Chapter 112

112

On the map, another green light blinked out.

The System's tone was flat. [White Wolf is dead.]

The desire to not become a pollutant had won out over White Wolf’s instinct to survive.

[For a high-level Awakened like him, turning into a pollutant would be a disaster for humanity, true. But I still think becoming a pollutant is better than dying. Faith… it’s something I find hard to comprehend.]

Lu Yan thought for a moment. "It's different. For many people, living without consciousness, driven only by animal instinct, is harder to accept than death."

Because of this incident, the mood when they regrouped was especially heavy.

Lu Yan found White Wolf's body—a massive wolf form, most of it already covered in silver-white fur. A short blade was buried in his chest, piercing the heart.

He lay on the ground, staring up at the sky, eyes wide open as if trying to sear that final moment into his memory.

Beside him, a pollutant torn in two had sprouted root-like tendrils from the severed flesh. They writhed ceaselessly, trying to stitch the halves back together.

Lu Yan finished it with two precise strikes of hellfire. The pollutant's remains charred black, as if scorched by flame.

Tiger stripped off his Special Operations Department uniform—a decades-old model, white back then—and draped it over White Wolf's body. He held it together for a moment, then turned away, crouching with his face in his hands as a raw, ragged sob tore from his throat.

The sound carried far.

In the distance, some bewildered Chosen peeked out, their expressions like frightened animals. They had no idea a stranger had died in a foreign land, forever, trying to save them.

Ning Huai's hand trembled slightly around his cigarette. He took a deep drag, his eyes rimmed red. "We'll handle the rest when we get back. No time now."

This operation only had two outcomes: success, or death.

Unlike other contaminated zones Lu Yan had seen, the closer they got to the Divine Kingdom's center, the more resplendent and majestic the surroundings became. No scent of blood hung in the air. It felt less like storming the enemy's stronghold and more like attending some grand evening banquet.

[The Holy God's original body,] the System narrated, [back when he was young, got into multi-level marketing. Did a few years in jail, honed his silver tongue. In the early days of founding the Blissful Church, he was still an Awakened, not a pollutant. He genuinely believed he could become a god of a new world.]

[Pity he never figured out one thing. It was his brain that became the pollutant, not his body. After deciding his original vessel was useless, the Holy God abandoned it. Chose a more suitable container, let the Blissful Church flourish on Changjia… until it seeped into the fabric of most people's lives here…]

Both Tiger and Ning Huai could move at speeds far surpassing any vehicle. With only two legs, Lu Yan received special consideration—the kind reserved for the mobility-impaired—and was carried on the giant tiger's back.

The central Divine Court was shrouded in a thick, milky fog. The architecture here was solemn and austere, reminiscent of ancient Roman temples.

Above the main gate, within an ornate, vaulted ceiling, a marble-carved brain sat enshrined at the center, surrounded by lesser carvings like stars around a moon.

Twelve white pillars flanked the space, each embedded with twisted human figures—men and women, their expressions ranging from agony to despair, all staring blankly at the sky.

[The Holy God commemorating the vessels he's used.]

They were close now. Very close to the Holy God's true form.

Lu Yan could even hear a faint, rhythmic breathing within the white mist, like some slumbering beast.

[The Holy God's true form is fragile. Mental-type pollutants are rarely strong in direct combat. That's why it relies on the temple's guardians to maintain its rule. It rarely shows its real face.]

Ning Huai paused before the massive doors. "Wait. It's too quiet here. I'll send a fission body in to scout."

Lu Yan had the privilege of witnessing the talent "Fission" in action.

A bloody line split open across Ning Huai's back, widening into a gaping fissure. A pair of slender hands emerged from within, struggling to squeeze out in a grotesquely contorted shape.

Ning Huai #2 was coated in amniotic fluid-like mucus, his body shriveled like a desiccated mummy. But as he absorbed the fluid, his form plumped out, becoming an exact copy of the original Ning Huai. Spiritual power threshold: 8400. Initial aberration level: 0.

He had deep purple eyes and the same spider-like lower body, but his gaze was vacant, like a puppet on strings. His vision was shared with the main body, his movements entirely controlled. But he did not share the aberration level.

All in all, an exceptionally useful tool.

Creating a fission body of this caliber in such a short time was Ning Huai's limit. The next one wouldn't reach such a high spiritual power threshold.

The fission body followed Ning Huai's command and stepped into the Divine Kingdom's core.

It wasn't what they'd imagined. It was a city block.

No one lived here, but everything was preserved as if frozen the moment disaster struck. Cars sat under a layer of dust, their headlights still faintly glowing. In the passenger seats, long-desiccated corpses clutched phones.

On the street, a young woman held a parasol, expensive jewelry dangling from her wrist. The leash in her hand was empty, only a collar lying on the ground.

Shop windows were shattered. A looter, face twisted in a snarl, gripped a handful of gold chains, his body frozen mid-sprint.

This was the instant the catastrophe hit.

The white mist spreading from the Divine Court had frozen it all. The world had slammed on the brakes. This block had remained untouched for decades. Street lamps, unrepaired, cast a dim, failing light.

The fission body gently touched one of the desiccated figures. It collapsed instantly, crumbling into dust.

"Not pollutants," the fission body muttered to itself.

Its mind was shared with Ning Huai. It was Ning Huai.

Within the fog, monstrous outlines loomed.

A colossal octopus clung to the top of a skyscraper, its shadow blotting out half the sky, tentacles swaying. It looked like a warning, and a welcome.

The fission body's aberration level crept upward in the white mist.

Passing a narrow alley, a sudden, ferocious bark erupted beside it.

A pitch-black, three-headed hound lunged, jaws snapping wide. Shreds of crimson meat were wedged between its bloody fangs. The pollutant stood three meters tall, a stench of rot swirling around it.

The fission body ducked, avoiding the slashing claws, and pivoted, driving a long, spear-like limb deep into the hound's torso.

Ning Huai's spider legs could span seven meters fully extended.

The limb pierced the hound's abdomen like a blade, slicing it clean in two.

The three-headed beast crashed down. No blood spilled—only pale brain matter oozed out, pooling on the ground.

The street was long. As he entered the next zone, a wave of warmth washed over Ning Huai. His mind blurred for a second.

The next moment, he stood at a bustling intersection.

On the giant LED screen of a nearby mall, an advertisement played featuring his favorite actress from decades past. That ad had been off the air for years.

Ning Huai looked down. The aberrations on his body were gone. He even carried a briefcase.

Sunlight warmed his skin. The crosswalk signal turned green. A stream of smiling people flowed past him.

It was indistinguishable from the world of his first thirty-odd years of life.

Ning Huai opened the briefcase. Inside was a student's thesis draft.

Before becoming an Awakened, he’d been a doctoral advisor and full professor in the physics department at S University.

The phone in his suit jacket pocket rang.

He answered. The familiar-yet-strange voice of the dean of the physics college came through. "Professor Ning! The award ceremony is at nine in the main hall. I know you just got back and must be tired, but you can't be late for this! You're the first from our country in decades to win the Bohr International Gold Medal."

The Bohr International Gold Medal was awarded every three years to engineers and physicists who made outstanding contributions to the peaceful use of atomic energy. One of the most prestigious prizes in the field.

Yes. Ning Huai's specialization had been nuclear physics.

He answered automatically, "On my way. Car's out of gas—taking the bus. Forgot to fill up yesterday."

This wasn't S City. S University couldn't possibly be here. Yet Ning Huai found himself walking through the university gates, briefcase in hand.

Students brimmed with youthful energy. Street vendors sold breakfast and fruit. Even gyms had students handing out flyers.

Early-rising undergraduates pedaled past on bikes, racing toward the library.

Aspiring research grunts from the biochemistry college, clad in white lab coats, moved in packs toward the laboratories.

Everything was vibrant, teeming with life. Against his will, a smile touched Ning Huai's lips.

This was what Ning Huai—what so many Awakened who joined the Special Operations Department—wanted to protect.

An ordered human society. And the brilliant legacy of civilization, crystallized over countless years by fleeting, mortal souls.

The great hall lay ahead, a red carpet unfurled before its doors, flanked by baskets of fresh flowers. Above the entrance, a crimson banner proclaimed: Congratulations to Professor Ning Huai of the School of Physics for Winning the "Bohr International Gold Medal"!

At the doorway, the director waved enthusiastically. "Ning Huai! You're here! Come in, the reporters are waiting inside."

Colleagues he knew stood nearby, their faces lit with genuine, radiant smiles, sharing in his achievement.

And there, Ning Huai saw his parents—gone for many years. An ordinary working-class couple, they now wore small red badges, their expressions a mix of pride and shy awkwardness.

"Over here, Ning Huai!" the director called from several meters away. "Everyone's waiting! The stage is set. Let's get a picture with the medal!"

But Ning Huai simply stopped, his gaze turning wistful.

He had indeed won the Bohr International Gold Medal. He was thirty-three that year. The next, he Awakened.

If this had been the real Ning Huai, and not the fission body, he might have lost his way in this moment.

The real Ning Huai still stood at the entrance to the central Divine Court. His eyes remained clear and resolute, yet they reddened at the sight of his parents. "Mental-type pollutants are truly terrifying," he murmured. "Even though I keep reminding myself this is an illusion, everything around me keeps pulling me deeper into the past..."

Thanks to the side effect of his forgetfulness, Ning Huai's aberration degree actually rose much slower than most.

The most painful memories, he forgot quickly. It was the trivial details that stuck—a stranger passed on the street over a decade ago, remembered with perfect clarity.

He had tried to recall his parents during long, lonely nights. They were a loving couple. But his mind always conjured only two blank faces.

If not for this place, he might never have remembered what his father and mother actually looked like.

The fission body remained motionless. The director's urging grew more insistent. "Ning Huai, come on!"

The fission body took a deep breath. In the next instant, segmented limbs sprouted from its lower half. A single, fluid slash opened the director's throat.

Blood sprayed. The director's face contorted with disbelief as he collapsed into the spreading pool.

His parents approached, voices sharp with accusation. "What's wrong with you? Made something of yourself and now you don't even recognize your own parents?"

An old professor who had taught him pointed a trembling, cane-supported finger. "Ning Huai, you—you, how could you kill someone? Have you gone mad?!"

His former students watched, faces pale with horror. "Professor Ning, what's happened to you?!"

Ning Huai killed them all. His bladed limbs moved across the floor, dragging thin lines through the sticky plasma.

Silence descended.

Even knowing it was all false, the reality of it was overwhelming. Ning Huai's heart ached, a physical, twisting pain in his chest.

Friends, family, colleagues lay on the ground, eyes wide and unseeing.

The highly aberrant Ning Huai walked among them, a complete outsider. A strange chill settled in his bones.

When the last familiar face fell, the surroundings dissolved once more into blinding white mist.

The corpses on the ground seeped into the earth like water.

By now, Ning Huai's aberration degree had reached 47.

Dangerously close to the halfway point, but he could still hold on.

The great hall finally revealed its grotesque true form: a massive fish lying on the ground, its body in an advanced state of decay, but its mouth impossibly vast—large enough to swallow a truck whole.

The maw hung open, waiting for Ning Huai to walk right in.

Stranded without water, the fish couldn't move an inch on the street.

Ning Huai ended its existence without ceremony and pressed forward.

The mist grew thicker.

The final area was devoid of people, a landscape of ruins.

Forty-five years ago, Operation Divine Kingdom. To cripple the Holy One, he and twenty other advance team members had come here.

These ruins were the scars of their battle.

A look of nostalgia touched Ning Huai's face.

Among the first batch of Awakeners, the number of exceptional individuals had been unusually high. Mostly top talents from every field. Ordinary people who Awakened were rare.

According to Research Institute theory, perhaps this truly was a form of evolution.

Ning Huai knew he was very close to the Holy One's true form now.

A layer of chitinous armor spread over his body. Through subtle vibrations in the ground, he sensed movement from different directions.

Someone was behind him.

Bone spurs erupted from the skin of his forearms, their edges gleaming with a razor's cold light.

He whirled around—and his pupils constricted to pinpricks.

A few azure feathers drifted slowly from the sky.

Upon a cross atop a pile of rubble, a figure landed lightly on its peak.

Feng Qing stood there, two pairs of wings extending from his back, their tips brushing the ground. He held a scepter, his eyes empty yet radiating a sacred, imposing authority.

He seemed no different from the past.

Yet the aura emanating from Feng Qing was unmistakably that of a pollutant.

Ning Huai's voice emerged as a strangled, trembling whisper. "Azure Bird...?"

Feng Qing. Codename: Azure Bird.

Feng Qing did not answer. Instead, he raised his scepter and spoke a single, soft word. "Wind."

[Talent 16 - Nature Manipulation]