Zhao Bai did not quite dare to step forward.
The girl in the cultivation chamber came into view as well. The two looked exactly alike—not twins, but more like dolls produced on the same assembly line.
This was Gray Serpent's organic form.
Cup Snake was Gray Serpent. Zhao Bai had anticipated it long ago.
But seeing it presented this way still made him a little sad.
The phone sat on the table. Zhao Bai picked it up and swiped upward, smoothly entering the home screen.
It did not even need a password?
That did not quite fit Gray Serpent's personality as he understood it.
For a girl, her phone interface was excessively bare. Aside from the system's built-in apps, there was only a forum for uploading documents. Even the writing software she used was merely the system's default notes app.
Zhao Bai had a feeling. Uneasily, he opened it and carefully read the document last edited twelve minutes ago.
It was a suicide note.
First, I must explain that my name is Cup Snake, a genuine thirteen-year-old genius writer, not an ignorant lump of flesh hidden inside a cultivation chamber. What gives meaning has never been the body, but the human spirit. Therefore, I hereby declare that the following words are spoken by me, Cup Snake, as a human being.
Zhao Bai sighed and continued reading.
I am not afraid. On the contrary, I am somewhat excited. Someone who has always pursued mysteries discovers before death that she herself is part of a mystery. I suppose that counts as dying with no regrets.
But not being afraid is one thing; being angry is another. This means I can never record anything again. Of all the mysteries in this world, I have only seen petty gang conflicts and genetically mutated humans.