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Chapter 690 - 687・BE20・"Second Death

Chapter 690: Chapter 687・BE20・"Second Death

[I seemed to have seen a future a year later. Su Ming’an won in the end, and he became a god who could not die, with no one left around him. Noel knelt before the children, pulled the trigger, and committed suicide; Lv Shu, as part of the game, would never return and died as a boss in the instance; Yuanyuan’s sword broke, and she never saw Su Ming’an again before she died; Mizushima Kawa Sora held the doll and refused to let go; Edward had lost his strength and became a madman, rummaging for food in the trash; Luna suffered depression targeted by the audience; Yamada Machiichi disappeared; Lu died from betrayal and abandonment...]

[—From the "Human Stars Shine" TOP20 hot post on the World Forum, January 31, 2022]

...

Su Ming’an had once realized that he seemed to not actually be part of himself.

When he entered the instance, he was more often playing someone else, and various emotions and information crazily flooded into his shell, his "self" gradually diluted, and in the end, there wasn’t much left that was his own.

He could vaguely remember things before the World Game began, but he could no longer empathize with himself from four months ago.

Some even said that "Su Ming’an" might be a model of a bionic person deployed by the organizers, and every time Su Ming’an was on the brink of failure, a new bionic body seamlessly took over, allowing him to continue passing through. Therefore, people could always see Su Ming’an winning.

— They said he was a "collective" of objectives and desires.

Like a program, like a machine, or it could be said he was like a "deity of this world". The codename "Su Ming’an" was already tinged with deification, and everyone breathed slower when saying his name, as if chanting a divine name.

Su Ming’an was also once puzzled by this.

But now, while talking with Yuanyuan, he could put aside these thoughts.

"Alright, I’ll tell you about my past..." he said.

They were still like before the game started; he would share books in his spare time, and she would listen quietly.

He was sure that what they had was not love, but rather a bond like that of kinship. She was an anchor that prevented him from getting lost. Similar broken families, similarly unfortunate childhoods, made them share the same destiny.

"...After you left, what impressed me the most was that wooden building in the flames. I saw Yang Xia crossing decades to come back and save Dong Xue, becoming the sheep that accompanied her in the rain.

"...That knight told me that he was willing to endure the system constraints known as the ’Knight of Light,’ he sincerely wished me prosperity in my combat, and was grateful that I treated him as an equal soul.

"He said, ’Captain, because you are also a human. You are also a being that transcends settings, absolutely independent.’ I never thought, his words could comfort me now, so far away in the Ninth World, despite us being so distant.

"There’s also that little swindler...misunderstood, constantly killed, reincarnated thousands of times, yet maintaining everlasting compassion; she told me I was her beloved traveler, she said she would definitely win in the next reincarnation..."

Su Ming’an spoke incessantly, firmly believing that the Missionary Halo could heal the disease of absence.

The wheelchair raced between the red rock and the flames, carrying them through the endless, scorching hell of death and heat. Yuanyuan leaned on the wheelchair, listening to Su Ming’an recount the experiences of these nine worlds.

Her long hair was blown up by the hot wind, her cheeks red like apples, yet her expression remained as soft as that of a doll.

She seemed unchanged, yet seemed to have changed a lot. Her gaze was always vibrant and bright, like light, and like snow. Like the cat ear hat girl from the First World who loved to nibble on chocolate bars.

"Ming’an," Yuanyuan suddenly spoke.

She reached out her charred hand, covering his twisted palm:

"I want to tell you...you’re great, couldn’t be better. I like listening to your stories. But I am a bit tired, just leave me here, don’t take me with you, okay?"

She squinted her eyes.

"I can sing with you, as long as we sing I won’t fall asleep," Su Ming’an said.

She must not fall asleep, or else it would mean abandoning rationality and directly facing death. If telling stories would make her sleepy, singing would keep her awake.

She hesitated for a moment, then agreed.

"You have at most five minutes, you must let me go," Yuanyuan said.

Su Ming’an neither nodded nor denied.

Moments later, amidst the red-black hell like condensed magma, her voice broke through.

It was her favorite song. At the high school graduation party, she had sung solo for her class, dressed like a princess in a puffy skirt, even though it showcased the dozens of dark bruises from domestic abuse on her arms.

Yet no one found her scars ugly.

The pearls on her dance dress were lustrous and round, just like her soul, whereas the scars were medals shimmering under the light. During rehearsals, she had practiced over and over again, just like her thousands of sword swings, all were medals formed from her sweat and perseverance.

—So many scars, so many medals, eventually solidified into a soul like hers, a soul named Yuanyuan.

She was always a woman who would courageously draw her sword against the darkness, independent and powerful.

Her singing was gentle, as if the world melted in her raised corners of the mouth:

"The fairy tale book under the pillow,

"Happiness secretly stored away,

"The young me wanted to express some touch,

"The lost fawn in the forest,

"Might encounter the witch,

"As the story begins..."

...

Years sedimented in her eyes, locking away long periods of time.

Su Ming’an remembered, this song Yuanyuan had practiced hundreds of times in private. At that time, he had escaped from home and met her practicing singing in a soundproof area at night, their gazes met, both heavily scarred, as if they were two similar souls.

She said, if feeling sad, just come listen to her sing.

They had huddled together for warmth in the cold winter, like two abandoned young animals. Her singing could always soothe the pain.

"Starlight parts the most mysterious fog,

"On tiptoes, the dance steps swirl,

"Dazedly listening to someone’s crying.

"The moonlight advises the plants outside the window,

"Remember to make way for children,

"Who will redeem my loneliness...?"

The wheelchair rushed out of the Blood Pool area, instantly facing the wind and snow, her scorched hair whitened by the snow.

The brilliant fireworks exploded in the distance, the land as broad as a dream, the falling fireworks beneath a seeming constellation collapsing on the shore.

The two lonely souls sang together, as if celebrating the upcoming new year, unaware that they both were on the brink of death, encountering despair.

He stared at her face, the red in the depths of her eyes slowly expanding; the time was nearly close to the day of her death the previous loop.

The wheelchair raced onward, half of the girl’s face bathed in the misty light, her fluttering hair like a flowing galaxy. The blood light in her eyes climbed higher and higher.

"You are the princess from the fairy tale standing in the light..."

She kept on singing, her head held high, revealing her slender neck covered in burn scars.

He had once asked her what was the greatest harvest of her growth, and she responded without hesitation that it was being able to play games with him afterwards.

Even if it meant traveling such a long way, wading through such deep rivers, enduring so much pain, it was enough.

It was enough.

S-class Luck, it was enough.

This long and distant life, those children blooming like flowers, she saw him desperately trying to save the past him and her. Facing the darkness, stepping into the night, never looking back.

Having accompanied him for so long, she was lucky enough.

"Whirr— " High above, a trace of bright light slowly turned, the brightness of a distant building’s lights reflecting like a swath of clear dawn spreading slowly from the deep night, as if the darkness were a receding tide.

"I put on a grand masquerade mask, turned, and hid in a black suit,"

"Please dance with me before the fairy tale ends..."

At that moment, she raised her hands high, as if it were the peak of summer at that year’s graduation party. She finished performing and took off her splendid puffy dress.

She wasn’t the princess in the lyrics, she couldn’t even afford a puffy dress. Before returning the dress to her classmate, she invited him to dance.

At midnight, Cinderella had to return home to continue her chores.

This was her only chance.

That year, he clumsily danced with her.

"...when dawn comes, let everything, be restored."

The last line of the song finished.

"Dong—" From the bell tower, the ancient bell sounded, casting its distant chime as fireworks splendidly filled the night sky in an instant.

The New Year of 2022 arrived, midnight struck, and thousands celebrated the new year together.

At this moment, Su Ming’an no longer heard her voice.

He slowly turned his head and saw her head slightly bowed, at a 30-degree angle to the ground, her sword gripped tightly, it pierced her throat from the front, passing through her charred hair and pointing high into the sky, like a frozen icicle.

Her sword did not pierce his heart; she still had some rationality, so she turned the blade and pierced her own throat instead.

Her mouth was slightly open as if she wanted to say something, but no sound came.

"Ming... "

Like a bird mercilessly impaled, a delicate red thread strangled her fragile neck, anything seeking freedom was mercilessly severed, head and body alike.

The wind swept through her hair, toying with her gradually loosening fingers.

He could not touch her soul.

"Dong—" From afar, the ancient, melodious bell sounded again, cheers erupted throughout the city, sacred fireworks soared into the sky, and the entire city bathed in the galaxy, the faces of the celebrating people flushed with joy as if being lifted to the blissful heavens.

Under the brilliant lights, the girl’s head fell forward in the cold wind, as if she died in another world unknown to anyone.

Her eyes lost their sparkle, her weak neck skin torn by the ion sword, her head tumbled down.

Su Ming’an extended his only remaining hand, catching her head in the cold wind, his fingers threading through her black hair.

"..."

He, unable to die, had become the "Tomb of Memories" for many. Their names were the tombstones in his mind that he could never forget, like his second death.

He remembered what Mizushima Haru once said:

"Su Ming’an, from the moment you first became the Number One Player, and sacrificed Yuanyuan, I knew your heart was incredibly selfish."

"You will lose everything, family, friends, you’ll be left with no one by your side, nothing in your hands, you cannot keep anything."

He was indeed selfish.

If at the very beginning, he had let Yuanyuan stay safely in the rear rather than letting her go to battle, would she still be alive?

If he could have stopped her sooner, if his reset point could have been set earlier, wouldn’t she have... avoided contracting the missing disease?

Back then, if only he had held her back, asked her not to enter Caius Tower, would she... have avoided danger?

He did not do everything in his power to keep her from going into battle— wasn’t he at fault, even a little?

He searched his soul, trembling all over. Amidst prolonged endurance, he even heard his own voice questioning himself, hoarse as if damp gravel,

"—didn’t you use her?"

Didn’t you?

"..."

He gasped sharply.

—Hadn’t he used her?

He had won the toughest war, escaped the shackles of the ancient deities; he was a great man of the Dawn War, a hero who saved countless lives—respected by all, watched by the world, he was the Lord of Acto City, second only to none.

...Yet, in the 49-year timeline, he couldn’t even retain the soul of a girl.

If only he could have been a bit earlier, exerted his strength a bit more, spoken to her a bit sooner, taken her away a bit sooner, in countless reincarnations, clapped his hands together with all his might...

With a "clack" sound, he moved closer to the blade, which also pierced through his neck.

He spat blood, holding her as he crawled down, as if burying himself into the soil.

Bai Xue and the light on the water blurred his eyes; he couldn’t see the lifelessness in her eyes, only felt a burning sensation in his throat as if his skin was being torn apart.

His hands reached out, but he grasped nothing. The ice and snow froze his soul.

Until his head and neck loosened, his vision tumbling forward, as if this could embrace the eternal rest and freedom—

"Gurgle..."

Only the new year’s flame and her blade glowed faintly, rolling down with his head into the darkness.

"..."

If there were no World Game...

If nothing had started... he wouldn’t be here, repeatedly dying from severe burns. She wouldn’t have suffered from deficiency illness, desperate enough to kill herself.

—The girl in the cat-ear cap; she was supposed to be a grown white swan.

She would sing, wield a sword. She had a life full of novelties; she stepped out of the shadows of her childhood. She grew into a free and radiant soul, protecting everyone around her, even a nameless soldier.

But in the end, like a madwoman, she drove the blade into herself, her neck snapping. Her bloodied head rolled into his hands, her eyes never closing even in death.

Su Ming’an knew what her last words meant.

"..."

"Ming’an, find someone else to play games with you..."

"..."

She had once wanted to hear him play the piano, play games with him, witness the future of humanity with him, greet a brighter life.

She knew his mother had woken up, his mother would make things difficult for him, he no longer had a father, no one loved him like that anymore. Humanity watched him with covetous eyes; she wanted to stand by his side. She wanted to continue walking with him...

But she couldn’t anymore.

But she felt she couldn’t anymore...

"..."

"..."

[I seem to see the future, a year from now.]

[—Su Ming’an won in the end, he became a god who couldn’t die.]