Renewal

"No good." The old man sighed. "Even when you're dying, you can't die peacefully. You're such a pain."

"I don't want to die either. Wouldn't everything be fine if you just let me go?" Huai Shi's breathing grew ragged.

"See? It's all broken, all broken!" The old man wiped away his sweat with his wrist and tossed the thing into the trash can. "It's all gone. Why are you such a pain in the ass?"

"Bi Gan could live for half an hour without a heart. Half an hour would be fine too."

"Shut up!"

"At noon, a traitor friend treated me to hotpot..."

Huai Shi had even lost the ability to breathe, yet unbelievably, he could still make a sound. Perhaps the fear of death had shattered the shell of his pretense. He had never felt so lonely or sorrowful. He did not want to die, and he wanted someone to talk to, so he rambled on incessantly:

"Have you ever had hotpot? You look like a foreigner. Hotpot is a Chinese specialty, you know. Let me tell you, Old Yang may be stingy and troublesome, but his hotpot is seriously amazing..."

"..."

The old man fell silent.

Naked he came, naked he went. He had stripped off the clothes of his stinking flesh, yet this bastard still hadn't fucking died?! And for some reason, he kept spewing trash talk!!!

"Why won't you just hurry up and die when things have gotten this bad?!"

"How the fuck should I know, you asshole, you lunatic, you old pervert..."

A monotonous, hoarse voice came from within the skeleton. "Hey, could you save me? I'll sell myself to you. As long as you don't make me go gay, I'll do whatever you say... Wait, going gay is fine too..."

The old man's white hair stood on end with rage, exposing the seams stitched across his face. He slammed the table in near frenzy. "Death is destined!"

"Even if it's destined, I still don't want to..."

Huai Shi hesitated, then tried to negotiate with him. "Can't I wait until I've lived enough before I die?"

"..."

The old man fell silent, clawing at his hair and letting out an irritated roar. It was as if his fighting spirit had been utterly crushed. He bent down and slowly put away his knives, awls, and scissors, sorting them back into the toolbox. He untied his apron, took out a comb, and carefully tidied his disheveled hair.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!!!!"

He suddenly roared, furiously throwing the toolbox to the floor and stomping on it again and again. He grabbed an axe from the corner and smashed the cabinet there to pieces, venting the nameless rage in his heart.

"Fuck, what the hell is this?!"

He roared at the ceiling, as though glaring at something. "See that? He won! Get your experiment out of here! Right now! I never want to see him again!"

At that instant, time seemed to stop. Everything froze in place.

Somewhere within the void, a door seemed to open. A beam of light fell from within, descending like a rope and pulling him slowly upward.

Huai Shi looked around blankly, not knowing what had happened.

Nor did he know whether he should follow the convention left behind by his predecessors and turn around to give them the finger.

The next instant, he was swallowed by the light.

Or rather, drowned. A sea-like silver-gray radiance drowned him. An invisible force dragged him upward, as though he were traveling through the deep sea, feeling the terrifying weight pressing in from every direction. But what frightened him even more was that every drop of water in this silver sea of light was Source Matter so dense it had nearly condensed into liquid.

As far as the eye could see, it was almost endless. Human sight and perception could not possibly glimpse its end, as though it encompassed the entire world.

The Silver Sea.

The void ocean that gathered all human Source Matter and the origin of all wisdom, a great existence above even miracles... Crow's description surfaced in his mind once more.

In that instant, he burst from the sea and was flung into the air.

He floated blankly between the sea and sky of the void, looking at the pure, immaculate black firmament above and the silver ocean beneath him, surging with endless streams of light.

Far away, he seemed to see two vague figures sitting atop the sea.

"Say, after my daughter saw your photo last time, she cried and made a huge fuss, saying she wanted a Crow like big sister's too... What could I do? I was in a hurry to leave back then, so I could only grab a pigeon and give it to her. Then she asked why its color was different, so I could only tell her: It was black too, but when its mother gave birth to it, she ran out of ink... Sigh, it's been seven years since I last saw her. I wonder how she's doing, how her studies are going."

The bearded middle-aged man sat cross-legged on the sea, smoking with a can of beer in hand as he helplessly complained to the drinking companion beside him.

Casually, he flicked the ash into the miraculous ocean beneath his feet.

"Don't worry, don't worry. I just saw her before I came here. She's grown up a lot, already a graceful young lady."

Crow held a cigarette and a matching can of beer in her wings, then patted the middle-aged man on the shoulder. "Though that pigeon you gave her seems to have caused a little problem... Ah, my contractor is out."

The bearded man raised his brows and glanced over. "He looks pretty ordinary. What's so special about him?"

"Does being good at the cello count? The kind that can earn bonus points on the college entrance exam."

"That impressive? Any tricks to it?" The bearded man's eyes lit up.

"Well, that's probably talent? Other people can't learn it."

Crow flapped her wings, raised her head to finish the last of the beer in her can, then got up to say goodbye. "It's getting late, so I'll be going... But speaking of which, as a guardian of the Silver Sea and one of the world's only seven natural enemies, is it really okay for you to let a fugitive like me swagger away?"

The bearded middle-aged man thought for a moment, scratched his face in distress, and sighed. "Forget it. I get off work in two days. I've been slacking here for seven years, so can't you let me take it easy for a little longer?"

"Then thank you very much."

Crow smiled gratefully, spread her wings, and flew into the distance.

Her nimble silhouette reflected upon the silver-glowing sea, gradually stretching out, dancing and changing like fire until, at last, it became a slender figure.

The black hem of her dress rippled like water, trailing across the ground without a speck of dust. Its simple edges were embroidered with exquisite dark-gold patterns, extending upward along the dress like thorns.

As Huai Shi stared upward in a daze, all he could see were the long, dazzlingly pale legs revealed beneath the hem.

The back of the dress was cut open, revealing smooth skin and magnificent patterns that covered almost her entire back.

Countless crimson hues intertwined to form a strange yet solemn design, seemingly changing every moment, impossible to make out clearly.

Soon, the strange tattoo was concealed by her cascading black hair.

Just as Huai Shi stood dumbfounded, she raised her head and revealed a mature, delicate profile.

"Come, my contractor."

Holding a familiar-looking box, she crooked a finger at the boy and smiled smugly.

"I'll take you home."

At that instant, a terrifying fluctuation of Source Matter erupted from Huai Shi's bedroom in the outskirts of Xin Hai City!

Burning light flared.

—Book of Destiny!

As if lifted by an invisible force, countless pages flipped madly. An enormous amount of Source Matter surged forth from within, transforming into burning radiance.

It was the Source Matter it had continuously extracted from Huai Shi over the long years. Now, in the blink of an eye, it burned away completely, giving rise to endless illusions of light and change.

Page after page burned into nothingness within the flames, until only the title page bearing his name remained...

Upon the title page, that incomplete moon began to grow once more.

The final missing piece... closed!

After reading countless deaths, and then gathering his own final death as well, the endless records of death transformed into pure ink-blackness. They surged within the moon's phantom, circling the center and spinning violently into a vortex.

Countless deaths collided madly.

At last, they broke through the moon's limitations and tore apart its restraints, revealing their own solemn outline—countless black deaths spun into a massive vortex, supporting a violent perfect circle. Sharp flames jutted out from it, forming its crown.

It was a ferocious Pitch-black Sun Wheel!

Beep!

As though it were an illusion, a faint ripple appeared on the heart monitor in the emergency room.

Life resumed.