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Chapter 654 - 651: "At Least Cherish Yourself.

Chapter 654: Chapter 651: "At Least Cherish Yourself.

Su Ming’an stared at the approaching Peg.

Rong Yuan indeed had ways, and had dressed Peg up to look very much like Lv Shu, yet Su Ming’an only felt sickened seeing this replica approaching him.

"Get lost," whispered Su Ming’an.

Peg didn’t hear and continued walking forward, his black and white Hanfu embroidered with immortal cranes and bamboo leaves, styled exactly like Lv Shu’s from days of yore.

The surrounding people caught their breath in focus, many freezing their smiles.

Su Ming’an extended his hand.

Seeing this, Peg immediately extended his as well, seemingly wanting to clasp his hand—

"Snap," a light sound.

Su Ming’an’s index finger was pressing against Peg’s forehead, with a faint glow of dark annihilation flickering.

Peg’s cold sweat "whooshed" down, his legs gave way, and he collapsed to the ground, unable to get up. A clear abrasion was left on his forehead.

The hall fell deathly silent.

Next to him, Andeveis of the Freedom Alliance glanced at Peg and continued discussing the matters of going to war with Su Ming’an as if nothing had happened, smiling as though nothing was amiss.

Peg’s approach was like a jester’s performance.

The mockery in the eyes of the onlookers was like sharp swords, forcing the humiliated Peg to scramble up and flee out the door.

In the cold night, the chill was no longer biting. With Acto’s leftover heating technology, Doomsday City enjoyed spring all year round.

Rong Yuan waited outside the door, his face dark as thunder. Nearby, there was a swimming pool filled with water and neatly bundled sun umbrellas, the environment was thoughtfully set up.

Seeing the flustered Peg come out, his expression grew even darker.

"You came out so quickly, did he reject you?" Rong Yuan said coldly.

"He doesn’t like the white hair at all, he almost killed me!" Peg shouted loudly, his voice thunderous.

Rong Yuan quickly covered his mouth, thankful that besides some patrolling guards, there were no others around.

"Strange, this method doesn’t work?" Rong Yuan whispered, "He can’t possibly dislike the white hair, everyone says he likes it. It must be that you’re too contrived."

Peg whispered back, "I was already very similar..."

"No helping it, if even Acto is unwilling to spare me, then I can only..." Rong Yuan mumbled to himself.

In contemplation, he led Peg away from the place.

"Plop." A soft sound came from the swimming pool, as a head slowly emerged.

The blond Edward stared quietly at the departing Rong Yuan, then climbed out of the swimming pool and leapt out like a ghost.

...

Su Ming’an had no desire to attend this banquet, whether in the past or now, he had always detested such gatherings resembling family reunions.

He was used to the cold stares; the moment his father died, those smiling relatives from before shunned him like one would a plague, and he had understood from a young age that even blood ties were composed of interests.

It was the same now, this dinner to welcome and de-dust Acto was but a clash of interests wrapped in a power struggle, and he had already overheard countless probes.

His cup was always empty, not a drop of wine touched, and no one else dared force him to drink, rather they covertly inquired about the recent outlook of Doomsday City.

This bunch had impure thoughts, with some even harboring the idea of overthrowing Doomsday City. After all, the technology he had given these people had almost been fully assimilated, and some thought of burning bridges after crossing.

He had a plethora of cutting-edge technology that had not yet been leaked, just waiting for someone to turn against him.

Suddenly, a thick scent of alcohol assaulted his nostrils.

"Cough, cough cough..."

He stepped back, his face red from choking.

He looked up to see a white-haired woman dressed in a gold-trimmed evening gown. Her gown shimmered like twinkling gold, dazzlingly bright, seeming to have every imaginable jewel added to it, and she carried an intoxicating scent of alcohol.

"Lord of Acto City," she said, her face flushed with rosiness, "why aren’t you drinking? Come, let me pour you a glass... "

She was the City Lord of Ninth City, Heracles, the most prestigious person in the banquet hall. Ninth City, originally the Ninth District of the Deity Faction, had become a city after districts one through ten were developed. She became the lord of a city, and her status soared with her city’s rise.

Ninth City was in a strategic location, with several mineral sources nearby that Doomsday City desperately needed, making it a primary trading partner. If relations with Ninth City were to rupture, Doomsday City would face not only a cutoff of its resource supply but also a counterattack from its former ally.

A full-scale war had only just begun, and Ninth City’s attitude was already ambiguous. It was very likely that they would betray the Deity Faction and become Doomsday City’s ally, so Tretiya and the others, needing Ninth City’s assistance, dared not offend Heracles.

Therefore, Heracles knew she had enough capital; what did it matter if Yasa Acto had high prestige during the Century Catastrophe? He certainly wouldn’t dare to offend her now.

She had set her sights on this City Lord written into history books long ago. He appeared too clean and composed, which made him all the more charming in her eyes.

Seeing Su Ming’an choking and his eyes misty with tears, she found the sight even more enchanting. He was better-looking than the eight lovers in her villa.

When a person is draped with various halos and elevated to godhood, pulling down a God becomes quite an interesting affair.

"City Lord Heracles, my teacher doesn’t drink," Tretiya appeared in an instant, as if teleported, and positioned herself like a hen protecting her chick in front of Su Ming’an.

"What business is it of yours when we City Lords are conversing?" Heracles curled her red lips, her eyes brimming with aggression and ambition.

With a forceful push, she moved through Tretiya’s wheat-colored hair and shoved her aside.

Tretiya’s face turned red with anger, but she could not retaliate. This was a social event, and she couldn’t attack Heracles for personal reasons.

"Yasa," Heracles called him by the affectionate name without any sense of restraint and drew close to Su Ming’an. Immediately, everyone around stepped back, no one daring to stand before the mighty City Lord of Ninth City.

"Just drink this glass, and Ninth City’s Cecil Legion will be at your command."

Heracles’s pale wrist tipped, and the bright red wine poured into Su Ming’an’s empty glass, glittering like blood under the golden chandelier light.

Tretiya stood her ground, distressed but not daring to advance.

She indeed did not dare to offend Heracles.

The disadvantage of Doomsday City lay in its insufficient resources and depth. If the main supply line from Ninth City were cut off, many of the large machines currently in production would halt, and there would be a shortage of resources for a series of assembly line productions, potentially leading to a breakdown of the trade chain.

The Cecil Legion of Ninth City was something they had heard about. It was Ninth City’s elite legion, armed with the most advanced M-09 model submachine guns and electronic protective clothing. If they could employ this legion...

For a moment, quite a few people wished that Acto would drink that wine.

Su Ming’an glanced at the gleam in Heracles’s eyes, then down at the red wine glass in his hand.

There was no question about it, the wine was tampered with, but it was certainly not poison. Heracles wouldn’t dare to poison him, for if Doomsday City chose to enter a deathmatch with her, Ninth City too would be annihilated.

So, if it was not poison inside, it could only be...

Su Ming’an looked up.

Those who had claimed they wanted to become his partners had retreated far away, fearful of getting involved. Even the Vice Alliance Hierarch of the Freedom Alliance, who had just engaged in pleasant conversation with him, stood by smiling without any intention of intervening.

In the distance, Lu glanced to the side at Yuanyuan, who was looking at her brother Che; Che sought help by looking at Xia Sheng, who in turn glanced at Xī, and Xī looked at Cheng Luohe, Cheng Luohe at Luna, and Luna, at Rimu Sheng...

A series of glances were exchanged; everyone looking at each other, but not a single person stepping forward.

They lacked the "appropriate" identities to shatter that wine bottle.

Some Players reveled in the disaster, thinking they were in for a good show today, while some heavyweight Players wanted to push Heracles aside and take his place.

Heracles’s hand, painted with red nails, paused on the rim of the wineglass, holding it between her fingers, the edge of the glass nearing Su Ming’an’s lips.

"One glass of wine for a hundred thousand troops," Heracles whispered, "As a ’human hero,’ you wouldn’t refuse this drink for the sake of the battle and more lives, would you... am I that uncharming? Why the hesitation?"

She looked on with appreciation at the hesitation in his eyes; his deep gray eyes appeared quite attractive to her.

Su Ming’an was indeed hesitating, but not about whether to drink the wine.

He was deliberating—whether to burst Heracles’s head now or let her go and in the evening bring out a bunch of high-end weapons to join everyone in bombing the Ninth City.

He reached out to snatch the wineglass.

To everyone else, it looked like he was reaching out his hand to take the wineglass—

"Looks like you really do fancy white fur, even willing to drink such a wine."

An indifferent voice sounded from nowhere, and a hand abruptly appeared over Heracles’s head, gripping her white hair and smashing her down with force!

"Clang—!"

Heracles was smashed to the ground by the hand, coughing up blood, as a large amount of Source instantly appeared on her body, seemingly to resist. Yet, a golden sword blade descended from the glazed ceiling, piercing fiercely through her shoulder, nailing her to the ground.

"Ahhhh—" Heracles screamed, blood oozing from her shoulder, the ground dyed red.

The hand released her white hair, and a figure slowly took shape amidst the brilliance; his other hand was elegantly holding the wineglass flung by Heracles.

Seeing this show-off’s entrance, Su Ming’an knew who it was.

Every time this person made an entrance, he had to create a dazzling effect; perhaps it was an aftereffect of impersonating deities at the Church of Pulaya up in the clouds.

"Just the Ninth City, and you would sacrifice a hero for it?" Su Rin scoffed, surveying the silent onlookers: "A mere hundred thousand troops, I alone could compensate for them."

"Then you drink it," Su Ming’an said.

Su Rin’s sudden appearance had thrown off his thoughts; he still wanted to lure out some with ulterior motives. Shadow was resistant, even if he drank the wine, ordinary drugs would not likely bring him down.

Su Rin gave him a look and then forcibly poured the wine into Heracles’s mouth.

"The world does not require you to strive to such lengths," Su Rin implied: "At least cherish yourself; the situation has not yet reached a point where you must sell yourself out."

On the ground, Heracles began to writhe about, the scene extremely irritating to the eyes.

"Drag her out and lock her up," Su Rin ordered coldly.

The people at the scene looked at each other in confusion, no one heeding his words.

"Do as he says," Su Ming’an said.

Immediately, servers from outside came in and dragged Heracles away, leaving behind a long trail of blood.

Following this incident, Su Ming’an no longer had the heart to stay, and several collaborators also looked embarrassed. After exchanging a few simple words, Su Ming’an left the scene early.

The cold wind on the rooftop ruffled his black hair as he rested his hands on the railing, looking down at the city that had changed greatly over the last ten years.

Under the veil of night, the 132-story Era Central Tower was gradually being built, and the light rail was also under construction; he saw several resource storage towers, development sites, and green-light-flashing bus stations.

In the distance, the azure glow of the Shield flickered, with the outer city of Doomsday City being reclaimed. The hundreds of thousands of inhabitants of this city lived in busy toil.

Su Rin walked up to him.

"The Second City is under my control, and it will always support Doomsday City," Su Rin said: "Doomsday City is now plagued by internal strife and external threats. If you do not know the ways of power, I will teach you how to deal with these political struggles."

"Why would you want to help me?" Su Ming’an asked.

"I can’t stand it," Su Rin said: "I can’t stand those who side with the Invaders."

"No need for excuses."

"My helping you has nothing to do with you, it’s because you are the leader of the Freedom Faction," Su Rin said.

"Alright," Su Ming’an said.

The two fell silent for a while.

"Regarding the three time stream lines of the Ninth World, the information I currently have is..." Su Ming’an shared the clues with Su Rin, seeking his opinion.

After listening, Su Rin pondered for a while.

"Su Ming’an," he asked, "have you ever heard of the concept of Two-Dimensional Worlds?"

"Like a world on paper? Parallel worlds?"

"Have you considered that these three timelines might not be within the same dimension?" Su Rin asked.

Su Ming’an was taken aback; he initially thought the three time streams were already complicated enough, and now Su Rin was introducing the concept of different dimensional spaces.

This meshing of time and space... if multiplied, how complex would this world be?

"Are you talking about the Dimensional Ascension and Downgrade Dimension?" Su Ming’an asked.

"Yes, something like that," Su Rin said.

"I don’t quite understand, I will conduct more probes," Su Ming’an said.

Su Rin gazed into the distance.

"Then tonight, let’s eradicate the Ninth City first, to avoid future troubles," Su Rin suddenly proposed: "Otherwise, the white fur they send you will be endless."

"Just the two of us?" Su Ming’an asked.

"That’s enough."

"Seems so."

...

As night fell,

The Ninth City welcomed two uninvited guests.

The city’s night was illuminated as if it were day by the brilliant golden light, and countless dazzling rays fell from the sky.

After Su Ming’an killed the Deputy City Lord of the Ninth City with Spatial Concealment, he opened the window and saw Su Rin outside creating a scene like setting off golden fireworks.

He raised his hand.

Jellyfish-like floating guns materialized behind him, aiming at the High Tower at the center of the Ninth City—where the Deity’s insignia were constructed.

"Boom—!"

With a loud blast, the insignia of the Deity shattered in the light, and the Mechanical Army fell like mown wheat.

Su Rin landed on the ground and gestured to him.

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