Chapter 324 Truth

Since the 20th century, Xiang City has been one of the world’s most prosperous cities, adjacent to a harbor, with roads radiating in all directions, and a myriad of goods arrive here by train and ship before being shipped worldwide; peoples of all skin tones gather here, traveling for tourism or commerce.

To serve the economy, policies here are especially lax, accompanied by multidimensional freedoms of speech, culture, and even religion.

Even the Balance Church, a group officially declared a cult by the Federation, has a foothold here and eventually became a tiger threat, seizing the city with lightning speed.

White Crow sat in the bright, spotless office, cradling the Divine Mask retrieved from Jerusalem, while a Bronze Sword presented by the head of the Gulan Autonomous Region’s “Red of Truth” faction lay on the desk.

These two items have been confirmed to be linked to the Eerie Game, inexplicably buried in reality like a grand scheme set up years ago, only activating as the main actors step onto the stage, allowing clues to surface.

White Crow still remembers the last time she saw the God twenty‑two years ago, a divine oracle that spurred the church’s twenty‑two‑year bitter pursuit.

It once sent them to find a child, but for unknown reasons changed its mind; fate was gently nudged, and she went to the orphanage the oracle pointed to, finding nothing.

Later she heard a church outpost had sparked a forest fire; she rushed over, seeing the blaze was tied to the Eerie Game. Unfortunately all traces were destroyed by the fire, leaving her empty‑handed.

The divine oracle and prophecy that fell before the God vanished resembled a bizarre mass hysteria; everyone believed it true yet could find no evidence, only scratching their heads beyond the barrier in collective madness.

Until recently, Zou Yan recovered the God’s name from the Rose Manor instance, proving the church’s twenty‑two‑year chase was not the dance of madmen.

But by then, White Crow no longer blindly worshipped the God; she preferred to analyze it rationally and study how to reap greater benefits.

The disappearance of the God’s name over twenty‑two years was not accidental loss but erasure by a higher existence.

The God’s own silence was also a banishment beyond the world, as if it had never existed.

The re‑emergence of the God’s name has nothing to do with the Balance Church’s pursuit; it simply returned at a certain node, moving from the void of erasure back into the Eerie Game.

That node was the Rose Manor instance.

White Crow knew that day Jiangcheng experienced an unexpected rain beyond the meteorological bureau’s forecast; the damp air spread across the world, coating all life under the rain in a gloomy hue.

It was like a welcome Ritual for the returnees, or the opening movement of a Grand Performance; a man named Qi Si entered the Eerie Game.

First, big‑data filtered everyone who entered the game that day and survived; then age and other traits excluded many, leaving only a few candidates for tracking and observation.

Combined with supplemental info—such as ties to Contract authority and the ability to escape the Puppeteer’s skill… the answer became obvious.

She should have known all this, but hearing a sudden divine oracle in the Gulan Autonomous Region frightened her, making her think every move was under the God’s watchful eye.

In hindsight, she still underestimated humanity’s strength and overestimated divine power.

How much power could a God exiled for twenty‑two years retain after just returning to its throne?

Seeing Qi Si in the Colosseum confirmed the youth’s identity, dispelling all fear and unease since returning from Gulun, because she had once witnessed the God’s true face.

The youth seemed to remember nothing; his authority was sealed by a simple Identity Card, making him appear innocent, yet his words and actions concealed lethal intent, feeling dangerous.

White Crow did not act rashly; she hid behind a mask, sending Nian Fu to approach cautiously, learning Qi Si’s details through Nian Fu’s perspective.

It turned out even Gods have moments of weakness, are not all‑knowing, and can… die.

White Crow had to admit that while she hoped the God would send miracles to inspire followers, for the now‑stable Balance Church, a dead God was the best outcome.

But the God did not truly die; it miraculously survived, its persona elevated and becoming even more dangerous.

Fortunately, she watched coldly from start to finish, never involving herself, allowing her to leave alive under the God’s gaze.

She gained nothing: she did not soak the Bronze Sword in divine blood, nor activate the Divine Mask, nor even converse with the God.

“Nian Fu, come to my office.”

In the simple, small room with only a vase on the bedside table, Nian Fu heard White Crow’s command.

Until she left the Colosseum instance, she never received the promised Identity Card; perhaps the qualification to enter the Final Dungeon was destiny’s choice, and she was never scripted into the final stage.

She had no grand ambition, only wanted to be closer to White Crow at the end, even if just to shield her from a lethal attack or to huddle for warmth at death’s door, so she wouldn’t face the ending alone… On the way to White Crow’s office, Nian Fu’s peripheral vision caught Dong Xiwen peeking around.

The two had met in the Colosseum instance, unaware of each other’s identities, as the Balance Church has too many members.

Probably only when White Crow revealed her true form at the instance’s climax did Dong Xiwen realize there were other “insiders” in the instance—who wouldn’t recognize White Crow?

“Are you going to find White… President?”

“What’s your relationship with Qi Si?”

Both questions were asked together, and Nian Fu gave an affirmative answer.

Dong Xiwen’s gaze flickered: “Me and him… probably like a worker who slipped into a bad Contract and a ruthless boss.”

Nian Fu said no more, passed him, and continued onward. Whatever the case, White Crow’s summons mattered more.

At the hallway’s end, Nian Fu knocked on the office door and sat on the chair by the desk.

White Crow smiled and asked, “Is Dong Xiwen still alive?”

Nian Fu nodded, “He’s alive. I just saw him coming in; he looked sneaky.”

“Good,” White Crow said, “The God hasn’t abandoned him for his wavering faith, perhaps because there are too few pieces left to play.”

Nian Fu was surprised by White Crow’s disrespect; beyond that she felt nothing else. She joined the Balance Church not out of faith in the God, but simply because White Crow was there.

Then White Crow asked, “Nian Fu, why did you join the Balance Church?”

Without hesitation, Nian Fu replied, “My sister took me out of that orphanage; that day I decided I’d go wherever she goes.”

She paused, adding, “Many of us were saved by you; we stayed because of you.”

To repay the debt, not for the God.

“I see.” White Crow smiled, a bright, gentle smile like early‑spring sunshine.

She said, “Nian Fu, can you do me a favor?”

…Qi Si emerged from the Rose Manor instance, bought a mask to wear so players wouldn’t swarm him the moment he showed his face.

He walked toward the edge of the player square while sorting the information the Contract told him in his mind.

First, his entry into the Eerie Game was indeed part of the Contract’s layout.

He wasn’t originally selected by the Eerie Game’s plan; the Contract and the Puppeteer made a deal, having the Puppeteer control Liu Ajiu’s death in his studio to grant him game eligibility.

“The Hopeless Sea” instance, Qi Si and the Puppeteer played the final gamble, betting his life, and Qi Si cheated to win the Puppeteer. Consequently, the Puppeteer entered “Frog Hospital”, helping to fend off the aftershocks of the divine war while delivering a message.

Most of the information Qi Si could infer on his own; only a few points remained unknown, and after experiencing so much, hearing it again no longer seemed surprising.

After Qi Si finished speaking, Qi Si asked, “So the Puppeteer wants to cooperate with me—that’s also your intention?”

“Not exactly,” Qi Si replied, “but I am indeed about to be eliminated, and the next game will be between you and him.”

Everything was left unsaid.

Qi Si then casually brought up the special wristband and the phone, even though he already had some guesses about why those two items could be brought into the game.

Qi Si smiled and confirmed his speculation: “Objects tainted with divine blood can traverse between the Eerie Game and reality.”

Qi Si said, “I don’t recall ever killing a god.”

As he spoke, scenes flashed before his eyes: a period when he was plagued by a bizarre sense of detachment, constantly doubting whether his body and consciousness were separate, leading him to almost experimentally slice himself with a blade.

Only when he felt the pain of the cut, saw fresh red blood flow from the wound, and experienced those sensations simultaneously could he sense a faint harmony between spirit and flesh, confirming his belonging to this world.

He guessed the special wristband had been soaked in his blood back then; as for the phone… Qi Si remembered that not long ago he had taken a paper cutter bought from the Eerie Game and stabbed his left forearm, and a few drops apparently splashed onto the phone screen.

His expression grew odd: “You’re not trying to say…”

“Exactly,” Qi’s voice was delighted, the kind of tone that makes a secret sound startling, “so much time has passed and you still didn’t guess at all?”

“Qi Si, or rather Si Qi, you are a god… you are me, I am you…”

A thunderclap exploded outside the castle, steam burst like a gas bomb, and a torrential rain poured down.

Qi Si stood up, then heard Qi’s brazen cackle, using his own voice, even the pitch identical, as if only he was going mad in this space, his own ghost turning into a malevolent grin.

Instinctively he reached for Qi in front of him, but his fingers passed through the illusion; it was merely a projection, a hallucination, a mirrored image of himself across time and space… “‘Qi’ is my name, because I oversee the Contract authority; they also call me ‘Si Qi’, mistakenly thinking it’s a title…” Qi’s face was stark white under a sudden lightning flash; from that angle and lighting, Qi saw his own face on Qi’s visage.

It was like walking along a riverbank, suddenly looking down and seeing his own floating corpse in shock.

“I remember this. In the ‘Hopeless Sea’ instance, you introduced yourself exactly like that,” Qi Si said, “I originally thought you were just using my alias on a whim.”

“Yes, I told you the answer back in the earliest days…” Qi’s long hair fell, his smile gentle, his words torn apart by wind and rain, “Now you are also ‘Si Qi’, you chose to become Si Qi… don’t make that expression, I’m not mocking you, because I once made the same choice myself…”

Qi Si kept his composure and asked, “What exactly are you trying to say? Do you have any evidence to prove what you’re saying?”

Qi gave no answer; the castle roared and shattered, massive stone bricks fell from above, missing his form and crashing to the ground.

Qi Si retreated, using the Cursed Pendulum to block all the debris, stepping back to the flower sea outside the castle, into the endless rain, crushing a carpet of rose petals, while ghosts, malevolent spirits, and invisible shadows were linked by the rain.

Soaking wet and looking utterly disheveled, he halted, turned back, and saw only a shadowy ruin.

It resembled the burial ground of Chang Xu and Lin Chen at the end of the “Rose Manor” instance.

Everything was buried beneath, including sound and image.

Qi Si suddenly felt an illusion that he had never left this place, that a version of himself was buried in the ruins, becoming a dry bone, while the lingering soul stood atop the debris.

His future was locked; he was Qi’s past, Qi was his future, he was destined to become Qi, because it was his choice, and also Qi’s past choice… Amid the clamor of rain, Qi’s words continued, and he learned the forgotten history of the Ruins of the Sunset.

The Golden World Tree embodied the rule, and beneath it the first beings born were gods.

They wielded the authority derived from the rule, executing its will throughout the ages.

The rule later gave rise to sunrise and sunset, the four seasons, birth and death; it birthed all things, including humanity, which prides itself as the pinnacle of all life.

Human wisdom and desire exceeded the rule’s original scope, becoming a burden on that billion‑year‑unchanging mechanism.

If the rule wishes to avoid collapse under the shock of thought currents, it must recycle massive sin to keep operating.

The brewing of sin always requires blood and destruction as sacrifice; the World Tree became drenched in gore, gradually weathered into a chaotic blackness.

It went mad, it was starving, yearning to devour something.

It stretched its vines toward nearby beings as serving gods.

And the gods cast their gaze upon humanity.

Thus the Eerie Game was established, and beings from all planes became food for the rule.

The gods, unwilling to be bound by the ever‑crazier rule, especially those at the pinnacle, constantly faced the fate of being devoured.

They conspired in temples to rebel, hoping to use humanity’s power to shatter the rule’s shackles, eventually putting the plan into action.

Twenty‑two years ago that attempt failed; the mastermind was exiled to the Land Without Gods, the accomplices sealed in various world planes, and only Li, excluded from the gods’ plot, was left by the rule… Qi Si could summon every detail from memory, yet he had no impression of these scenes, as if watching someone else’s story, a movie or a book synopsis injected into his mind.

Who exactly is he? Who should he be?

Qi Si recalled the ending of the “Colosseum” instance, where Qin Mu’s mask fell, revealing White Crow’s face. The woman’s eyes swirled with strange emotions—reverence for the gods and deeper ambition.

The Balance Church is a hidden piece Qi placed in reality, rooted for decades, perhaps holding more information; but the Balance Church is not safe for him, and twenty‑two years have changed much.

Qi Si didn’t intend to trust Qi’s words lightly, yet after learning the new information he changed his mind, planning to keep Dong Xiwen a while longer, at least using her as a foothold to gather more knowledge about the Balance Church.

A mad laugh echoed from the depths of his mind, saying, “Fate has been written, the ending is set, there are no more variables, you are trapped to death…”

He saw a golden river looping like a Möbius strip, a banquet amidst a sea of fire, and Qi, seated on the divine throne, half‑body turned to bone… Even if it’s written, what does that matter?

“Killing the being that writes destiny is the answer.”

Qi Si stood on the sheer cliff of the Ruins of the Sunset, gazing down at the tightly packed stone tombs.

He suddenly leapt down, landing steadily on the broken walls, then walked slowly over the uneven ruins, stopping before a temple half‑collapsed.

A bronze gate stood mute among the rubble, futilely blocking the structures behind it.

Qi placed his hand on the gate, and a low murmur instantly rose to his ears: “Your authority and soul are incomplete; you cannot open this door.”

At the same time, two lines of silver‑white text refreshed on the system interface.

【Hidden Task in the Ruins of the Sunset Updated】

【Hidden Task: Open the Abandoned Temple】