White Emperor Child

In that instant, a furious wind howled past.

A hand, suspended high in the sky, slowly lifted, aiming directly at the brightly lit Xin Hai City in the distance, its five fingers slowly clenching.

As if grasping something unseen.

It pulled with all its might!

A sharp shriek erupted from the void, like the overlapping sound of countless pieces of glass being scraped, a maddeningly loud noise spreading.

Heaven and earth shook.

As if pulling out the wedges that fixed the firmament and the solid earth.

In that very moment, a white shadow fell beneath a lamppost in the suburbs of Xin Hai.

"Finally, I made it!"

The white dove slowly folded its wings and landed on the girl's slender arm.

As if she had just finished a marathon, she was drenched in sweat. Her tight-fitting sports T-shirt and night-running pants were soaked, clinging damply to her beautiful body.

Unfortunately, no one was fortunate enough to witness it.

She panted, looking at the hand suspended in the air dozens of kilometers away, shaking her head in helplessness.

Under the lamplight, her shadow seemed to come alive. It slowly raised its hands, as if drawing an unseen weapon, two of them.

And slashed forward.

Silence then descended.

For a moment, the distant roar, the chirping of insects, the falling dust, the flowing wind, the rushing river, the rising fire, and the solid earth all stopped.

As if frozen by an invisible force.

The next instant, a trace, so faint it was difficult to discern, extended from beneath her feet, stretching straight forward, covering twenty-three kilometers and four hundred and eleven meters.

Destruction arrived, precise to the millimeter.

Cleanly and decisively, the hand split down the middle, falling to either side, and then was cut in half again, turning into four pieces.

Four pieces that did not scatter, then collapsed into eight.

One, two, four, eight, sixteen, thirty-two, sixty-four, one hundred and twenty-eight, two hundred and fifty-six... The cruel and precise geometric progression continued to the very end of human observation.

Finally, the shattered origin essence exploded with a roar.

It turned into a fire that burned everything.

Everything came to a halt here, before this sword strike that could not even be described by an action.

It was over.

"I hope there won't be too many victims."

She sighed sadly, then heard the phone in her pocket ring.

"Hello? I'm almost there! I got lost just now, really lost... Your airdrop is definitely faulty! I'm coming, five minutes, I'll be there in five minutes... Oh, I'm on my way..."

The dove and the girl vanished.

"Heaven and Earth Great Power - Divine Freedom..."

The moment the Beast of Wind Calamity's palm shattered, the Red Gloves' face turned ashen, and he gritted out through his teeth:

"—[White Emperor Child]!"

Crack!

A shattering sound suddenly appeared on his face.

The cracks spread, and in an instant, as if chopped by countless knives, his entire upper body turned into a bloody mess. The invisible swords and blades continued to tear at his flesh, until the pendant around his neck let out a mournful cry—the blank-faced little doll shattered into dust.

The blank doll had taken the residual aftershock of the White Emperor Child's sword strike for him.

But even the last trace of 'radiation' that leaked out caused him immense suffering.

Even the soul manifestation in his hand—the sneering fish tank—showed a tragic crack, and one of the two fry inside had its belly up.

The other was also swaying, half-dead, clearly not having much longer to live.

"Damn it, those monsters..."

The Red Gloves bent over abruptly, spitting out a mouthful of blood. He heard heavy footsteps approaching in the distance—the army had begun to move—a fierce glint flashed in his eyes. He pulled out an detonator from his pocket and slammed it down.

The plastic explosives placed around the church lit up their final countdown. This way, the last traces would be completely cleared in fifteen seconds.

It didn't matter if it failed, as long as the Cauldron of Rebirth was still there...

He turned and reached for the pulpit, but his hand and his sinister smile froze—the pulpit was empty!

Gone!

The Cauldron of Rebirth was gone!

The box had disappeared without a trace at some point!

He furiously lifted the pulpit, but found nothing. He let out a few hoarse roars, and amidst the approaching footsteps, he madly dismantled the entire pulpit, still finding nothing.

When the shattered doors of the church were violently smashed open and the suppression forces stormed in, they saw a man with bloodshot eyes, like a rabid dog, standing on a platform.

He spat, then contemptuously raised his middle finger to the soldiers. "Eat shit, you Astronomical Society zombies!"

He threw a playing card.

The card folded in mid-air, pulling his body along with it. Then, he folded again with the card, and again. In an instant, he became an insignificant speck, sucked into a deep hole and disappearing.

The next moment, destructive flames engulfed everything.

The feeling of excessive blood loss wasn't painful.

He couldn't even feel pain anymore.

Just tired, completely drained of strength, listless, as if nothing mattered anymore... He wanted to sleep, wanted to rest, wanted this damned life to end.

Closing his eyes, he felt at peace accepting the reward after a long torment—a peaceful, undisturbed slumber.

Death was coming.

After witnessing so much death, so many different kinds of death, Huai Shi realized he had finally met his own end.

It wasn't terrifying, nor painful, and he felt no reluctance.

Just weariness and confusion.

In a daze, he felt someone pushing his body, struggling to hold him up with a stick, pushing him forward, bit by bit, like a snail pushing a rock.

He was flipped over, landing on a tattered carpet, and was being dragged somewhere.

He smelled burning, heard shattering sounds, and hoarse groans, as if the whole world was being destroyed.

Water droplets fell on Huai Shi's face.

It smelled of blood.

He struggled to open his eyes and saw Liu Dongli beside him, his fate unknown, and in front of him, an old man crawling, dragging the carpet.

The figure, who had lost a leg, pushed forward with all his might, shoving open a door, and turned back.

His face looked as if it had shattered. Half of it was unchanged, as pale as a corpse, while the other half spasmed violently, along with half of his body.

It was as if half of him had died, and the remaining half was struggling desperately, with no hope of recovery.

Seeing Huai Shi's dazed eyes, he avoided his gaze, just struggling to roll up the carpet, wrapping him and Liu Dongli together, and pushing forward with difficulty.

"I'm sorry... I have to save her... Huai Shi, only I can save her... I'm sorry..."

He mumbled hoarsely, as if apologizing but not expecting a response, just talking to himself: "I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."

A phone began to ring, a cheap mobile phone blaring a love song with great fanfare, shouting "husband, husband," but no one answered.

"I'm sorry..."

Blood fell on Huai Shi's face, carrying the warmth of tears.

He was pushed, propelled through the darkness behind the door, rolling down a long flight of stairs into a cellar filled with junk and pickle jars.

Amidst the violent rolling and falling, Huai Shi saw Old Yang's face one last time.

Leaning against the doorframe, he looked at the young man, his convulsing lips pulling into a pathetic angle, as if smiling. He held the still vibrating phone in his hand and waved at him.

It was like a farewell.

Huai Shi opened his mouth, wanting to call out to him, but no sound came out.

The door was closed.

In the darkness, the roar of explosions echoed from afar, and terrifying flames and heat swept through the entire church, turning everything that remained into ashes.

Huai Shi closed his eyes.

Death embraced him.

"Someone, asked me, to deliver a message, to everyone..."

The stiff, rigid man was trapped in a chair, twitching neurotically, the goldfish in his eyes swimming lifelessly.

"He said... he said... he said..."

His expression suddenly turned manic, revealing a ferocious smile.

"—Green Day will eventually illuminate the world."

Bang!

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Amidst the sudden gunshots, his head exploded, but the gunfire didn't stop. After emptying one magazine, he reloaded a new one and continued to pull the trigger.

Until the thing on the chair became a bloody mess.

A broken goldfish leaped out of the empty skull, splattered into a foul paste by the bullets, quickly dehydrating into a clump of powder.

"Did you catch him?"

Ai Qing expressionlessly dropped the gun in her hand. Seeing the middle-aged man's expression, she no longer hid her displeasure. "No need to say it, he escaped, right? We held on for so long, only to get caught in the cleanup?"

"He was carrying a border relic that allows for short-range teleportation. We've already sealed off the area around Xin Hai..."

"What about the survivors?"

Ai Qing had no interest in listening to him continue.

"...We're still looking."

"Then keep looking."

Ai Qing withdrew her gaze. "Dig three feet down if you have to, until you find the bodies."

No one objected.

When midnight arrived, news came from the roaring, collapsing church ruins amidst the excavation: "Liu Dongli and Huai Shi have been found!"

Outside the ruins, Ai Qing remained seated in her wheelchair, her expression calm. "What's their condition?"

"Liu Dongli is alive, severely injured. As for Huai Shi..."

The person reporting paused, their expression hesitant.

"We're trying to save him."

The temporary rescue room was in chaos. Ai Qing waited quietly outside the door, listening to the noisy, confused sounds from within.

"Breathing? Is there any?"

"None. Pulse is almost gone too. Hurry and inject..."

"No, his heartbeat is erratic, it's almost gone... Where's the defibrillator? Give me the defibrillator!"

"One, two, three!"

Bang!

"One, two, three!"

Bang!

After a long time, there were no more sounds from inside. The doctor who had been performing the rescue walked out, removed his mask, and looked regretful. "I'm sorry, we were a step too late..."

Ai Qing nodded, remaining silent, letting them walk past her.

Soon, Ai Qing finally saw Huai Shi.

As if in a deep sleep, the young man lay on the operating table, the bullet wound on his chest pale, no longer even bleeding.

His vacant eyes stared at the surgical lamp above.

His final heartbeat had stopped.

Ai Qing fell silent, lowered her eyes, her hands gripping the armrests until her knuckles turned white. After a long moment, she said calmly, "Then... then let's just follow procedure."

She turned her wheelchair, intending to leave.

But then, the rotation of the wheelchair abruptly stopped.

She seemed to have heard something.

Severe cold...