When he had first gained a sense of self and consciousness, he had wandered through the void beyond the myriad worlds, which appeared before him as books.
Every world was a book with endless pages. He had no interest in books, but he was interested in people.
He had casually leafed through them and glanced at those perfect, happy endings. They were far too boring, and he had wondered how nice it would be if he could pull those people out to play with him.
He had been born from the malice of myriad worlds. He liked those gentle souls, but he also liked seeing those gentle, resilient souls tortured until they shattered. Even more, he liked seeing them scream, rage, suffer, despair, and beg for mercy.
As an undying existence, he had finally pried open the core's protective layer after dying several thousand times.
He had simply set about altering those books. But there were far too many, so he had made a few random changes to many worlds or destroyed them outright, not bothering to read each world's protagonist's story closely.
"So that's how it was," Jun Changmo murmured.
Jun Changmo pursed his lips and sighed. "Sorry, I've altered too many worlds. I really can't remember these things clearly."
"I never remember such boring things."
At those casually spoken words, "can't remember clearly," [Fu Hanchuan]'s eyes abruptly darkened. He raised his longsword sharply and, letting the soul inside him shatter, pierced Jun Changmo's newly restored body once again.
The intense pain made Jun Changmo frown and cough up a mouthful of blood.
Once the pain passed, Jun Changmo still wore a vicious smile. "Humans don't remember how many ants they've crushed underfoot. I don't remember your stories either."
Jun Changmo gently moved his limbs and discovered that he