Resuming the Connection

"This is bad," the old man sighed. "Even in death, you're so restless. You're quite annoying."

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

"See? It's all broken, all broken!" The old man wiped sweat from his wrist and tossed the item into the trash can. "It's all gone. Why are you still so bothersome?"

"I can still live for half an hour even without a heart. Half an hour is fine too."

"Stop rambling!"

"At noon, a friend, a real piece of work, treated me to hot pot..."

Huai Shi was losing his ability to even gasp, yet incredibly, he could still speak. Perhaps the fear of death had shattered the shell of his composure. He had never felt so lonely and sad. He didn't want to die, but he also wanted someone to talk to, so he babbled on:

"Have you ever had hot pot? You look like a foreigner. Hot pot is a Chinese specialty. Let me tell you, Old Yang can be a real pain and trouble, but his hot pot is absolutely amazing..."

"..."

The old man fell silent.

Naked he came, naked he went. He had shed the clothes of his mortal coil, but this guy still wasn't fucking dead?! And for some reason, he was spewing trash talk nonstop!!!

"Even at this point, why won't you just die already?!"

"Who the hell knows, you bastard, you psycho, you perverted old man..."

A monotonous, hoarse voice emanated from the skeleton. "Say, can you save me? I'll sell myself to you. As long as you're not into guys, I'll do whatever you say... Wait, actually, being into guys is fine too..."

The old man's white hair stood on end in anger, revealing the stitched scars on his face. He slammed the table with almost frenzied force. "Death is inevitable!"

"Even if it's inevitable, I don't want it..."

Huai Shi hesitated, then tried to negotiate. "Can I die after I've lived enough?"

"..."

The old man fell silent, scratching his hair in frustration and letting out an exasperated roar. It was as if his fighting spirit had been completely crushed. He bent down, slowly and deliberately putting away his knives, files, and scissors, sorting them back into the toolbox. He untied his apron, took out a comb, and meticulously tidied his messy hair.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!!!!"

He suddenly roared, furiously throwing the toolbox to the ground and stomping on it repeatedly. He grabbed the axe from the corner and smashed the cabinet in the corner into pieces, venting his nameless rage.

"Damn it, what the hell is this?!"

He roared at the ceiling, as if glaring at something. "See? He won! Take your experiment away from here! Immediately! I never want to see him again!"

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

As if a door had opened in the void, a beam of light shone down, descending like a rope, pulling him slowly upwards.

Huai Shi looked around blankly, not understanding what was happening.

He also wondered if, according to the traditions left by his predecessors, he should turn back and give a middle finger.

The next moment, he was engulfed by the light.

Or rather, "drowned" by a sea-like, silvery-grey light. He was pulled by an unseen force, upwards, as if traveling through the deep sea, feeling the terrifying pressure from all sides. But what terrified him even more was that in this silver sea of light, every drop of water was origin essence, so concentrated it had almost condensed into liquid.

As far as the eye could see, it was nearly endless, its depths beyond the reach of human sight and perception, as if it encompassed the entire world.

The Silver Sea.

The void ocean that gathered all human origin essence, the source of all wisdom, a great existence that transcended miracles... Crow's description from before reappeared in his consciousness.

In that instant, he broke through the sea and was thrown into the air.

He floated blankly between the void sky and sea, gazing at the pure, unadulterated darkness of the sky and the silver ocean surging with endless streams of light beneath his feet.

In the distance, he seemed to see two indistinct figures sitting on the surface of the sea.

"Speaking of which, after I showed my daughter your photo last time, she cried and pestered me, saying she wanted a crow like Big Sister too... I couldn't help it. I was in a hurry to leave then, so I just grabbed a pigeon for her. Then she asked me why the color was different, and I could only tell her: it was black originally, 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, sitting cross-legged on the sea surface, smoked a cigarette and held a can of beer, complaining helplessly to his 'drinking buddy' beside him.

Casually, he flicked the ash into the miraculous ocean below.

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

Crow's wings circled a cigarette and a matching beer, and he patted the middle-aged man's shoulder. "Although the pigeon you gave her seems to have caused a little trouble... Ah, my contractor is coming out."

The bearded man raised his eyebrows and glanced over. "He looks quite ordinary. Is there anything special about him?"

"He plays the cello well, does that count? The kind that can get extra points on the college entrance exam."

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

"Ah, that's probably talent. Others can't learn it."

Crow flapped his wings, tilted his head back, and finished the last of the beer in his can. He got up to say goodbye. "It's getting late, I'll be going ahead... But speaking of which, as a guardian of the Silver Sea, one of the seven Natural Enemies in the world, is it really okay to let me, a fugitive, walk away so brazenly?"

The middle-aged man with a beard thought for a moment, scratched his face with a troubled expression, and sighed. "Forget it. I only have two more days until I finish my shift. I've been slacking off here for seven years, can't you let me have one last easy moment?"

"Then thank you very much."

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

His agile shadow reflected on the shimmering sea surface, gradually elongating, dancing and transforming like flames, until finally, it turned into a slender figure.

Her black skirt rippled like water, spreading across the ground, unstained by dust. The simple style was edged with dark gold embroidery of exquisite patterns, extending upwards along the hem of the long skirt like thorns.

As Huai Shi dazedly looked up, all he saw was the slender calf revealed by the hem of her skirt, so fair it was blinding.

The back of the long dress was a cutout, revealing a smooth back and ornate patterns that covered almost the entire area.

Countless crimson colors intertwined, forming a bizarre yet solemn pattern that seemed to shift constantly, making it impossible to get a clear look.

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

As Huai Shi stared dumbfounded, she raised her head, revealing a mature and exquisite profile.

"Let's go, my contractor."

Holding a familiar-looking box, she beckoned to the young man with a triumphant smile:

"I'll take you home."

In that instant, in Huai Shi's bedroom on the outskirts of Xin Hai City, a terrifying surge of origin essence erupted!

Burning light flared.

—The Book of Destiny!

As if lifted by an unseen force, countless pages flipped wildly, and a massive amount of origin essence poured out, transforming into burning flames.

This was the origin essence the book had continuously drawn from Huai Shi over a long period. Now, in an instant, it was consumed, evolving into endless illusory lights and transformations.

Page after page burned to nothingness in the fire, until finally, only the title page bearing his name remained…

On the title page, the incomplete crescent moon began to grow again.

The last empty space… closed!

After reading countless deaths, and with the final death of herself assembled, the endless records of death transformed into pure ink, surging within the phantom image of the moon, swirling around the center to form a violently rotating vortex.

Innumerable deaths collided madly.

Finally, breaking the moon's limitations, tearing through the restraints, it revealed its solemn outline—countless black deaths spun, forming a vast vortex that supported a wild, perfect circle, sharp flames protruding from within, forming its crown.

It was a ferocious, pitch-black sun!

Beep!

As if an illusion, the heart monitor in the emergency room showed a faint ripple.

Life renewed.