Divinity Deduction

So-called "people" were always something indescribable and unpredictable.

Sometimes, people instinctively grew weary of the reality that belonged to them, tired of the very act of "existing," seeking to break free from all things tangible, or to let their spirits roam unbound.

Yet at other times, people despised that hollow void, hoping for some solid sense of "being alive" in their lives and bodies, striving desperately to grasp the present rather than some so-called eternity.

Always changing, yet longing to remain unchanged; filled with countless contradictions, yet wishing to live simply...

People were contradictory things.

Because the essence of human nature was precisely so complex and illusory.

...But "Divinity" was not.

At this point, even Li Yun found it difficult to describe what kind of feeling this was.

Perhaps it was like a blind fish that, at some sudden moment, leaped out of the sea and saw the sight beyond the vast ocean...

That endless "void," so immense that even the sea itself was but a speck of dust contained within it.

Nothing was born, and nothing perished.

A faint sliver of will called "Li Yun" stood within it—supremely vast, supremely minute; supremely bright, supremely dark. Other than himself, there was nothing else to rely on.

Naturally, within this emptiness where nothing existed and even time left no trace, all the visitor could see was the "self," symbolizing the sole thing that existed.

It was a trace reflected beyond the sea's surface, facing from afar the "fish" that had briefly leaped beyond its path.

No one stood before him, yet it felt as though heaven and earth were full.

But "someone" was there.

As though it had sensed that gaze, in the next instant, a blurry figure emerged from the void—or perhaps it had been there from the beginning and had only now been noticed.

A face identical to Li Yun's appeared before him, along with the same body, clothes, and mannerisms. Like looking into a mirror, every detail corresponded, with almost no difference to be found.

Yet on that seemingly identical face, not a trace of emotion lingered, nor was there any sign of intent. At a glance, it was like staring into an unfathomably deep, still, cold pool—reflecting all things, yet containing nothing.

"Withdraw!"

It was an extraordinarily brief moment of eye contact.

There had not even been the slightest hesitation. This was the only resolute thought that the will called "Li Yun" had time to form!

It was not merely because of the "uncanny valley effect" caused by that similar being. More accurately, he had immediately noticed the eyes beneath that figure's appearance.

Those eyes, which made one's soul fall silent and were absolutely beyond anything mortal!

Within them, stardust seemed to arise and perish, universes to unfold and collapse. But when one looked closely, there was nothing there at all...

"Hah..."

A long exhalation.

Without saying a word, the first thing Li Yun did after waking was silently rise, walk to the window, and yank open the curtains that had long been drawn shut.

As the afternoon sunlight slanted over him, he narrowed his eyes, his lashes trembling slightly in the harsh light.

Soon, apparently still dissatisfied, the tenant casually threw open the glass panes of the old-fashioned push window beside him as well, allowing hot air carrying the mixed scents of flowers, cooking fumes, vehicle exhaust, and all manner of other odors to pour freely into the somewhat dim little room.

Only then, breathing in that real air with great gulps, air that carried a hint of scorching heat, did he seem to truly awaken from the dream.

The faint chill lingering over his body also receded somewhat.

At the fried rice stall by the street in the distance, the large awning stretched overhead quivered gently in the breeze, casting jagged shadows beyond the window.

Even the plump calico cat curled beneath the wall to enjoy the shade had been lazily dozing, not even flicking its tail. Hearing the window open, it suddenly raised its head and looked over.

Seeing that nothing was wrong, the little thing licked the fur beside its leg, then sprawled back down with an unhurried air, utterly relaxed.

After a long silence, as though he had finally soaked up enough sun, a faint smile appeared on that still somewhat stiff face.

"That was a little scary..."

Even now, the impression from not long ago continued to echo through Li Yun's mind.

...At the instant their eyes met, an extreme sense of danger had abruptly risen from his instincts, making him stop this "attempt" almost without thinking.

At that moment, "he" had clearly looked over, yet he had not simply been "looking" at a person or object. That gaze pierced through all that was seen and all that existed, like the high heavens hanging beyond the world—illuminating the myriad realms without ever producing the slightest pause or concern.

...Li Yun had seen it clearly. Reflected in those eyes was only a detached, unattached "void" beyond all else.

"So this was 'Divinity'..."

"That was truly dangerous."

Li Yun looked calmly at the hand resting on the windowsill.

Under the golden sunlight, his hand was now slender and fair. It was difficult to find even the slightest flaw upon it. No matter who looked at it, they would likely be unable to deny that it was a beautiful hand.

...Though beneath that incomprehensible gaze, it too would have turned to ashes in an instant, with no ability to resist whatsoever.

This was no exaggeration, nor was it a joke.

He had truly felt it then—when facing that gaze that seemed cast down from the endless ages, the detachment and vastness within it were like standing at the beginning of the universe's birth, and also like being at the end of all things.

That was Divinity... and also the "Heavenly Will" of using one's own heart in place of heaven's heart.

Even if it had only been a glance.

Silent and soundless, yet seeing through everything, as if all things in the world and every fluctuation of thought had nowhere to hide beneath that unattached, nameless gaze. Then, like brushing dust from one's clothes, it casually and indifferently swept away every trace within them.

Like dew, like lightning—thus should one perceive it.

All of his thoughts and ideas began to show traces of unstable illusion and dissolution beneath that gaze, like a dream, a shadow, a drop of dew, a bubble—true and false, nothing more than that.

More than that, even his own "existence" seemed to reveal an ambiguous quality, hanging by a thread, seeming both present and absent.

...That terrifying feeling that he might be silently erased at any moment with a single thought had left an especially "deep impression" on him.

No one liked the feeling of having their life and death beyond their control.

And even though that "Li Yun" was merely himself existing in another illusory "possibility" born from an attempt, he could not truly take the initiative to attack himself.

But strictly speaking, the sense of threat experienced by the Li Yun collective at that moment had not come entirely from the other party. More of it had come from the Azure Mirror in his hand!

—Once he came into contact with and accepted that excessive possibility, he would lose his "self"!

This was the instinctive warning from that vast floating dream toward the "state of mind" within it!

It was an obvious fact.

After all, judging solely from the other party's performance during that brief meeting, it could undoubtedly be summarized in the literal sense—perhaps he was still some distance from being a god, but he was already very far from being human.

That was the truth naturally revealed by that phantom within the boundless, silent void.

He was powerful, certainly.

But the price was that faint humanity which had almost been entirely worn away, something that sounded so "insignificant," ultimately disappearing completely into his godlike detachment and all-encompassing Dao-Nature.

The human heart was merely the gathering and dispersal of fleeting thoughts, disturbed by body and intent, like rootless duckweed—ever-changing and restless...

That Divinity, however, knew neither joy nor sorrow. It operated according to essence and saw through truth and falsehood. Like bright moonlight shining down, it easily severed the parts of one's thoughts that might be called "illusions."

The instincts of the body, meaningless attachments, thoughts stirred by outward appearances...

Once every shallow trace representing the human side had been cut away and erased, one would naturally draw closer to heaven and farther from humanity.

This was clearly not an outcome that everyone could accept.

That was why the instinctive warning in the dream had descended.

External things could hardly shake the essence of the master of the boundless Great Dream, but if his own heart actively decided to accept a possibility that could already be called a "self that was not himself" for his own use, then that would simply be the path he had chosen.

The Mirror could neither stop such an act nor deny the various changes that might arise from it.

In the end, it was merely a "vessel" that carried the Dao, not the "heart" that truly made the choice.

Thus, this act of voluntarily attempting to "swallow the ocean with a drop of water" was naturally a genuine path to death!

"I really was a bit reckless..."

After swiftly sorting through the details of the problems that had emerged, Li Yun was somewhat moved.

When he had realized the nature of the "enhancements" those Main God users obtained through their own exchanges, he had immediately noticed something unusual about them.

And because the Main God Game had already welcomed its first batch of users and begun gradually forming a relatively stable source of income, Li Yun had, out of curiosity, gritted his teeth and allocated one hundred thousand units of mental energy to conduct an "exchange"—or rather, a deduction—upon himself according to the Divinity enhancement path of a certain source worldview.

The good news was that the effect had been excellent. It had even successfully deduced a version of "himself" that had at least stepped into the Demigod level and initially possessed the quality of being impervious through countless calamities...

The bad news was that the effect had been too good, far beyond what he had expected! It had left him utterly unqualified to contain such a "possibility"!

Or rather, if he truly wanted to attempt a forced fusion without losing himself, the price that needed to be prepared in advance would likely be far higher than this mere expenditure of one hundred thousand points!

"Sigh."

Thinking of the one hundred thousand points he had wasted by actively cutting off the fusion process midway, Li Yun, who had become a genuine spendthrift this time, could not help but feel a pang of heartache.

He did not deny the profound stirrings within his heart at that moment.

After realizing that "his" essence was clearly utterly different from his own and yet held no separation from it, some vague intuition told him—

As long as he swallowed that "possibility," the rich accumulation it represented would be enough to support him all the way until he reached the boundary that truly separated humans from gods, without encountering many more obstacles.

Eternal life and freedom from the mortal shell would be easy matters.

It could even be said that, back when he had first verified the reality of Dream in the Mirror and had yet to attempt the creation of the remains of the [Cosmic Model], the vague "goal" for his life that had surfaced in his first instinctive reaction had been nothing more than this.

It was a fruit of "sublimation" practically laid before him, within easy reach.

But precisely because of this, when he understood what the phantom before him represented and sensed the boundless "weight" of the other party, like facing an extreme celestial body of the universe, unconsciously drawing his resonant self toward it, Li Yun decisively chose to withdraw on the spot and abandon this enormous temptation that even his instincts found difficult to resist.

He had always understood the importance of making a clean break when it was needed.

...The waters here ran too deep. He could not grasp them yet.

But clearly, even if this had merely been a wasteful act, it had indeed revealed a problem—

For Dream in the Mirror, the "value" of living beings and inanimate objects seemed to differ.

According to the naturally formed hierarchy within the dream, if those one hundred thousand points were invested in exchanging for an "inanimate object," at most they would only yield a supernatural item of the seventh or eighth tier.

But when they were used on his own "enhancement" this time, they had yielded a "result" of at least the ninth or tenth tier. It might even have vaguely begun to possess the qualifications to touch that gulf and rise above mortal things!

...Beyond the tenth tier lay, in theory, a realm that had already transcended the limits and origins of the mortal world, a domain sufficient to be called that of God-Demons.

This was something that had to be taken especially seriously.

Was it that living beings and creatures inherently held unequal significance to Dream in the Mirror? Or was it simply because of Li Yun's own "special nature" as the master of this floating dream that this accident had produced such astonishing results?

Clearly, this was also a subject that [Main God] would need to gather test data on and study afterward.

He remained silent for a long while.

Without turning around, he casually made a grasping motion. The pair of black-framed glasses by the table seemed tugged by an invisible force, smoothly tracing an arc through the air and landing in Li Yun's hand.

In truth, this body of his had already begun to develop some power that defied common sense.

And from the information Li Yun had sensed, this was not the effect of any "exchange." It was merely an outward sign of some hidden essence within himself gradually improving under the subtle influence of Dream in the Mirror.

It had begun to carry a hint of that Buddhist scripture phrase: "Supernatural transformations are all naturally complete."

Or rather, even without taking the path of refining dream objects, he himself could be regarded as slowly progressing along an unknown "path of evolution."

It was not that Li Yun lacked patience.

...It was simply that, compared to that, how long this path with no discernible clues would take, and where exactly it led, were truly difficult to say.