someone it was incredibly compatible with—this kind of outcome wasn’t surprising at all.

With the divine power’s ownership transferred, the previously scattered rule force was reined in. Natural disasters occurring around the world vanished, and people who had endured two full days of catastrophe finally escaped from the brink of doom.

Although the tragedies that had already occurred could not be undone, at least the living still had a future to look forward to. That was already the best possible outcome.

Once Si Qi fully woke up, the now significantly diminished team could finally return home in peace.

Upon regaining consciousness, Si Qi calmly resumed his duties. He began methodically handling affairs such as taking over the neighboring territory, coordinating global post-disaster reconstruction, and using Chu Feng’s power to strike effectively at the living forces of hostile organizations—all matters that concerned him deeply.

He knew he didn’t have much time left. Even though his body had recovered, he could feel that his mental state was far worse than before the battle. The sense of losing control kept creeping in. This was the side effect of using too many forbidden objects at high intensity. Si Qi had no solution for it. All he could do was try to get as much done as possible before he completely broke down—to make the most of his remaining strength.

Meanwhile, the Mirror of Truth, which had been so certain Si Qi would die in battle, was completely baffled. It couldn’t comprehend what power had saved Si Qi during the emperor’s self-destruction. This was already the third time its prophecy had proven wrong. At this rate, it was starting to seriously consider changing its name to the Mirror of Lies—because there was nothing truthful about it anymore.

So when Si Qi saw it again, the mirror was fake-crying.

“I didn’t die. Are you very upset?” Si Qi, for once, teased a sealed object.

The Mirror of Truth didn’t see it as a joke at all. To it, this was a blatant threat. In a defeated tone, it said, “You made my rule flawed. I’m no longer the most perfect forbidden object in the world.”

Si Qi raised an eyebrow slightly, sensing the mirror had something more to say. He asked directly, “Then who is the most perfect forbidden object now?”

The Mirror of Truth sighed. “Give me a day of sincerity.”

Si Qi: “…”

Mirror of Truth: “I’m still a forbidden object, you know. You ask me questions and I don’t charge you? Do I not have any pride?”

Si Qi: “You can choose not to answer.”

Mirror of Truth: “No! I insist on answering! Why should someone as excellent as me be sealed away, waiting around every day like a lonely concubine hoping to be favored, while that guy gets to roam free outside and is even worshipped by a bunch of idiots as a holy relic? I want it to suffer as miserably as I do!”

Standing behind Si Qi, Chu Feng—seeing the legendary SS-level sealed object “Mirror of Truth” for the first time—smiled and said, “What a uniquely spirited forbidden object.”

The Mirror of Truth gave Chu Feng a “look” but, in a rare moment, didn’t tease him the way it usually teased Si Qi or Igor. It pretended not to notice him—completely chickened out.

Si Qi noticed this detail but didn’t point it out. He casually let a drop of blood fall onto the mirror’s surface. The mirror then promptly betrayed the “Omniscient Scroll”—the most sacred artifact of The Omniscient Church and the origin of its name—exposing every detail about it. It even helpfully provided the exact location and method for its destruction.

“This thing’s rule overlaps with mine. I’ve disliked it for a long time,” the Mirror of Truth said snidely. “Go destroy it.”

But none of what it said afterward was believed by Si Qi and the others.

When it didn’t charge a price, not a single word from it could be trusted.

The three of them left the dangerous underground chamber while the Mirror of Truth waved a tiny handkerchief with exaggerated reluctance. Igor said, “It said the two forbidden objects have overlapping rules. That’s probably fake. Even if they’re similar, their actual effects are definitely different.”

Si Qi: “It voluntarily leaked this information, which already shows it’s trying to harm us.”

Chu Feng: “But the location and method to destroy the Omniscient Scroll are real.”

Si Qi nodded. “So it’s an open trap.”

For a forbidden object on the same level as the Mirror of Truth, no matter the reason, the Temple must secure and contain it.

Xiu Xiu cautiously poked its head out and said to Si Qi: [Master, actually, as long as the Evil God is defeated, all these forbidden objects will be weakened. You don’t have to worry too much about them.]

It was deeply worried that Si Qi might encounter unexpected danger from these troublesome objects before he could kill the Evil God—completely missing the main objective.

Si Qi paused slightly but didn’t respond.

Just as Xiu Xiu instinctively assumed Si Qi would ignore him again, Si Qi suddenly said: [You really are the most unusual forbidden object I’ve ever seen.]

Xiu Xiu, pitiful and teary-eyed: [Xiu Xiu really isn’t one of those things… Xiu Xiu was created by the Lord God, and has nothing at all to do with the Evil God…]

Si Qi: [The ‘Lord God’ you’re talking about—do you mean Chu Feng? And you said Chu Feng is this world’s god. So just like how Evil Gods give rise to forbidden objects, you were also born under the influence of a god?]

Otherwise, how could a forbidden object keep going on and on about killing the Evil God, and even use mysterious powers to save him in the last battle—without demanding any price in return?

Xiu Xiu thought about it and could only reply: [If you want to think of it that way… that’s fine.]

Si Qi: [So, my instant fondness for Chu Feng when we met, and my compassion for you when I first saw you—it’s the same principle? Because I’m a creature of this world, I naturally feel a kind of instinctive affinity toward your kind of existence.]

Xiu Xiu was stunned. It froze in place, and then tears fell like strings of pearls, dripping to the ground. [Sob… sob… So Xiu Xiu… Xiu Xiu really wasn’t hated by Master? Sob sob sob…]

Seeing Xiu Xiu crying so miserably, Si Qi felt helpless. He conjured a hand to gently stroke its ugly little head, then was startled to realize he had somehow learned to do this.

How had he managed to manifest a form in such an intangible space?

Xiu Xiu, being the little fool it was, didn’t notice the “growth” of its master at all. It instinctively rubbed around in Si Qi’s palm, curling into a shape that gave it a deep sense of comfort, making sure every inch of itself was bathed in its master’s aura.

Si Qi finally asked the question he had long been wondering about: [The power you used to save me last time—what kind of price would be required to use it again?]

Xiu Xiu quickly replied: [No price, no price! It’s just that some things Master hasn’t converted using the world’s power before. To take them out, they need to be re-converted into this world’s matter using that power…]

Xiu Xiu’s explanation was a bit disorganized, but fortunately Si Qi understood it: [So the cost is ‘world power’? How do I obtain it?]

Xiu Xiu: [By making the world a better place.]

Si Qi felt a slight sense of relief. If such a thing could be used as “payment,” then no matter how he looked at it, this little creature named Xiu Xiu seemed to support the improvement of the world—unlike other forbidden objects, which grew stronger the more chaotic the world became.

Xiu Xiu: [Master used to have tons and tons of world power, and Xiu Xiu had a lot too!]

[But somehow, Master lost his memory and became so weak that even an evil god from a small world could hurt you… And all of the world power on Xiu Xiu was used up trying to find Master… Xiu Xiu doesn’t know what to do anymore… sob sob…]

[But it’s okay! The Lord God found Master, so we’ll definitely be fine! As long as the Lord God regains his memory, everything will be okay!]

What Xiu Xiu said was messy and overly complicated, sounding almost exactly like the kind of convoluted speech forbidden objects often used when trying to deceive people.

However, considering that Xiu Xiu had previously saved him and showed clear hostility toward the evil god, Si Qi thought maybe creations born under the influence of gods all talked in this strange, confusing way. He didn’t dwell on it too much and instead extracted the useful bits of information from the chaos, asking Xiu Xiu: [How much world power do I have left?]

He had been working to save the world for over a decade. No matter what, there should at least be a little left.

Xiu Xiu answered in a guilty tone: [Only seven percent… There used to be a lot, but more than half was absorbed by Xiu Xiu… I’m sorry, Master…]

[It’s fine.] If Xiu Xiu hadn’t said anything, Si Qi wouldn’t have been able to use even one percent, let alone seven. And considering that Xiu Xiu, after absorbing it, had woken up, told him so much, and even saved his life, Si Qi naturally didn’t mind.

Who would have thought that those three simple words would somehow hit another one of the little crybaby’s sore spots? Xiu Xiu burst into tears again: [Master, Master used to treat Xiu Xiu this well too! You never blamed me for being useless… sob sob sob…]

Si Qi: […]

After Xiu Xiu had finished crying and rubbed its head into Si Qi’s palm to dry its tears with his hand, Si Qi continued: [What can I do with the world power I have left?]

Xiu Xiu thought for a moment and tried to access the standard system shop used by world-travelers, but found it couldn’t be opened at all. It scratched its head, then pulled out a leaf from the World Tree, which it had been using as a blanket, and said to Si Qi: [Master, try opening this.]

[Open it?] It was just a little leaf. How was he supposed to open it? Tear it apart?

The wording felt confusing at first, but as soon as Si Qi focused his attention on the leaf, he suddenly felt as though his “vision” cleared. A kind of “display center” for countless items appeared before him.

It was vast, spacious, and well-organized.

Many items were completely unrecognizable to Si Qi, but just from appearance alone, it was easy to distinguish the subtle differences between them.

This thoroughly organized style was very much to Si Qi’s taste. He thought if it were up to him to organize everything, this is probably how he would do it too.

The only strange thing was that some items looked especially exquisite, while others—like stones or old yellowed notes—were mixed in among the clearly valuable things. What was going on with that?

Then Si Qi noticed one peculiar object: a humanoid figure entirely made of metal, as tall as the tallest skyscrapers in the country. The area around it was a complete mess, as if someone had ransacked it, making it particularly noticeable.

He asked about it, and Xiu Xiu responded awkwardly: [That was Xiu Xiu’s doing…]

At the time, Si Qi had been injured outside. Xiu Xiu, terrified that he might die, suddenly remembered it could locate that mech to help fight. In the rush, it didn’t pay attention to much else.

Si Qi didn’t say anything and looked toward a shelf filled with various liquids in beautiful glass bottles. That section, too, looked like it had been hit by a tornado—bottles tilted in all directions.

Xiu Xiu looked even more embarrassed: [Xiu Xiu lost part of its memory and has trouble recalling things clearly. I didn’t know which one was the healing potion…]

So it had rummaged through the entire collection for a long time before finally figuring it out.

Si Qi: [The healing potion? The one you used on me when I was unconscious?]

[Yes.] Xiu Xiu nodded and pointed its soft paw at a light yellow glass bottle: [All of these are healing potions.]

Then it looked at the other colored liquids and fell into deep thought: [But what are these pink and pale blue ones for…?]

It held its head and tried to remember but couldn’t recall anything.

Si Qi: [Can I use these things?]

Xiu Xiu immediately said: [Yes, yes! Of course you can! They all belong to Master!]

[Some items were previously exchanged by Master using World Power, so they can be taken out at any time. Some items aren’t available yet—for example, the snack shelf over there, the puddings and so on—if you want to use them, you’ll need to pay a bit of World Power. But Master clearly used to love eating pudding the most.]

Si Qi looked at the mountain of snacks piled in the corner like a sea of treats. He was momentarily speechless.

He said, [I don’t like pudding.]

And he certainly wouldn’t use something as precious as World Power to exchange for snacks.

Xiu Xiu: [???]

Xiu Xiu blinked and said dumbly, [But Master really used to love pudding the most, Xiu Xiu can’t be mistaken…]

After speaking, Xiu Xiu even pulled up recordings from previous worlds showing Si Qi happily enjoying puddings, with empty pudding containers scattered all around his feet.

Si Qi: “…………”

This little thing forgets everything else, but remembers this so clearly? Why?!

Xiu Xiu: “Hehe, anything related to Master, Xiu Xiu will never forget!”

Considering the healing potion from before had even better effects than the sealed objects Igor possessed—and didn’t even require a hefty price—Si Qi thought it over and took out a few vials of differently colored potions. He planned to have his subordinates study them closely, maybe they could even mass-produce them outside.

With how advanced technology was now—even inventions like trains and telegraphs had come into existence—maybe they could create things comparable to some of the miraculous sealed objects too?

And even if they couldn’t, it would still be useful to analyze their specific effects.

Chu Feng, Igor, and Si Qi were discussing matters as they walked, when Si Qi suddenly pulled out a few glass vials of liquid from his “pocket” and handed them to Igor, catching both men off guard.

Si Qi: “Send these to the science institute for testing. I want to know what they do exactly.”

Igor instinctively took the vials, nodded seriously, and agreed. Chu Feng glanced at the obviously-too-small pouch Si Qi had drawn them from, looking slightly puzzled. “Did you acquire another sealed object?”

Chu Feng was familiar with all the sealed objects in the Legion, and there was definitely nothing like what Si Qi had just shown. Where did he get this one?

Si Qi: “…Yeah.”

If Xiu Xiu counted as a sealed object, then sure.

Chu Feng’s tone turned a bit displeased: “You said you’d rest properly and stop going on dangerous missions.”

Even though the words were subordinate to superior, it carried the tone of a wife telling her husband not to smoke because of his health. Si Qi felt awkward: “I know what I’m doing.”

Igor chuckled beside them. He’d known Si Qi for many years, and this was the first time he’d ever seen the commander look so flustered—it was rather amusing.

Si Qi rubbed his nose, not knowing how to respond, and simply lowered his head while Chu Feng continued to scold him.

Chu Feng wasn’t wrong. After that major battle a few days ago, Si Qi clearly felt that his emotional control had been deteriorating. He’d experienced hallucinations and auditory illusions several times more frequently. Out of caution, he’d reduced the number of sealed objects he carried from over twenty to just thirteen. His combat power was far from what it used to be at its peak.

But rather than feel anxious, he felt more at ease than ever—because Chu Feng had long since surpassed his former strength, now several times stronger than he had been.

With Chu Feng guarding the Temple, it would certainly be safer than ever before.

Si Qi worked at the Legion for just a morning before Igor and Chu Feng gently suggested he return home to rest.

Si Qi understood this was their way of showing care. After handling the Legion’s affairs, the only thing still on his mind was his family. Spending more time with his parents and older brother in the time he had left might help stabilize his mental state.

After all, just reading the files on sealed objects—those descriptions that felt like mental contamination—was enough to leave anyone exhausted.

When Si Qi returned home, his parents were hosting a charity banquet to raise funds for families separated by recent natural disasters.

Because of Si Qi’s publicly weak constitution, his double typically only appeared in the latter half of banquets, or not at all. This time, since Si Qi came home in person, there was no need to switch—the double simply handed him a formal outfit to change into.

Just as he finished dressing and was about to leave, the double walked over and handed him two identical-looking items: “Your mother asked me to give these to you. She said they’ll help keep you healthy.”

Si Qi immediately recognized one of them as a sealed object and sighed: “What does it do this time?”

“It’ll make your complexion look better… I tested it, and it does. But it also worsens your condition and makes it harder to heal. Though paired with specific tools, it’s very effective in combat.” The double said gently, “Madam and Master don’t know these things—they really care about you.”

Thanks to the Temple Knights’ efforts, sealed objects rarely circulated domestically. For the marquis couple to obtain something like this, they must have gone to great lengths.

And because the Temple had done such a good job keeping the existence of “the other world” a secret, most people only heard rumors of miraculous items, unaware that they originated from evil gods and always required a terrible price.

“I know,” a soft look appeared in Si Qi’s eyes as the corners of his mouth lifted slightly. “They’re the best parents in the world.”

He wore the double’s replica and tucked the real sealed object into his room’s drawer. He’d seal it in the underground vault later—so long as he didn’t fall ill and trigger its rules, it would remain harmless.

Si Qi asked, “Did you arrest the person who sold them this?”

The double bowed: “Yes, already in custody.”

Si Qi nodded and stood up to leave. Seeing that he intended to go out just like that, the double carefully reminded him: “Would you like to put on a bit of makeup? When the Marchioness gave me the item just now, she seemed very happy to see my complexion looking better.”

Si Qi shook his head: “No need. They should start preparing for the truth—let them think they bought another fake again.”

Prepare…

Realizing what kind of “preparation” Si Qi was referring to, the double’s smile froze. A moment later, a trace of sadness appeared in his eyes, and he said, “Sir and Madam really love you, you…”

He took a deep breath and carefully offered a suggestion: “Actually, you could have someone pretend to be the young master for life, just to make them happy… I… I can’t bear to see them so sad.”

Si Qi looked at the double seriously and asked, “Do you still remember what your real face looked like?”

The double lowered his head and said nothing.

Si Qi reached out and lifted his face, looking at the now featureless, dough-like smooth face, and said, “I still remember, Andel. You once had a very beautiful face.”

“I volunteered for this, my lord…”

Si Qi replied, “That’s not a valid reason, Andel. If this continues, you’ll completely lose your facial features. You won’t even be able to eat or breathe. I’ve already asked too much of you—I can’t let anyone else become like this too.”

“I think they’d be willing…”

Si Qi raised an eyebrow slightly. “Then do you think my parents would be willing to be deceived for life? Especially at the cost of their ‘sons’ never being able to show their true faces. If they ever find out the truth, imagine how guilty they’d feel.”

Andel suddenly fell silent.

Si Qi softened his voice. “Don’t give them hope, understand?”

Andel nodded obediently. “I’m sorry, my lord. I’ll be careful.”

Watching Si Qi leave the bedroom and quietly close the door behind him, Andel stood in the warmly decorated room and furtively wiped the corner of his eye.

After Si Qi went downstairs, he immediately drew attention.

That was because as soon as he appeared, the marquis and marchioness, along with his talented older brother, all turned their attention to him. The movements of the three key figures at the banquet naturally drew the guests’ eyes, and before long, the topic of conversation shifted from the recent unsettling natural disasters to him.

None of these people dared to speak too loudly. They whispered among themselves, thinking their voices were low, but every word still reached Si Qi’s ears clearly—his body and senses were all still extremely sharp.

“The marquise just said the younger son’s complexion has improved and that he’ll recover soon, but he looks no different to me—actually, even paler than before…”

“Yeah, to be born into such a privileged family but not even have a healthy body… that’s tragic.”

“Tragic? Try being born into a family drowning in debt, where your parents expect you to restore the family’s former glory. Now that’s tragic. Look at the gems on that young master’s belt—that’s more than my entire family’s annual expenses.”

“Shh, keep your voice down.”

“I’m just saying. Honestly, if I could, I’d switch places with that young master. Even if I could only live another ten years, at least they’d be ten worry-free years. Not like me, struggling my whole life.”

“Look at the marquise’s expression. I think she’s about to cry. That smile of hers looks so forced.”

“At least she still has an outstanding older son.”

“Oh, now he is a remarkable gentleman. I heard that during the recent disasters all across the country, this congressman swiftly resolved many problems. His Majesty even praised him—he’s been all over the news lately.”

“Hey, do you guys know what those disasters really were about?”

At the mention of this topic, the ladies instinctively lowered their voices again, their eyes filled with both fear and a strange longing for supernatural forces. “One of my close friends was near the disaster zone. She said she saw someone in a black coat and silver mask appear and use mysterious powers to stop the catastrophe. It was that person from the legend…”

Another lady picked up the thread: “The Temple Knights?”

“Yes, the Temple Knights. I used to only vaguely hear of them—never imagined they were real.”

Their faces glowed with admiration and longing. “Just listen to that beautiful name. They’re our heroes, standing up during times of crisis, saving countless lives, preventing disaster.”

“I heard that if the Knights hadn’t eliminated the source of the disaster in time, it might still be going on.”

“In just two days, think of how many people died all over the world. It’s terrifying.”

“They say the commander of the Knights personally took down the demon that caused it all.”

“Right, and I heard the commander has golden hair and radiates golden light—like a sun god descending to earth.”

“One swing of his sword could cleave a mountain…”

The more they spoke, the more excited they got, eyes full of adoration. “He’s so powerful. I’d love to meet such a hero. Even a single night with him would be an unforgettable memory.”

“He must be incredibly handsome and tall.”

“With strong muscles that could lift us up effortlessly…”

The conversation began drifting in the wrong direction. Si Qi glanced at his own slender limbs, then compared his height, which barely reached his brother’s chin. His expression went blank.

“What’s wrong?” Seeing his little brother look up at him, the elder brother—clearly a devoted sibling—asked with concern, “Tired?”

“No,” Si Qi shook his head and pointed to the red wine in the man’s hand. “Brother, I’d like to try that.”

The congressman thought for a moment. “A little wine is good for your health, but too much will make you drunk. You can only have a little, understand?”

Si Qi nodded. “I understand, brother.”

“Good boy.” His brother called a waiter and poured Si Qi a small glass of champagne himself. “That’s all you can have.”

Si Qi looked at the drink—barely enough for a single sip—and obediently nodded. “Okay, brother.”

The marquis family’s wine was undoubtedly top-tier. The sweet, clear wine slid down his throat, leaving a mellow aftertaste lingering in his mouth. Si Qi licked his lips and said to his brother, “I want more.”

“You drank it that fast?” His brother was surprised. He examined Si Qi’s face carefully. “You’re not feeling unwell, are you?”

Si Qi shook his head. “No, it’s delicious. Can I have a bit more?”

Unable to resist his brother’s pleading gaze, the congressman hesitated, then gave in. “If you get drunk, I’ll send you straight back to your room. You wouldn’t want the ladies here to see you drunk, right?”

Si Qi smiled sweetly and cooed, “I won’t~”

The congressman looked at his brother helplessly, doting. “If Mother finds out, she’s going to scold me.”

Si Qi replied, “Then I’ll step forward and tell Mom it was all my fault.”

“You’re so sweet, always thinking of your brother.” The congressman stood by Si Qi’s side and, without realizing it, let him con his way into four more glasses. But by the fifth, even though Si Qi still looked fine, he refused.

Si Qi didn’t push further. After just getting a little tipsy, he “ran out of strength” and went back to his room to rest.

Later that evening, when Chu Feng returned to the marquis estate, the first thing he heard was how guests were just moments ago praising how powerful the commander of the Knights was—only to then whisper about how weak the marquis’ youngest son seemed.

Even though they were the same person, the stark contrast in impression was… oddly fascinating.

After greeting the three hosts of the marquis household and donating a generous amount of gold at the banquet for charity, some nobles who recognized Chu Feng’s identity began to discuss him with their companions. As expected, the topics revolved around his commoner background and the fact that he was currently staying as a guest at the marquis’ estate.

They made sour remarks like, “Merchants are just nouveau riche with money but no class.” Chu Feng pretended not to hear them. Once the banquet ended, he quietly returned to his room.

Unexpectedly, not long after lying down, someone suddenly knocked on his door. Judging by the sound of the footsteps, Chu Feng recognized that the person outside was Si Qi and quickly got up to open the door.

After gaining divine power, Chu Feng’s senses had become so sharp that he could easily hear the buzz of mosquitoes hundreds of meters away. He noticed Si Qi’s breathing was more hurried than usual and thought something might have happened, which made him feel a bit anxious.

Sure enough, when he opened the door, he saw Si Qi standing there with an unnaturally flushed face. His body was swaying, and his eyes were hazy, like someone with a fever. The sight startled Chu Feng.

“You… what’s wrong?” Chu Feng quickly stepped forward to support Si Qi, who nearly collapsed onto him. The moment his hand touched Si Qi’s skin, he noticed an abnormally high body temperature and instinctively wanted to call a doctor.

“Mmm, no.” Si Qi slurred his speech and forcefully grabbed Chu Feng’s hand, trying to stop him from walking away. He mumbled, “You, get in.”

Chu Feng caught a faint whiff of alcohol and asked instinctively, “You’ve been drinking?”

“Just, hehe, a little bit.” Si Qi stumbled into Chu Feng’s bedroom, his legs practically tripping over each other. He wriggled his way in like a snake and fell onto Chu Feng’s bed, declaring, “I’m not drunk!”

Chu Feng: “……”

He was clearly drunk.

But there was only a faint scent of alcohol on Si Qi. Given his usual tolerance as a legion commander, there was no way such a small amount would get him this drunk.

Si Qi lay on Chu Feng’s bed, covering his stomach and laughing nonstop as if something had hit his funny bone.

Chu Feng walked over, helpless at the sight of this scoundrel who had taken over his bed. He tried to lift him up, but Si Qi slapped his hand away. Chu Feng said, “It’s late, you should get some rest.”

Si Qi pouted unhappily. “It’s still early, still early!”

“It’s already past nine.”

“You’re kicking me out!!” Si Qi suddenly shouted, his eyes reddening at once. “You don’t want me, you won’t even let me stay in your room!!”

Chu Feng: “……”

So this is what the mighty legion commander looks like when he’s drunk? Thank goodness he wasn’t in his usual uniform—otherwise, facing him tomorrow would be way too awkward.

“Then who do you want to stay here? That guy—the one who left kiss marks on you?” Si Qi wailed.

Just a moment ago he had been laughing hysterically, but now Si Qi was suddenly overcome with grief, crying loudly into the bed. “You said you liked me, but then you slept with someone else… sob sob sob…”

Chu Feng: “……”

He forced a smile and tried to coax him like a child. “That was all just a misunderstanding…”

“It wasn’t a misunderstanding! Hic…” Si Qi hiccupped, though his breath had no trace of alcohol. He sniffled. “You shameless bastard, can’t control your lower half. Do you know how—hic—how sad I was?! You don’t know!! Waaah…”

Chu Feng couldn’t help laughing. “I didn’t do that. I only like you.”

“Liar!!” Si Qi was so angry he jumped up from the bed and started hitting Chu Feng. Despite being drunk, he didn’t hold back, and his punches actually made Chu Feng’s chest hurt—no small feat, considering Chu Feng’s steel-like physique. Still, he didn’t dodge and could only carefully hold Si Qi’s hands. “I’m not lying. I really only like you, only love you.”

“You’re lying! You silver-tongued playboy…”

Chu Feng said, “I swear.”

Si Qi stubbornly shook his head, his words slurred, “Swearing doesn’t count. You swear, but it’s useless. Mmm…”

Chu Feng really wanted to know what exactly was wrong with Si Qi. Was he truly drunk? Just as his attention started to wander, Si Qi, who had been staring at him, exploded with rage. “You’re distracted! You’re not taking me seriously! You’re not sincere at all!”

Unable to calm him, Chu Feng gave in. “Okay, okay, I’m serious. I’ll only look at you.”

He looked into Si Qi’s eyes with full attention and didn’t look away again. Si Qi gazed back at him with pure, deep eyes, staring for a long, long time.

At first, Chu Feng was still feeling a bit amused, but being stared at like that gradually calmed him down. His entire world seemed to narrow to only Si Qi—his pouting, his trembling lashes, his eyes brimming with emotion.

The air around them suddenly felt still. Even if there were sounds outside, Chu Feng couldn’t hear them anymore. All he could hear was Si Qi’s and his own breathing, drawing closer and closer together. Without knowing who leaned in first, their lips touched.

They shared a soft, gentle kiss and embraced each other.

Then the embrace grew more and more uncontrollable. Si Qi pushed Chu Feng onto the bed, roughly tearing open his clothes—buttons flying everywhere.

For a brief moment, Chu Feng remembered that Si Qi was using his younger form. He wanted to stop him, but seeing how fierce Si Qi looked, it was clearly not something he could interrupt. So he obediently pretended he hadn’t noticed anything—especially the fact that both “people’s” body shapes were exactly the same.

Drunk Si Qi was even more enthusiastic than last time.

…

…

The consequences of a hangover were extremely troublesome.

Si Qi opened his eyes with a splitting headache. After more than ten hours, his rational mind finally returned. He groaned, curling up under the blanket, cursing himself, “Damn it… does being drunk count as being affected by a forbidden object?!”

Last night, after a few sips of wine, he went back to his room thinking he’d be fine. His body was healthy—surely he’d be immune to the influence of forbidden items, right? But somehow, more and more alcohol seemed to flood his system, as if he were drinking nonstop. His mind grew increasingly hazy.

Si Qi had a habit of regularly checking his mental state to make sure he hadn’t lost control. When he did his routine check before sleeping, he suddenly realized—he was drunk!

If he stayed in that room any longer, he’d die of alcohol poisoning. He rushed out in a panic and went to Chu Feng’s room—just in case he lost control and needed someone to stop him. And then… he completely blacked out. He vaguely remembered going crazy, maybe. He wasn’t sure.

But judging by the blurry fragments of memory—and how his body felt now—Si Qi was certain: he had absolutely gone wild.

Otherwise, how could that “little master” who blushed just from holding hands, have possibly taken the initiative to do that?

Si Qi lifted the blanket and sat up. The cold air stung his bare skin. He looked at the messy bed, didn’t see Chu Feng, then glanced out the window. It was already past noon. He scratched his head in frustration and got out of bed.

His head still throbbed, like a drill boring into his skull, which only worsened his mood. He threw on a robe and walked toward the door, planning to return to his own room to clean up.

But the moment he opened the door—he saw his older brother standing there, clearly having waited a long time. Right beside him stood Chu Feng, also in pajamas, looking incredibly awkward.

Si Qi: “………………”

His brother caught sight of the marks on Si Qi’s neck and collarbone. His already livid face instantly turned terrifying.

Notes

1. A “Shura field”  refers to a chaotic and often dramatic situation, particularly involving complicated interpersonal relationships, often with romantic undertones ↩︎

A world polluted by evil gods (10): “happy”

The rule changes caused by divine power were happening all over the world, and naturally, the Empire was no exception.

In a small town near the Imperial Capital, countless souls of the dead appeared before people overnight. Many residents were so terrified they fell ill, hastily packed their belongings, and fled the town by night. In the blink of an eye, the once-prosperous town became a real ghost town.

Photos of the ghosts were printed in newspapers and quickly spread throughout the Empire. While people were still doubtful, thinking this might be fake news from an unscrupulous press, reports of strange phenomena from all over the world started to appear one after another. Even the most slow-witted people began to feel uneasy.

In the past, ten years ago, Si Qi could have suppressed the news on his own.

But with the rapid development of technology—telephones, telegraphs, steam trains—there were too many ways for information to spread. Si Qi could only watch as the rumors grew more intense and the anxiety spread through society. He ordered the king and parliament to do their best to appease the public and reduce the chance of riots. Beyond that, there was nothing more he could do.

He had more important matters to attend to.

Before setting out, fearing that he might never return, Si Qi made a point to go home. His parents and eldest brother called him into the study and repeatedly told him not to go out casually, and that no matter where he went, he must be accompanied by bodyguards.

His formidable elder brother even found someone who possessed a forbidden object and sent them to Si Qi’s side as a bodyguard—like throwing a sheep to the wolves. It’s worth noting that this brother didn’t have anyone like this by his own side, yet he unhesitatingly gave the best person to Si Qi.

Si Qi, moved once again by his brother’s actions, accepted his good intentions. He had his men take over the unfortunate bodyguard who’d been sent into the lion’s den, and arranged for the family’s guardian knights, who had been with his relatives for years, to take care of them. Then, he led an entire unit and left the Imperial Capital, traveling overnight to the neighboring country.

Several cult organizations like the Omniscient Church, clinging like maggots to the bone, followed after hearing the news. Si Qi didn’t pay them much attention.

Because when he arrived at the capital of the neighboring country and saw the king—wearing a crown, holding a divine staff, looking like a walking calamity—he ordered his men to capture a few Omniscient Church followers and throw them toward the king to test the situation.

These followers, nearly mad with excitement at the sight of a forbidden object, charged forward fearlessly—and began dying one by one within thirty seconds. Their deaths were beyond human comprehension, bizarre and unnatural. Si Qi frowned slightly at the sight.

This time, it might be even more dangerous than containing an S-class divine essence.

Si Qi gathered his subordinates for a discussion, planning how to test the power and rule attributes of the staff step by step, and how to contain it as soon as possible.

Every extra minute they let it run wild meant countless more people would die.

They were now in a race against death. If they won, all would rejoice. If they lost, they would die alongside the ordinary people.

The enforcers, long accustomed to facing life and death, did not hesitate at such a time.

Except for Igor.

More precisely, it wasn’t that Igor was cowardly and wanted to retreat—

But that he simply couldn’t forget the words spoken by the Mirror of Truth.

He spent the whole day in torment, and finally, on the night before the plan was to be carried out, he secretly found Chu Feng.

“I have something to tell you.”

Chu Feng knew Igor’s character. He wouldn’t speak aimlessly at a time like this, so he took the words seriously and said sincerely, “Go ahead.”

Igor said, “You must’ve noticed—our Commander’s strength has been drastically weakened, and his mental state is on the verge of collapse…”

Igor hesitated for a long time but did not reveal the reason why Si Qi had ended up like this. It wouldn’t change the facts and would only hurt Chu Feng.

Even though, for certain reasons, he couldn’t fully accept Chu Feng calmly, he also couldn’t bring himself to irrationally take out his anger on him. He only said, “Maybe you don’t know, or maybe you only vaguely sensed it… The Commander has always been training you as his successor.”

Chu Feng nodded. “I had that feeling.”

Si Qi treated him differently. From the beginning, he had trained him personally, placed high hopes on him, protected him, and entrusted him with many high-level sealed objects.

He could feel Si Qi’s open and sincere attention.

Igor looked at him deeply. “But have you never thought about the reason for grooming a successor? It’s to replace the one currently in power…”

Chu Feng’s expression changed slightly.

Igor lowered his head. “The Commander… he can’t hold on much longer. On the surface, you can’t see it, but he’s nearly at his limit. He told me long ago that he didn’t want to be corrupted and twisted, like the enforcers who lost control—turned into monsters that harm the world against their own will. So he prepared a guillotine for himself long ago, in case he lost control and needed to be killed… That blade is you, Chu Feng.”

Chu Feng’s face turned pale. Igor continued, “The reason he helped you become stronger wasn’t just to pass on his legacy, and staying close to you wasn’t just about protecting you… He was afraid that once he lost control, no one would be able to stop him. What I’m telling you may sound cruel, but please forgive the Commander—he had no choice. He couldn’t just let himself become part of the disaster, letting a lifetime of effort go to waste. Only you have the potential to stop him when the time comes and allow him to bow out with dignity.”

Chu Feng looked visibly upset but didn’t interrupt Igor, who was clearly overwhelmed with emotion. Igor said sadly, “You know, ever since I saw you appear at the Commander’s side, I’ve felt uneasy. Not just because of your relationship with him, but because I realized—he’s made his decision. He no longer intends to restrain himself or struggle to survive. He wants to unleash his full power at the right moment, die at the peak of his glory, and pass both the baton and the gift to you… This unprecedentedly powerful forbidden object is the opponent he’s been waiting for. You understand what I mean, right? Tomorrow, the Commander will…”

Tears streamed down Igor’s face. Gripping Chu Feng’s shoulders in anguish, he said, “Don’t let the Commander go. He’ll die! I can’t stop him, but I also don’t want to watch him leave. I’d rather die myself than see him disappear! Please, Chu Feng. I know I’m pushing the responsibility onto you, but because of your relationship with the Commander, you and he…” Igor said, humiliated and pained, “Aren’t you two… together? If it’s you, if you say it yourself, the Commander will definitely listen!”

Chu Feng stared blankly at Igor, his mind going blank from the continuous blows of one revelation after another.

After a moment, he said somewhat dazedly, “Of course I don’t want the Commander to die… but is this really what he wants?”

Igor looked at him through tearful eyes. Chu Feng continued, “To stop the Commander from containing that forbidden object, to make him watch as the enforcers face danger and die one after another, while he remains in the legion enduring increasingly unbearable corruption until one day I kill him with my own hands… I—I can’t do that. I’d rather face the forbidden object with him, help him fulfill everything he wants to achieve, and let him present that forbidden object to me with satisfaction, even if the cost is his death…”

Chu Feng gently pushed away Igor’s trembling hands that were gripping his shoulders tightly. He said to him, “Igor, in the Commander’s heart, the nation and the world matter more than anything, even more than his own life. What we need to do is not let him end his life full of regrets, but support him without hesitation, help him fulfill his purpose in life without anything holding him back, and move forward toward his ideals… I won’t stop him. I will stand beside him and face all the dangers, walk with him to the very last moment. I think that’s what’s truly best for the Commander.”

“You know nothing! You don’t love the Commander at all!! You—” Igor only got one sentence out before he couldn’t continue. He broke into sobs, squatting on the ground with his face in his hands, crying uncontrollably. “Why did it have to be you saying those things? You make me feel like all my past affection was a joke! I don’t want the Commander to die, I don’t… I don’t!”

That final cry was like a cuckoo weeping blood, filled with the most painful sorrow and helplessness in the world. Igor fell into complete despair, his tears uncontrollable. He wished he could cry his eyes blind, or just die then and there.

“He’s the cruelest person in the world. He didn’t even like me but still treated me so gently. He knew I couldn’t handle the truth, yet he still let me know everything. I wanted to die with him, but he would rather I stay alive and remain in the legion to assist you… How can someone be this cruel…”

Chu Feng crouched down and gently patted Igor’s head. “That’s the Commander’s kindness. He sees you as an important companion. Even though he knew he was forcing you, he still made that choice, because you’re special to him. You’re the one he can rely on and trust to carry it through.”

Igor stayed curled on the ground, clutching his head and crying, trying to shut out reality in the only way he could.

A long while passed before he calmed himself down, afraid that if he let the negative thoughts overwhelm him, the sealed object he carried might seize the opportunity to increase his corruption.

With red eyes, he said to Chu Feng, “I’ll leave the Commander to you tomorrow. If it’s possible… save him. Don’t let him die.”

“I will.”

As he watched Igor leave in a hurry, Chu Feng waited a moment before saying to someone hidden in the shadows, “I thought you would step out just now.”

Si Qi was well-practiced in concealment. Igor had never noticed him from beginning to end. Chu Feng wouldn’t have noticed either, but he had seen the monstrous creature nearby growing larger and occasionally letting out low growls. That’s how he guessed Si Qi had been standing there all along.

“Igor’s just worried about you,” Chu Feng said instinctively in defense of Igor.

He recalled Igor’s earlier words—that his very existence was a blade meant to sever the dragon’s head at the final moment—and felt an indescribable mix of emotions.

He deeply feared that such a moment might actually come to pass. And though it pained him greatly, he didn’t voice that pain to blame Si Qi.

He was willing to respect all of Si Qi’s wishes, even if those wishes alone were enough to break his heart.

Si Qi stepped out of the shadows. “I know Igor is worried about me, but I’m a Legion Commander first, and only afterward someone he knows.”

As the Commander, Si Qi enjoyed the service of hundreds of thousands. Whatever he wanted done, he only had to speak a single word, and countless people would act for him and give their all to fulfill his commands. But this wasn’t because he was born noble or because of the title of Commander—it was because people trusted him. They believed that what he did aligned with their ideals, that he was worth following, even to the death.

Having gained such privilege, Si Qi knew he had to shoulder the responsibilities that came with it. He understood why Igor had lost his composure over this—after all, Igor had been personally saved by him and had joined the legion to repay that kindness, nothing more.

But Si Qi couldn’t comply with Igor’s wishes. In fact, he had shamelessly taken advantage of Igor’s feelings for him and asked him to continue serving the legion even after his death, rather than follow him into the grave.

Si Qi said to Chu Feng, “You made the right decision.”

Chu Feng didn’t respond.

Being praised for something like this didn’t bring him any joy.

Si Qi understood what Chu Feng was thinking. After a pause, he said, “A long time ago, you asked me why I treated you so specially.”

Chu Feng looked up at him.

Si Qi said, “The way I treated you wasn’t solely because I wanted you to kill me at the end. Maybe that’s part of it, but it’s not the whole story.”

His always cold and stern tone softened as he said to Chu Feng, “I’ve spent my entire life fighting against evil gods and containing forbidden objects. But even if I dedicated every day of my life to it, I might never have had the chance to stand before an evil god and protect this world… until I met you.”

“You are the one who can fulfill my dream. You are the person who will complete my life’s work. Because you’re taking over for me, all my efforts won’t have been in vain. Only then can I face death without regret—because I know that even if I leave, you’ll still be here to protect the world.”

More importantly… he had realized that Chu Feng was someone who could understand him.

When he heard Chu Feng say with his own mouth that he would rather face danger with him and walk beside him to the end than stop him from achieving his dream—Si Qi’s heart felt utterly full. It was like meeting a true soulmate, and having no regrets in this life.

He had never been so grateful that Chu Feng existed in this world. He was like redemption itself, a divine presence descending from the heavens, helping him fulfill all his unfinished wishes and make up for every regret.

Si Qi said, “Thank you, Chu Feng.”

Chu Feng quickly lowered his head, not wanting the other to see the redness around his eyes.

In a hoarse voice, he said, “You really are a cruel man.”

Even now, he didn’t reveal his true identity, not wanting Chu Feng to bear the burden of killing his lover. He was asking Chu Feng to be the one to end his life, and yet he acted as though Chu Feng had done him a great favor, thanking him instead.

Even in death, he wanted to clear every emotional obstacle from Chu Feng’s path, sweeping aside anything that might shake him. He was simply too gentle—so gentle it was unbearable.

The more Chu Feng thought about it, the more he realized he couldn’t allow himself to dwell on it, or else he would break down.

…

The time for the final assault was set for noon the next day, when the sun would be at its fiercest. At that time, Si Qi would be able to use a sealed object that would have maximum effect.

Before that, the enforcers had to quickly and continuously test the abilities of the “walking catastrophe,” the forbidden object in the hands of the former emperor, in order to gather as much useful intelligence as possible for Si Qi.

Because of this catastrophe, the entire world was in chaos. The country, being closest to the emperor, was affected the most. The people were plunged into suffering and misery, and the capital’s residents suffered heavy casualties. The few who survived had become grotesque, twisted beings—better off dead than alive.

The longer they delayed, the worse things would get. So even if they wanted more time to test the “walking catastrophe’s” abilities, the enforcers had to stop by noon the next day. They returned to the temporary camp, carrying with them the bodies of comrades who had died in the line of duty during the tests.

Igor took the matter extremely seriously. He personally oversaw the personnel deployments and intelligence gathering. After carefully organizing every detail, he said to Si Qi, “The emperor possesses the ability to alter the laws of the world. The shortest interval between uses of this power is only twelve seconds. Possibly due to lack of control, while the power is immense, its precision isn’t particularly accurate. Here is the specific test data.”

Igor handed two sheets of paper to Si Qi, who looked over them carefully before handing them over to Chu Feng.

Igor said, “Dozens of local containment organizations, the Omniscient Church that followed us here, and the emperor’s own army… these various factions are all mixed together. If conflict breaks out, any one of them could become our enemy.”

Si Qi replied, “You’ll be in charge of that side of things.”

Igor responded earnestly, “Leave the rear guard to me. All you need to focus on is containing the forbidden object.”

He would not allow any bastard to interfere with his Commander—not even the slightest threat from behind would be allowed to reach him.

Si Qi nodded. “What are the specific rules that have been altered so far?”

“There are thirty-seven rules in total, and we’ve already found ways to counter twenty-four of them. They include field mutation…” After giving a detailed explanation, Igor quickly added, “Aside from altering rules, there’s another strange power that constantly repels anyone who tries to approach the emperor. According to the enforcers who barely made it back alive, it seems to involve altering probabilities and manipulating all things…”

Si Qi listened intently, his expression serious. Chu Feng sat nearby, completely focused, not daring to miss a single word.

By 1:30 p.m., the sound of gunfire from skirmishes outside grew increasingly intense. The enforcers had located one of the rival groups, and with a little instigation from several sides, conflict broke out between the factions. Taking advantage of the chaos, Si Qi and his forces moved like a blade drawn from its sheath—piercing straight toward the emperor seated in the royal palace. Before anyone could react, they broke through the army’s encirclement and charged directly in front of the emperor.

At first sight, there wasn’t even time for words. A flash of cold light from Si Qi’s sword slashed down at the emperor, tearing through his elegant robes and leaving a bloody gash on his neck. The shockwave blasted into the grand and luxurious palace behind him, bringing it crashing down with an earth-shaking roar.

Si Qi looked at the emperor hovering mid-air in a strange aura, then at the torn collar around his neck, tightening his grip on the knight’s sword.

The emperor recognized who they were. These men in sleek black uniforms and silver masks, loyal and well-trained, had been operating in his empire for over a decade, collecting the forbidden objects that constantly appeared throughout the nation.

As an emperor, he of course had his own elite cavalry to handle such issues, and even powerful figures wielding forbidden objects under his command.

In terms of numbers and establishment, he—the famed and battle-hardened emperor known across the world—should have had the upper hand. And yet, every time conflict arose between the two sides, it was always his forces that lost in the end.

He had long been interested in the Commander of this knight legion and had made many attempts to infiltrate the group and take control of it, only to end up empty-handed every time.

Now, he had obtained a treasure stronger than any forbidden object—one capable of rewriting the world’s rules and countering all others. With it, world domination was within reach.

He saw himself not as a tyrant or a world-destroying god, but as a ruler protecting his people. He was doing everything in his power to control this treasure for their safety. He saw nothing wrong in possessing such power—and certainly wasn’t about to hand it over willingly.

So when he saw that the Knight Legion’s Commander had come in person to confront him, even as the sovereign of a mighty empire holding ultimate power, he still found the situation difficult and infuriating. He growled, “A peacekeeping organization initiating conflict against another nation? How absurd and laughable!”

“The Legion’s mission is to reclaim all forbidden objects. Whether you’re an emperor or a commoner, it makes no difference,” Si Qi said coldly. “If you still have any sanity left, then you shouldn’t become the cause of this world’s destruction. Hand over the forbidden object.”

“I’m doing this for my people!” the emperor roared. “Only I can protect them and ensure their survival!”

“And what exactly have you protected?” Si Qi sneered, stepping slightly to the side to reveal the scene behind him—a street filled with smoke, corpses, and rotting flesh.

A flicker of confusion flashed in the emperor’s eyes, but it was soon replaced by anger. “If it weren’t for your attempt to steal my treasure, my people would never have suffered this terror!”

Si Qi raised an eyebrow, then understood.

Chu Feng said, “His mind is completely broken.”

He was mistaking the corpses and monsters for his people, seeing a ruined world as if it were still intact. Trapped in an illusion, he had no idea that he himself had already shattered the empire beyond repair.

Perhaps this emperor once thought of wielding divine power to resist the evil god, once thought of protecting his nation and his people. But he lacked the qualifications and could not bear such responsibility. In the end, he was crushed by the power and became one of the world’s calamities—just like Si Qi, who feared he would lose control.

Si Qi said, “No more talking. Kill him now.”

The emperor roared in fury, “Don’t you dare!”

“What I want—no one can stop me.” Si Qi shot him a cold glance, with not a trace of mercy in his eyes.

He no longer regarded the emperor as a living person, but as a forbidden object that had to be destroyed and contained. Regardless of what the emperor thought, the moment he lost control and caused massive disasters to the outside world, he had become a being that deserved to die.

Under the bright midday sun, Si Qi drew a syringe-like sealing object from his waist.

Inside the tube, a golden liquid shimmered and flowed slowly under the force of gravity like the most beautiful jewel in the world. Si Qi pressed it to his neck and injected it in one breath into his veins.

The next second, an incomparably powerful aura erupted. A pale golden light enveloped his body. Under the sunlight, he looked like a sun god—mighty and commanding. Behind him, the monster’s form swelled to more than ten times its size, looming over the entire palace, letting out a deafening roar that shook the heavens and the earth.

Boom—!!

Two figures collided mid-air like meteors crashing to the ground, creating a thunderous explosion.

The deputy commander, who had been leading the troops to assist or prevent ambushes from enemies lurking nearby, turned pale at the sight and exclaimed, “They’re going all out this fast?!” He shouted to the enforcers around him, “Run! Don’t stay here!”

A local enforcer, confused, wiped the sweat pouring down from the heat and asked, “Aren’t we going to help the Commander take down the Emperor?”

“Idiot! Are you trying to die?!” the deputy commander snapped. “At this level of battle, helping is suicide!” It felt like every time the commander fought, his only job as deputy commander was to lead the retreat and clean up afterward.

As he finished speaking, several cult members spying from the shadows screamed in agony as fire engulfed their bodies. They struggled on the ground for a few seconds before their fat and blood combusted, leaving only shriveled black corpses—silent and lifeless.

One enforcer was so terrified his liver and guts trembled. Feeling the temperature rising behind him, he dared not say another word and fled at full speed.

As they fled, waves of terrifying explosions sounded from behind. Several members of enemy factions escaping with them trembled and asked in disbelief, “What kind of monsters are those? Are we supposed to steal something from monsters like that?! What a joke!!”

Just as the words left his mouth, a golden sword light slashed through the air, narrowly grazing his scalp before flying several hundred meters ahead into a group of buildings. Instantly, bricks and stones exploded, shooting into the sky and blasting in all directions—smashing this fleeing group dead-on.

Cough… cough!

He fell heavily to the ground, hit by a barrage of stones. Clutching his head, he crawled out from under the rubble, face covered in dust, dirt, and blood. When he opened his eyes, he saw what should have been a bustling street reduced to a deep cratered ruin, leaving him completely stunned.

Was this… was this really power a human could possess?

Trembling, he turned to look at the sky in the distance. The three figures clashing at high speed inspired only fear—no one dared covet anything anymore. A single thought popped into his mind: If more people like this existed in the world, could the great evil god really descend?

The next second, his vision spun. In the ever-darkening scene, his headless corpse was casually pushed aside by a black-clad man wielding a knife. The man told his comrades beside him, “Kill every last one of these cult scum!”

Thud. His head, eyes wide open in death, rolled to the ground, becoming just another unremarkable corpse among the many.

Up in the sky, Si Qi’s arm was suddenly gripped and twisted by a force that came without warning. His bones, harder than steel, cracked and shattered instantly, breaking his arm into several pieces.

Chu Feng shouted, “Commander!”

“Watch out for sudden spatial distortions,” Si Qi said, expressionless, as he yanked back his arm. The “Blood of God” he had injected rapidly healed his injuries. The broken bones fused swiftly, and the next second, he charged out again. “Focus on the fight!”

Chu Feng’s face tensed as he followed Si Qi in pursuit of the Emperor.

But the next moment, Si Qi stumbled and was nearly tripped by a flying rock, nearly crashing into a sharp metal blade jutting from the ground.

Chu Feng froze in panic.

Si Qi flipped his body, narrowly avoiding the death strike aimed at his throat, his expression grim.

At that moment, he sensed killing intent seeping in from all directions, as if the entire world harbored immense malice toward him. From the stones at his feet, the drifting leaves in mid-air, to stray bullets flying from afar, and even the very air constantly entering his lungs—everything seemed intent on killing him.

In that split second, he suddenly recalled the intel Igor had once shared with him.

“There’s a strange and unique power that targets anyone who gets close to the Emperor. According to the enforcers who barely escaped, it seems to modify probabilities and manipulate all things…”

In battle, Si Qi tripping on a stone; a sharp blade conveniently appearing exactly where he fell; even someone like him, who is instinctively sensitive to killing intent, now feeling fatal threats from all directions—this all clearly matched Igor’s description.

Si Qi glanced at Chu Feng. Seeing Chu Feng moving normally, seemingly unaffected, he frowned.

Hiding within Si Qi’s consciousness, the noodle-like creature Xiu Xiu—visibly uneasy ever since hearing Igor’s warning yesterday—finally couldn’t help speaking:

[Master, the world is rejecting you!]

Si Qi was annoyed that this evil-god-corrupted thing chose now to distract him, but a deep instinct from his soul still made him subconsciously listen.

[You’ve experienced this before during your previous missions! No matter what you did, you were always targeted! Danger that should’ve been extremely unlikely always happened to you! But the Lord God is immune to this because he’s the child of the world!]

Xiu Xiu urgently added, [Master, please don’t act recklessly now! I don’t have much world power left in me, and I can’t guarantee I can take you to another world if you die! You absolutely must survive!!]

Si Qi didn’t comment. Even if that noodle-like thing hadn’t said anything, he had already decided—until he obtained divine power, he would never allow himself to die so easily.

Xiu Xiu spun nervously in his consciousness space, wanting to help but unsure what to do.

He watched helplessly as Si Qi was rejected by the world, continuously harmed yet refusing to give up. There was almost no part of his body left uninjured.

Tears of sorrow fell one by one from Xiu Xiu’s single eye, landing on the World Tree leaf that was the only thing his master had left him. Instinctively, he tried to wipe away the droplets with his paw, not wanting to soil what now felt like his only source of comfort.

As he wiped, Xiu Xiu’s gaze focused on the leaf. His internal database habitually surfaced countless memories involving his master and the World Tree leaves. Then…

His pitiful expression suddenly froze.

Those rejected and hated by the heavenly laws are struck by lightning.

Although Si Qi had not committed any great atrocities, his soul was so dark and terrifying—its hue even murkier than that of cultists—that once targeted by an emperor wielding divine power, he would inevitably become the first person the world’s laws tried to obliterate.

Golden pillars descended from the sky. Lightning as thick as water tanks crashed down like intelligent serpents, locking onto Si Qi midair, biting into him with unrelenting ferocity. The ground beneath cracked open like an irregular spiderweb.

Fearing that any further delay would be the end of him, the blood-soaked Chu Feng charged at the emperor, who was surrounded by an aura of immense might. The two humans bearing fallen divine power clashed above the ruined palace in a battle so apocalyptic it felt like the end of the world.

“Move!” Si Qi shouted from within the lightning and charged straight at the emperor.

There was no way he could bear the lightning’s might alone. If the heavens wanted him dead, he’d like to see how many strikes this so-called emperor—who had power but no divine essence to anchor it—could withstand!

Boom—!!

Si Qi grabbed the emperor and dragged him together into the pillar of lightning that lit up the sky like daylight. The blinding flash made it impossible to see anything clearly. Even the swirling debris below turned a ghostly white.

Boom—

Si Qi slashed the emperor out of the air and smashed him violently into the ground. His blood-red eyes radiated with the might of the sun god, lightning crackling around him. Chunks of charred flesh fell from his body like burnt coal, quickly regenerating anew. He looked like an unstoppable god of war, raising his greatsword for another heavy strike.

Boom—!!

All the factions hiding throughout the city were paralyzed with fear, trembling as they stared up at the scene. No one could remain calm under such divine wrath. Thunderous roars filled the air, as though the world itself were bellowing in fury, its emotions so intense it seemed ready to annihilate all creation.

Boom—!!

Si Qi’s entire body was in pain. The agony tore through his nerves, driving him to the brink of madness and robbing him of reason. His eyes were red enough to bleed, filled with bloodshot fury as he glared at the man before him. The tip of his sword drove deep into the emperor’s heart, as if piercing through the world’s hardest wall.

“Ahhhh!!” Si Qi roared, gripping his greatsword tighter as the murderous aura around him grew stronger and stronger.

Boom—!!

Lightning struck him again. His bones cracked, his muscles tore open, yet the exposed bones of his hand still clung tightly to the hilt. Si Qi clenched his teeth and drove the sword down with all his strength.

“—Die!!”

The snow-white blade pierced cleanly through the emperor’s flesh and burst out his back. Fresh blood coated the sword. Si Qi’s eyes were savage, and as the emperor howled in rage, he twisted the blade violently.

A head-sized hole appeared in the emperor’s body. The emperor grabbed Si Qi tightly, pulling him down toward the ground and coughing up a mouthful of blood. He shouted in fury, “You’re coming with me!!”

Chu Feng watched as the massive black beast, which could block out the sky, and the vaguely humanoid white figure fell together into the earth. He rushed forward, trying to shield Si Qi from the deathblow.

“Get out of the way!”

Si Qi understood Chu Feng’s intent. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth, but he felt nothing. One hand plunged into the emperor’s mangled chest and retrieved a flawless white crystal, which he threw back toward Chu Feng. “Go!”

The next moment, the emperor’s body began to surge and ripple wildly, as if an unstable energy core were collapsing and expanding simultaneously. Then it exploded, unleashing a wave of power powerful enough to destroy the world, engulfing Si Qi in an instant.

In just a blink, a massive crater thousands of meters wide appeared in the center of the city. The shockwave sent Chu Feng hurtling hundreds of meters through the air before he barely managed to stabilize himself. His face pale, he stared down at the aftermath, clenched the crystal tightly, and flew downward without hesitation.

“Commander!!!”

At the bottom of the crater, an invisible barrier had wrapped around Si Qi just before the explosion hit. Now, nearly unrecognizable from his injuries, he fell rapidly.

A massive mechanical arm appeared out of thin air and gently caught him in its palm. Then it quickly vanished again, becoming transparent.

Phew. Good thing he made it in time. Xiu Xiu wiped the cold sweat from his brow and let out a long sigh of relief.