Editor: Junyans
The first thing Jakowski did after leaving the inquisition was to peel off his formal suit, as if it had been tainted with something dirty.
He felt nauseous, but couldn’t throw up.
He hurriedly made his way to a corner where a wine bottle was resting, swiftly unscrewed its lid, and took two sips, thinking to himself that the kid looked familiar. He abruptly halted his movements as he realized who it was.
It was Mr. Minkov’s son.
His head was blank for a few seconds, then he suddenly dashed to the bathroom and vomited hard.
He knew that what he had experienced in “Mount Olympus” was just a cerebral reaction. He actually hadn’t consumed anything in reality, but he still almost vomited his stomach out at that moment.
After retching for a long time, he left the bathroom and went to get half a bottle of whatever wine from the cabinet, but his hands shook so much that he couldn’t bring it near his mouth for a long time.
He remembered the first time he had seen Minkov Jr. At that time he had thought, this boy is crazy, I hope I won’t live long enough to see him in power.
When he saw him just now, he wondered if he was just another plaything of the bigwigs.
But he wasn’t. He was a disaster.
Information came through his headphones, stating that Xia Tian’s treatment would conclude within an hour. Even as he was asked to review the media briefing, Jakowski’s mind remained entangled with thoughts about Minkov Jr..
He never thought that investigating the matter of Yingkong Lake would be too difficult. Submerging an entire lake was no small feat, requiring top-notch technology and core codes—something achievable by only a few.
But the police investigation had been fruitless so far, so he always felt that some powerful person was responsible. Even if that person caused trouble, the group he belonged to would not let the outside world deal with that person.
They… Jakowski felt nauseous again, so he drank two sips of wine to suppress it. He had just vomited, and the liquor went into his stomach like a knife, making him feel a little better.
He redirected the monitor to the main screen.
Summer Flames—now renamed the Revolution Army Official Website, which was fucking bold—was madly talking about the third sub-arena. The website claimed that ever since the incident with An Xiaoyin, Xia Tian has thrown the entire event into chaos, rendering all plans of the planning team useless.
What they didn’t understand, Jakowski thought, was that the plans related to division of power in the arsenal, the Avengers, and airships… were not useless.
Xia Tian trampling all the plans underfoot was exactly what the plan had been for.
Jakowski started at the video of Xia Tian’s coronation again, as if addicted.
During replays after replays, he noticed Bai Jingan in the darkness behind Xia Tian.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
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The light of Xia Tian’s coronation reflected in his eyes, like the deadly reflection of gunfire. Jakowski was pretty sure that this guy was bloodier and angrier than all his fans could imagine. And even more sadder.
If Bai Jingan didn’t understand now, then when he woke up from the medical cabin, he would soon know what kind of bloody storm they had stirred up, and what kind of position they were standing in.
Then make a judgment.
Bai Jingan was watching the news.
Fans of the God of War were making a pilgrimage to the sunken Yingkong Lake, and several stations were broadcasting special related programs.
The sun graced both the Upper and Lower Cities, and Yingkong Lake was no longer a privilege confined to the affluent. As per the news reports, it belonged to all believers, and everyone should visit it to pay homage.
It was just that in the Upper City, sunshine and miracles were limited in supply and came at a steep price.
In the floating city, people who were inspired by this grand coronation and fall of Yingkong Lake felt that they had found their faith. These frenzied people took various means of transportation to make the pilgrimage to the “Holy Temple Sea.”
So now the hotels in the main city were fully booked, and traffic jams were a daily occurrence. The TV stations also publicized the traffic jam as a grand event, with fans practically taking over the city’s advertisements, creating a peak atmosphere of festivity.
Many people in the Lower City also rushed to the area, paddling their boats—mostly rafts made of door panels and miscellaneous objects—to watch the sun. The Upper City residents did not need to go to that length to see the sun, except that they also looked like they had come for it as well. Their expressions looked like they were mesmerized by something, and couldn’t think of anything else at all.
Under the sky, the sun shone on the surface of the water which was magnificent, wide, and stretching to the horizon.
Floating City kept talking about it as “the only light in the dark” and “the salvation that people have been waiting for all their life.” It also said that the ruins of Yingkong Lake was “the land of eternity.” However, this was no different from the previous fan activities. It was just that in the past it had been scattered, but this time it was very concentrated.
Xia Tian had been in the Upper City for less than a year, and the people from the Upper City seemed to have already known about his “tragic past,” the people he could never save, his decisions, and every second of his suffering… They acted like they knew everything, but in reality they didn’t know shit. They were fickle; they only chased after things they thought to be exciting. They were just a bunch of drug addicts who were used to proclaiming that everything was different and unique. What could such a bunch possibly know of “eternity”?
One day, the Upper City will seal this place up, Bai Jingan thought, when their enthusiasm starts to wane. Or when Xia Tian dies.
In the fourth round, the planning team had done many disgusting things for the sake of ratings, and the players had had no choice but to resist, but what this “God of Destiny” wanted was to make more money following their resistance.
In this place, all your anger, pain, and death will only turn into banknotes everywhere.
The news said that many people in the Lower City had decided to settle here—the water would always recede—and that Bai Lin’s hometown was once again crowded and bustling.
In the footage, the dark place that had been full of blood and tragedies that Bai Jingan could no longer remember became a sunny “Holy Temple Sea,” as if all the disasters in the past had never happened and the water and sunlight covered the wounds like a miracle.
He looked at the footage silently. The shimmering water shown in the holographic image did not reflect in his eyes. What was reflected was still that dark and bloody Lower City. There had been so much blood spilled there that no amount of water could wash it clean.
Bai Jingan looked for a while, felt terribly upset, and turned to look at Xia Tian.
Xia Tian was sitting cross-legged on the hospital bed, accessing the virtual screen, and Bai Jingan cut directly into his terminal.
Both of them had just come out of the treatment cabin—Eric and Wei Xi hadn’t finished their treatment yet. In the last round, they’d had to go out for an interview immediately, but now the people around them were respectful. When Bai Jingan had come out, he had asked for Xia Tian, and the doctor in charge had told him that Xia Tian’s treatment would be over in an hour, and that they would arrange the same ward for the two of them if he wanted.
At the moment, they were sitting in their room, swiping their mobile phones’ screen, and no one had come to press them. It seemed that they had really made this room a private place with his single word.
—Of course, this also had a lot to do with Huitian’s car stuck in the road.
Inside the immersive mode, Xia Tian was currently in the God of War Temple.
The colossal offering of Lake Yingkong has altered the temple’s landscape. Once a vast desert panorama, it had now transformed into a vast, sprawling expanse of water spreading toward an almost limitless horizon. However, it remained empty and desolate, as if originating from a distant time, transcending trends and clamor, eternally situated there.
Now, the setting sun was sinking in the west, casting its reflection upon the water, where golden light glinted. In contrast, what was at the bottom of the water was bones and corpses.
Xia Tian looked down at the corpses.
The seven men of Honey Pavilion were neatly arranged, with Angus on the right. Angus, who had been a highly sought-after target for the crowd, had been murdered the night after the game.
Xia Tian was looking at another dead body.
Bai Jingan transferred some of Xia Tian’s authority to see what he was currently viewing.
He found out that he knew this man. Xia Tian had mentioned him. He was from the Lower City.
—This man was Sen Lan, the son of the local chief executive of District N21, who had killed Xia Tian’s sister, killed his friends, and ruined everything for him, but talked about it as if it was just a game.
In his life profile, it was stated that Sen Lan looked merciless and cold, and had an insincere smile plastered on his face. According to Xia Tian, he acted like he always managed to see through the intricacies of the world and reveled in self-assurance and self-satisfaction.
In the previous thirty hours, Sen Lan had been subjected to a long and gruesome torture session. The torture was extremely detailed, purposive, and endless—with several medical treatments in between to make sure he made it through the torture
Now, Sen Lan’s body lay in the temple, the process of his abuse available to the smallest detail. In addition to him, there was his father next to him, and the bodies of the entire security team were also there, neatly arranged for the God of War to inspect.
Xia Tian reached out to turn off the video and looked at the pile of corpses in a complicated way.
He slowly spoke, “I never knew what I had done to provoke him.”
Bai Jingan turned his head to look at him.
“He always put on a fucking airs of ‘my noble thoughts are beyond the comprehension of a dull mind like yours,'” he continued, “and I always thought I had to ask before I killed him!”
He gave a laugh, mocking and a little crazy, and raised his hand to bring up a holographic screen.
It was a video of Sen Lan locked in a place that seemed to be a small prison. The man’s face was full of fear, and the torture had made him beyond recognition.
“I don’t know. I always talk as if I do, but—” Sen Lan pleaded with someone, the pain making his voice sharp and hoarse. “I… I had once been driving by Sunset Street and saw him talking to people and smiling happily. I had thought, ‘I… don’t like the way he smiles. No one should be smiling like that in this shithole!’ I then inquired about him, and people in the Lower City said that his name was Xia Tian. I didn’t like his name, it was too ridiculous… And I had nothing else to do, so I just—”
Xia Tian abruptly turned off the video.
“He went to see me in jail… every day for a week,” Xia Tian said through gritted teeth, “He always wore a smile that never reached his eyes. He kept saying that he wanted to make me suffer. He wanted me to beg, and said that I had to cry. Sometimes he even showed up there wearing formal attire after getting drunk at parties. It seemed that torturing me meant something great to him!”
He stared at the vast water. Bai Jingan pressed his hand on the other person’s wrist. Xia Tian was trembling all over.
“If his dad hadn’t wanted to transfer back to the Upper City and insisted on sending me to the Upper City, I wouldn’t have survived past the seventh day. He continued that smile, he…” Xia Tian paused, unable to say a word for a while.
“And now he says,” he continued “he just didn’t like the way I smile. It turned out that I had done fucking nothing wrong!”
Bai Jingan’s hand that was pressed against the other person’s hand tightened unconsciously, and he felt himself shaking a little.
He remembered the way Sen Lan had looked when he talked about Xia Tian. Even though his entire face had been bruised and battered, he had still been crazy and delirious… and had a madman-like obstinacy.
According to the sacrificial record, Sen Lan had also kept all the videos of him torturing Xia Tian, and took them out to enjoy when he had nothing to do… That was the reason why the sacrificer had tried all sorts of tricks to torture the guy.
Bai Jingan checked and found that he had not even skipped the part of the punishment chip.
Punishment chips were not something you could buy online. Also, there were also people who had operated on Sen Lan. To be able to do this, one had to have a lot of power.
This sacrificer must have watched all of Sen Lan’s videos, not letting go of even one frame. He must have studied them carefully before he could come up with such an extremely detailed and intense execution method—and he even went one step further, adding full personal creativity to the process.
With unimaginable stubbornness, he had determined that Sen Lan must suffer this pain.
At this moment, Bai Jingan suddenly found that this video was only open to Xia Tian, which meant that only the “God of War” could watch it… Bai Jingan felt a chill down his spine. He immediately went to check his privacy permissions to make sure that no one was watching them.
No, it was just presented to Xia Tian. But the chill still lingered.
Although this was a “sacrificer,” Bai Jingan could feel that the other person was somewhat similar to Sen Lan in the way they both concentrated on torture and torment.
They both suffered from extreme emptiness, which resulted in terrifying obsessiveness.
Bai Jingan cut off the virtual view, and they were back in the middle of the scenic temple.
It was empty and sprawling, with the statue of the God of War standing on the water, and moss and low aquatic plants growing around its feet. At first glance, the place looked full of life. But when you looked down, you would see a dense accumulation of bones piled up at the statue’s feet, so deep that one couldn’t see to the bottom.
At this moment, countless believers were online, looking at the cluster of underwater corpses. In the virtual view, the sacrifices keep repeating the process of their death and decay, like souls who had offended the gods and fallen into hell to be tortured.
No matter how many theories of God-making marketing he heard, Bai Jingan always thought that these people were crazy.
They were simply infected by delusion and blind fanaticism.
