Chapter 106

106

The person before him occupied that ambiguous space between youth and young adulthood. He might have been of age.

But Lu Yan called him "kid" because of those overly clear eyes.

They held the kind of innocence you see in a tame, well-trained animal—a guileless transparency.

This new generation raised within the Divine Kingdom knew only school and work. Their studies consisted of the doctrines of the Blissful Sect and how to serve the Divine Race.

The Attendants praised the Holy God each day, giving thanks for the Lords' blessings; their thoughts were as simple as a clean, blank sheet of paper.

Song Jingchen stared at Lu Yan's face, his words coming out foolishly earnest. "You're pretty."

Lu Yan couldn't help but laugh.

His smile was dangerously captivating, so much so that Song Jingchen's heart seemed to heed some silent call, swiftly swearing allegiance.

The system roared. [Host! He's barely an adult, still a child! If you have urges, direct them at me!]

Lu Yan wasn't in the mood to humor it.

In truth, he was testing a new talent on this little lamb before him.

[Talent 14 - Mental Remolding].

Lu Yan had always been curious about how psychic-type talents manifested concretely. Now, he seemed to have an answer.

He found himself in a computer lab.

A pink brain lay quietly at the room's center, numerous wires tethered to it, converging into a single USB port connected to the laptop before Lu Yan.

The system's voice sounded. [Just as I manifest as a system, this talent, Mental Remolding, takes a form you can comprehend.]

Unlike usual, the system's voice didn't echo in his mind but seemed to come from the external world, like a reverberation in an empty valley.

On the screen labeled "Song Jingchen," numerous folders were arranged, along with a keyboard and a search bar at the top.

[What's on the desktop represents what this brain's owner considers most important. Anything else you want to know, you can search for.]

[The hard drive corresponds to the body's instincts. Hunger, pain, sleepiness. Those can be modified too.]

These files collectively constituted the personality known as "Song Jingchen."

To test the new function, Lu Yan casually typed "Advanced Mathematics" into the search bar. The brain, unsurprisingly, was a complete blank.

[Time flows differently in the consciousness space. Roughly one second outside equals ten years in here.]

Lu Yan skimmed through the sparse highlights of Song Jingchen's life, mostly text descriptions.

The deeply etched memories were first-person video files.

He opened the first video.

It was from Song Jingchen's childhood. Short hands clutched a spoon.

In the distance, a man's authoritative voice rang out.

"Before we eat, we praise the God's bounty. We thank the Lords of the Divine Race for allowing our lives to continue."

"Now, repeat after me."

A chorus of childish voices followed. "Praise the Holy God, for bliss and eternal life."

The view dropped to the plate before him—a mound of red paste. Even through the video, Lu Yan caught a faint whiff of something metallic, coppery.

True to form, Song Jingchen had been a rebellious child. He raised his hand, his voice milky and young. "Inspector, sir, is there anything else to eat? I don't like this. It's all we ever have."

His question sent the inspector into a rage.

The middle-aged man strode forward and brought his disciplinary cane down hard.

—"Our food is a blessing from the Lords of the Divine Race! Instead of gratitude, you demand more. You defy the tenets of the Blissful Sect! I am deeply disappointed in you."

Blinding pain. Song Jingchen crumpled to the floor, a fiery welt rising on his skin.

The inspector's face was cold. "Get out! You are forbidden from the cafeteria for the next week."

In school, the inspector's word was law.

The other Attendants kept their heads down, eating mechanically. No one seemed to find anything amiss.

That a human raised in such an environment hadn't broken was perhaps the strongest proof of innate goodness.

The cafeteria doors remained shut to him.

By the fifth day, the hunger was unbearable. Desperate, Song Jingchen squeezed through a gap in the wall and found himself near the processing plant adjacent to the school.

In the Divine Kingdom, all Attendant sustenance came from centralized processing plants.

But Song Jingchen had been born at the school. The outside world was unknown to him.

Small and slight, he moved through unkempt shrubs, nearly invisible.

He was just looking for food. But malnutrition had left him frail. He'd barely slipped inside the factory grounds before collapsing at the roadside.

A member of the Divine Race found him.

He opened his eyes to a terrifying face.

Most of the Divine Race Lords were highly aberrant, having shed human features. This one had a fly-like head and a sharp, syringe-like proboscis.

This was a "Divine Race" member of the Divine Kingdom—a pollutant with a particular mutation vector.

Song Jingchen's face paled. His body trembled uncontrollably as he knelt at its feet. "Forgive me, Lord… I… I was just so hungry. I wanted… wanted to find something to eat."

A rasping laugh grated from the pollutant's throat. "Is that so? Perfect. Guard duty here is dreadfully dull. Care for a tour?"

Song Jingchen shook his head instinctively, but the pollutant offered no choice.

This pollutant wasn't a perfect evolution specimen, but the Holy God's influence had preserved some of its cognitive faculties.

The reek of blood hit them long before they reached the building—a thick, warm, metallic stench. Flies buzzed in clouds.

The pollutant cradled the human child, even careful not to let its overlong claws pierce the boy's skin.

It pointed to the workshop ahead. "Primary processing."

Song Jingchen, curious, peeked.

Pale, unconscious figures lay on a conveyor belt. The far wall was studded with dark, gaping maws—industrial grinders.

[Their souls have already departed for the 'Blissful Pure Land.' Brain dead, in other words. Unattended, they'd die naturally in a few days anyway.]

They looked terribly young.

The pollutant emitted a gleeful, gurgling sound. "Know what these are? Failures from your school. Utterly worthless. You'd better study hard. Otherwise, this is your future after you turn eighteen."

Every Attendant, upon reaching adulthood, underwent a Selection on a fixed annual graduation day.

The top students went to the upper Divine Kingdom. Some became prey; others, after training, returned to the lower levels as inspectors or teachers.

The middling students were kept for breeding, producing the next generation of Attendants. Infants were branded with barcodes like merchandise and sent to the schools.

The failures were a waste of rations, unneeded for labor. They died in their sleep. The processing plants then rendered them into preserved foodstuff, consumed by both the Divine Race and the Attendants.

For convenience, the plants were always built near the schools.

Ninety-nine such schools existed in the Divine Kingdom's lower strata.

Song Jingchen didn't yet understand those dark maws held spinning blades, but the scene was grotesque enough.

Especially the Attendants on the belt. He couldn't see how they differed from himself.

His voice shook. "Are they… asleep, Lord?"

The pollutant didn't answer, carrying him forward.

Globs of meat patties dropped from pipes onto another channel.

"Secondary processing."

Other pollutants lined this channel's sides.

They picked out larger bone fragments, sorting through the meat like butchers handling pork, adding strange substances.

The pollutant explained, "Attendants are troublesome. Meat alone leads to malnutrition. Must add other vitamins. We Lords of the Divine Race worry ourselves sick for your well-being."

"Finished product packaging."

The final room housed Attendant workers.

The processed nutrient paste was a homogeneous sludge, its origins unrecognizable.

The workers, cogs in the machine, expressionlessly scooped the paste into barrels, sealed them, and waited for the school cafeteria trucks.

Upon seeing the pollutant, all bowed their heads in fearful deference. "Lord."

The pollutant ignored them. It dipped a finger into a vat of paste and brought it to Song Jingchen's lips. "A taste?"

The overwhelming stench of blood assaulted his senses.

Song Jingchen retched.

Vomit splattered the pollutant's arm. It frowned in displeasure. "Inferior species. Can't even handle this? You've eaten it all your life."

With all his strength, Song Jingchen shoved the pollutant's hand away, struggling free and leaping down, desperate to flee.

But in the confined space, there was nowhere to run.

Cornered, he trembled violently.

The pollutant seemed surprised, then amused. "A promising Attendant. To awaken in such a short time."

It seized Song Jingchen by the head.

The pollutant’s gaze fell on the barcode tattooed on the back of his neck. Back in school, the teachers had said this was the mark of a devout believer. Only heretics lacked such a code.

[This is the Holy God’s consciousness brand. It allows the Holy God to descend into a believer at any time.]

The pollutant spoke. "I’ve memorized your code. I look forward to seeing you again at your coming-of-age ceremony in twelve years. It’s been a long time since I’ve encountered such a… fresh Vassal."

With that, a plume of gray-black smoke hissed from its long, syringe-like proboscis.

Song Jingchen collapsed, unconscious.

The video ended there.

The system’s voice echoed. [Under hypnosis, Song Jingchen actually forgot this memory. But the brain still preserved it for him.]

It was just one snapshot among countless humans raised in pens within the Divine Kingdom.

Lu Yan clicked open the next video file. It showed Song Jingchen talking with a "heretic."

The heretic was burning with fever. Song Jingchen had carefully brought water.

The aged Awakened one cracked open his eyes, delirious, his words a feverish ramble. "I have grown old… Even fighting to my last breath, my blood no longer runs hot. You… you are the hope. Remember… remember to open your eyes. To see the real world."

Song Jingchen’s voice was lost. "What is the real world?"

The Awakened one gave no answer.

Lu Yan’s expression darkened. A weight pressed on his chest, making it hard to breathe.

He opened the document file labeled ‘Song Jingchen’s Memories’ and began editing.

He wanted to delete every part of the boy’s mind related to "faith."

The greatest tragedy of these penned-up Vassals was living inside a vast, faith-based lie.

But after making the changes, when Lu Yan went to save the file, an error message popped up: System Error.

The system explained. [Faith constitutes their deepest memories, occupying the vast majority of their mental landscape. Given the current structure of a Vassal’s consciousness, completely erasing faith is… difficult.]

After all, abandoning their faith meant negating most of their lived experience.

The narrower a person’s worldview, the more stubborn they became. And they had never received a real education.

Lu Yan thought for a moment. With a few keystrokes, he replaced every instance of "the Holy God" with "Lu Yan." He even inserted several high-resolution headshots of himself as supplementary devotional material.

This time, the computer didn’t throw an error.

[The Holy God of the Blissful Creed is not compatible with you. Song Jingchen will soon begin to doubt his faith, leading to cognitive dissonance and confusion. I advise you to change the name of the church as well.]

After a moment’s thought, Lu Yan performed a global replace, changing "Blissful Creed" to "Sea God Cult."

Changjia was an island nation, surrounded by ocean. Worshiping the sea was logical. It wouldn’t clash with Song Jingchen’s basic understanding of the world.

This way, Song Jingchen still had a faith. He just worshipped the Sea God Cult instead of the Blissful Creed.

"Once we get them out," Lu Yan muttered, "we can give these Vassals a crash course in materialism. For now, this will have to do."

At least worshipping him meant they wouldn’t be dragged off to some "Blissful Pure Land" by the Holy God after death.

Though Lu Yan had spent what felt like ages in the consciousness space, only a fraction of a second had passed in reality.

Song Jingchen met Lu Yan’s gaze. His whole body shuddered. The next instant, he dropped to his knees beside him, his face a mask of utter devotion. "My Lord."

Having lived this long, it was Lu Yan’s first time being addressed with such solemn reverence. He found it profoundly awkward.

He grabbed the back of Song Jingchen’s collar and hauled him upright. "Don’t kneel. We Sea God followers don’t do that."

Song Jingchen’s thoughts were still tangled, but his brain was already working to fill in the gaps, weaving the new narrative into the fabric of his being.

He clutched at Lu Yan’s leg, tears welling in his eyes. "You’ve finally returned to the mortal world. I knew you wouldn’t abandon your believers. My Lord… in three days, I have to attend the coming-of-age ceremony. I don’t want to leave you. Please, take me with you."

Yes. Even without a shred of conscious memory.

Song Jingchen still feared the so-called "coming-of-age ceremony" on a primal, instinctual level.

His subconscious was screaming for survival.

Lu Yan couldn’t help but comment to the system. "This mission seems… somewhat time-sensitive?"

[It is. I recommend you first make contact with the few remaining Old Humans on this island. They have a small survivor base.]