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Chapter 736 - 733: "He is the real Acto.

Chapter 736: Chapter 733: "He is the real Acto.

"——Welcome, everyone, to the banquet,"

Lord of Acto City, dressed in a white suit similar to Su Ming’an, the well-tailored outfit accentuating his slender figure, raised a toast from the top of the staircase to the people below.

His presence lacked sharpness or a deathly aura, yet it was enough to suppress everyone present.

Ming’an didn’t join the others in a toast. He noticed a red-haired woman beside Acto, who looked like Fayse.

In the shimmering golden light, Acto descended the steps at a leisurely pace, his gaze filled with an expansive and penetrating spiritual energy:

"I have always believed that honor and virtue are ornaments of the soul, and that without them, a beautiful body, though seemingly lovely, should not be considered beautiful. Simply appreciating the unique beauty in each of you is a proposition that I find very intriguing,"

Light fell upon his shoulders, and his deep gray pupils reflected the splendidly dressed men and women. He walked past a table draped in a white cloth, where silver candlesticks gleamed with a golden luster.

His hands were crossed, as if observing or contemplating something.

"Clearly, everyone present is very beautiful to my eyes. I like the way you all look," he said, advancing toward the crowd, pausing, and picking up a glass of red wine from a small table, "I hope you all have a pleasant night in such beauty."

People toasted once again.

Crystal glasses sparkling with light, a chandelier like the sun, diamonds on people’s formal attire glinting brightly.

——All these dazzling halos were blinding to the eyes.

Ming’an narrowed his eyes—was Acto the kind of person he remembered in his memories?

Unlikely.

Acto didn’t like using mechanical legs, so he always sat in a wheelchair. This person couldn’t possibly be Acto; he seemed closer to a deity.

Deities stand on the stage, their adherents beneath, their eyes revealing a faint blood-red hue.

This was a magnificent paradise, yet it had been taken over by demons.

Suddenly, Acto’s wrist tilted, and in a swift move, he poured the red wine over his pristine white collar, the blood-like liquid spreading across his chest and cascading down the white suit into the red carpet.

"You see, I dislike it when people’s chests are too clean," he said, discarding the empty glass, "It means they’re only busy straightening their collars, focusing on a dazzling but shallow appearance. I prefer the look of someone with vigor.

Whether covered with frost or drenched in blood, that is the humanity I cherish. I do not want humanity’s essence to be lost, its greatness and the inescapable fate of the individual intertwined. In short——"

"I like the way you pave the way for the future."

He had a charisma that made everyone almost blindly believe in him.

As if with a few words, he could swindle all the chips off a gambler.

One by one, people began to spill the red wine on their chests as if it were a uniform act of worship. The crimson liquid trailed down their clothes, leaving concentric marks on the polished marble like the remnants of a dying fire.

This strange and eerily orderly scene was like a chorus of praise.

Amid the fragrance and shadows, they proclaimed loudly—

We celebrate your great deeds.

We praise your illustrious name.

May you lead us forever.

"..."

Ming’an felt increasingly that this Acto was very peculiar. His words carried an enchanting magic power, and even when spouting nonsensical phrases, it was as if he possessed a skill akin to a missionary halo.

"Then, please enjoy the banquet to your heart’s content," Lord of Acto City said in conclusion and left the banquet hall. He didn’t seek out Su Ming’an alone; it was as if Su Ming’an didn’t exist.

"I need to step outside for a bit," Ming’an told Cheng Luohe and walked out.

Upon exiting the banquet hall, the damp, cold air hit him, and the slight flush on Su Ming’an’s face began to fade. He stood at the entrance for a moment, the sound of people’s conversations drifting out with the cold wind:

"I heard the City Lord has been working on something... the Type-Eight Personality! It seems he wants to establish a new social hierarchy, using personality to differentiate classes..."

"We must be superior personalities, then. Ha, think about our contributions during the Dawn War, the City Lord won’t let us down..."

The conversation connected.

Judging by the time, the City of Measurement established by Lord Acto was about to come into existence. The city-state system based on the Dawn System’s division of personalities was beginning to take shape.

Ming’an walked on, not seeing Lord Acto’s figure. Outside this door was a fountain garden, with a path paved in pebbles where the sound of insects could faintly be heard. Moonlight scattered across the path, and the garden was filled with roses and lilies that seemed real under the simulated light and scent.

He heard the sound of a swing moving. Drawing closer, under the moonlight, there was a pair of black-haired father and son talking, the boy’s short legs swinging on the swing.

"Why didn’t you go to the banquet? Everyone’s there. What are you throwing a fit for?" The father was chastising his son.

"I don’t like that City Lord! I don’t want to go and see him! He’s just a tyrant!" The boy’s face was full of defiance.

Upon hearing this, the father’s face showed surprise, and he immediately reached out to cover the boy’s mouth. Such brief insults could bring disaster to their entire family.

"Never say such things, not in your entire life, not even at home!" the father said. "You just need to work well for the city-state and have no ulterior motives! Don’t hang out with those Rebel Army kids! They’re all bad children!"

A gust of cold wind blew, and the rosebushes rustled. Su Ming’an approached the father and son, his gaze lingered on the middle-aged father’s face for a while.

After a moment, Ming’an spoke:

"Yao Wen?"

The middle-aged father was taken aback for a moment, then turned his head, showing a face full of vicissitudes, with turbid eyes.

"You know me? Who are you?" the middle-aged father asked.

This boy, who daringly led the enemy away during the Dawn War and had not been heard from since, had miraculously grown up safely, got married, had children, and became a middle-aged man who obeyed the city-state and had lost his spirit.

Ming’an said, "The current City Lord has suddenly become brutal and merciless. Who do you think I could be?"

Yao Wen’s gaze flickered for a while, as if he were confirming, or perhaps hesitating. His fingers rubbed against the skin on the back of his neck, as if he were straightening his hair.

He kept silent, only his son exclaimed excitedly, "Brother, you came to overthrow the City Lord, right? I support you! That bad City Lord took away so many of my friends!"

"Sorry, kids say the darndest things." Yao Wen pulled his son back behind him, his gaze evasive, "I don’t know you."

Although he had used polite terms, indicating that Yao Wen had guessed Su Ming’an’s true identity, he still chose to act like he didn’t see it.

"... I understand," Su Ming’an said.

Looking at Yao Wen, he felt as though he saw many adults who had been rounded off, becoming progressively slick and worldly, giving up many things for the sake of stability. People call this growth—it’s very rational, the best judgment considering all factors, and he would not blame them.

He turned away.

"—That," Yao Wen couldn’t resist saying, disclosing some information to Su Ming’an, "the City Lord’s real mother was harsh and often abused the young City Lord. She died before the Century Catastrophe. Therefore, in Two Dimensions, the City Lord simulated the image of his ideal mother, known as Fayse—she liked to give him milk, liked to nag; essentially, she was the template for a mother’s character. So when she interacted with us initially, she acted like an overly young mother."

Ming’an nodded. Yao Wen actually knew the truth about Two Dimensions, which meant he was a key NPC too; it was a pity they couldn’t collaborate.

As he was about to step forward, Yao Wen added:

"—Only by obeying the Deity can humanity survive. All resisters have been caught, including Sen, right?"

This was an attempt to persuade him to surrender.

Perhaps in Yao Wen’s eyes, Su Ming’an’s current situation made the idea of seizing control of Doomsday City’s power structure seem like an utter fantasy.

"Sen was the benefactor who took you in initially. Yet now, you speak of him with such frivolous disregard." Su Ming’an said, "How tragic, he was your senior."

He didn’t want to stay any longer.

But he heard Yao Wen’s sobbing:

"Sorry... I don’t have blind seniors who can’t see reality."

Su Ming’an turned and saw Yao Wen under the moonlight, tears streaming down his face. He had aged, with murky tear stains flowing down his wrinkled skin. He was holding his young son, his back slightly hunched. Time had not only taken away some people’s youthful looks but also their pride.

"If you can’t see reality... no matter how passionate you are, it’s useless..." Yao Wen choked up, and then resumed calling Su Ming’an by his title: "City Lord, I am no longer the rash young man willing to sacrifice himself, I now have a wife and son. I’m sorry I can’t follow you..."

He moved his fingers away from the back of his neck, and a few strands of black hair fell to the ground.

Su Ming’an no longer paused; he walked towards the direction of the banquet hall.

He left behind in the moonlight, a large and small figure standing next to the lonely swing, casting long black shadows.

"Click."

Su Ming’an silently entered the banquet hall where, atop a high dais, Lord Acto was seated at a piano playing a tune, his fingers seemingly drawing forth the flowing moonlight.

...Indeed, historically, Acto could play the piano.

This piano piece, Su Ming’an had heard before; it was a variation of the Song of Freedom, a melody that proclaimed human freedom and challenged the deities, yet ironically it was now being played by a deity himself.

When the piece ended, Acto descended from the stage, and the men and women in the banquet hall burst into applause, lavishing praise upon him.

"It’s just a personal hobby, nothing special," Acto said modestly, then suddenly, he shifted his gaze, raising his voice:

"I’ve heard—among us in this banquet hall, there’s another who excels at the piano. Could we invite him to play a piece for us?"

His voice echoed throughout the vast hall. People’s eyes darted about, trying to locate this person.

"Someone among us can also play the piano?"

"Who could it be..."

"To be remembered by the City Lord, that person truly is fortunate..."

Cheng Luohe immediately clutched Su Ming’an’s sleeve, "Chief, don’t stand up, let him make a fool of himself alone."

But soon, Cheng Luohe realized his mistake. Even if the NPCs didn’t know Su Ming’an could play the piano, the players did, and unanimously, they turned their gaze to the sofa where Su Ming’an was seated.

—The players’ gazes had betrayed Su Ming’an.

And at that moment, Lord Acto happened to look towards Su Ming’an, smiling as he spoke, "May I invite you to come up and play a piece? The new Chief of the Underground City?"

The crowd’s expression turned solemn.

The term ’Underground City’ was synonymous with wide-scale purges and massacres, yet the City Lord was now inviting the Underground City’s Chief...

Amid the nervous, amused, hesitant, and doubtful gazes of the audience, Su Ming’an lifted his head and said indifferently:

"No."

He rejected Lord Acto’s request.

Everyone held their breath, based on past experiences, the City Lord was expected to explode in rage.

"May I know why?" Acto asked patiently.

"If I played, I would overshadow your skills completely," Su Ming’an said.

The banquet hall fell silent.

After a moment’s silence, Acto responded with unchanged grace, "It’s okay, I’d like to experience your music."

Su Ming’an no longer objected and stood up. He ascended the stage, all eyes fixed on his silhouette.

After pausing his fingers on the keys for a brief moment, Su Ming’an began to play. He needed Emotional Value.

He played his self-composed "Absence," a piece he had performed at Constantine University in the City of Measurement for the students, rich and melancholic in tone, yet carrying an air of freedom transcending the era. Between the connected notes, it was like the pristine and mellifluous moonlight or the spring breeze caressing the green grass.

Gradually, people began to notice the difference.

The piece Acto had just performed felt more like showing off technique, like a robot mechanically and rapidly pressing the keys. But Su Ming’an was different; his piano piece was filled with emotion, with thoughtful pauses and self-reflection in its intensity and pacing, more akin to flowing streams than arid channels.

The difference between the two was stark.

"..."

The audience immediately fell silent; even after Su Ming’an finished playing his piece, no one dared to applaud. The hall was deathly still as people warily looked toward Acto by the piano, worried that he would erupt in fury after being upstaged.

Acto too, was silent for a while.

After a moment, he spoke softly, "Indeed, you’re different from me..."

Su Ming’an stared at his face.

"Guess what I heard?" Acto said.

"I don’t guess," Su Ming’an replied.

"Suffering," Acto answered for himself, "Even in a melodious tune, I heard ample suffering... Suffering embedded into your life. This is something I can’t play."

Turning around, Acto looked at the silent men and women.

"By the way," Acto casually pointed to Su Ming’an, suddenly shocking everyone with his next words:

"This man here, is the one who led you all for over thirty years—Lord of Acto City—he established this City-State, extending human civilization time and again, saving all your lives. And I’m just an imposter usurping his nest. Now that he has returned—would anyone like to follow him?"

His voice, though not loud, was clear enough in the utterly silent room for everyone to hear.

Su Ming’an was momentarily taken aback.

He looked at the people; a few seemed visibly moved, wanting to support Su Ming’an.

"Right, there’s one more thing," Acto spoke again, "Currently, only I can access the resources of ’Ta Wei’; he cannot."

In an instant.

The flame in the eyes of these few people died out.

They opened their mouths but didn’t dare to acknowledge him.

For five long minutes, the banquet hall was shrouded in silence.

"..."

Su Ming’an’s hand rested on the piano, trembling slightly.

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