Super Righteous Player
Chapter 431 - 428: The Final Trial_1

Chapter 431: Chapter 428: The Final Trial_1

The Annan of the past dared to decisively give up memories for certain things, for a certain purpose.

Annan could believe that such resolute, complete abandonment was indeed an action he could take...

But Annan would never give up everything for some trifling matter.

To Annan, the memory of details was a great treasure in itself.

Because he truly had this talent for discerning the human heart.

So then conversely... what was it that Annan was willing to forsake everything to pursue?

Without a doubt.

It was that intense and fervid positive emotion that had never been frozen by the "Winter’s Heart".

Now Annan understood completely.

——The original, pure desire for asceticism that Annan possessed.

——The fearless heart brought about by the inverted Winter’s Heart.

——The unstoppable, repetitive failures.

The heart of asceticism, not yet frozen by the Winter’s Heart, faced the torment of failure with only fervor and persistence; the inverted Winter’s Heart could burn away the weariness, despair, and fear that Annan felt when facing failure; the endless, perpetual failures would keep Annan from seeking a second answer, for to do the same thing yet expect a different result is the act of a fool.

Under the intertwining influence of these three factors, the agony of torment turned into absurd joy.

The greater the pain, the greater the joy it brought.

——This was a trial that only Annan could pass through.

This wasn’t a test that could be reached by persistence alone, but rather a seal that would wander the abyss forever without any one of the keys.

If Annan didn’t have that heart of asceticism, he would only think about how many times he’d need to repeat before being saved by Salvatore; if Annan didn’t have the inverted Winter’s Heart, he would have despaired and taken his own life amidst the infinite failures; if Annan hadn’t faced such desperation, he would certainly have brainstormed and sought another solution.

Denton never imagined that the trap he designed would become the finest whetstone.

This was an ordeal that could reshape one’s character——the Annan from before this nightmare and the current one were definitely not the same person.

"In this regard, I must thank you, Denton."

Even if the previous memories were now blurred like a dream.

Annan would never forget the ecstasy of clawing his way up from the abyss.

"I have never felt... so good."

Annan savored the joy and ebullience in his heart.

His soul shone so brilliantly.

He keenly felt something glorious awakening... deep within his soul.

Annan was also extremely certain.

The murders Denton committed against him in the world of dreams were now utterly meaningless.

"Come again, Denton!"

He laughed heartily, his eyes shining with brilliance: "I want to see what more you can bring me!"

"——It will be as you wish."

Finally, a somber voice arose in front of Annan.

A child sitting opposite, perfectly mirroring Annan’s movements.

That was Annan’s reflection.

The same ice-blue pupils, the same clothes.

But Annan’s hair was black, while the other’s was white.

And the most crucial difference——Annan’s pupils shone like stars against the night sky.

Whereas the other’s pupils were like a calm, emotionless deep ice lake.

Though they had never met... Annan immediately understood that this was the Dream Stealer, Denton.

Or rather, it was the spiritual effigy reconstructed by Denton’s will, borrowing Annan’s memories.

He couldn’t say it was completely Denton.

But it was a new entity born from the combination of all of Denton and Annan’s memories.

——But memory is not something that gets stronger with quantity.

Once, Annan was willing to abandon his memories and start anew, exactly for this reason.

"Is it you who wants to take over my body?"

Annan’s lips curled into a great, brilliant smile, "Interesting, you dare to appear before me?"

Although it was a broad smile, it unexpectedly made people feel an innate chill.

Facing Annan’s questioning, "Denton" fell silent for a moment.

"I indeed greatly underestimated you."

"Denton" slowly began to speak, "According to my original calculations, this pure fear, even if it couldn’t trap you... should at least have caused you to feel a sense of despair. You’re a hedonist, a capricious madman,"

"You’ve become stronger than the you in my memories."

"Isn’t that a given?"

Annan’s smile didn’t fade in the slightest, "Every minute, every second, I grow stronger than I was the moment before.

"I have not aged, so progress is only natural. You are acquainted with the me from a few hours ago, but the me now is already different."

"Is this the power of the Book of the Celestial Chariot? The path of Ascension and Change..."

Denton murmured.

"—Wrong, Denton."

Annan’s smile gradually subsided.

He spoke earnestly, "This is my power. It is the result reached by my will.

"It’s precisely because the me of the past chose to abandon all frost-bitten emotions and memories—that the me now has no weaknesses in my heart.

"Just like how after mixing in ’Denton’s’ element, my purity has diminished."

"Purity—is it of any use?"

"Denton" asked calmly in return.

In response to the predictable counter-question from "Denton," Annan burst into even louder laughter, "Worthy of you! Worthy of me! To catch onto such a quip... That’s fantastic!

"Give me the ultimate nightmare."

Annan looked at "Denton," and said calmly, "Otherwise, I’ll kill you right now."

"It’s already been prepared for you."

"It’s not something I’ve played before, is it?"

"Of course not, and it’s very simple, incredibly brief."

"Denton" closed his eyes.

And the painting nearby him once again vanished, transforming into the pupil of an elderly man.

Annan gazed fearlessly at that painting.

The flame-like madness that had just awakened in the depths of his heart urged him to take risks.

The closer to death, the more he experienced failure... the more powerful the force in his heart surged.

The next moment.

The scene before Annan’s eyes shifted again.

He lay in a hospital bed.

His body was extremely weak, barely able to see through blurred eyes, struggling to speak when he opened his mouth. The faint voices he heard seemed to chisel at his brain, incredibly noisy.

He was surrounded by people, whom he neither recognized nor could see clearly.

He felt someone sitting beside him, holding his aged hand; he sensed someone crying softly in the corner, someone pacing outside the room. Some people were looking at him, and some didn’t dare look at all.

And Annan strangely felt that his time had come.

Death stood at the head of his bed; the next breath he exhaled might be his last.

Annan suddenly understood.

This time it wasn’t about escaping an escape room with a time limit, or playing a long, strategic role-playing game against others, nor was it about repeatedly failing in a platformer filled with the creator’s malice... It was simply a very simple game of "moving forward."

As soon as Annan accepted the fate that he was already dead, this extremely brief game without even a direction would end.

—But if Annan accepted the fate that he was dead.

Could he still wake up?