Chapter 22 White Emperor's Son_1

That instant, a wild wind howled past.

The hand that hung high in the sky slowly lifted, aiming far off at the brightly lit Xinhai City, its fingers slowly closing.

As if it had grasped something invisible.

Struggling to pull!

A sharp shriek burst from the void, like the sound of countless glasses being scratched, overlapping into an insane clamor that spread.

Heaven and earth shook.

As if plucking the wedges that fixed the sky and thick earth.

In that instant, a white shadow fell under a streetlight in the suburbs of Xinhai.

"Finally, I made it!"

The pigeon slowly retracted its wings, landing on the slender arm of the teenage girl.

Like she had just finished a marathon, she was sweating profusely, her tight sports T-shirt and running pants soaked through, clinging to her beautiful body.

Unfortunately, there was no one fortunate enough to witness it.

She gasped for breath, looking at the hand floating dozens of kilometers away, and shook her head helplessly.

Under the illumination of the streetlight, her shadow seemed to come to life, slowly raising its hands, as if drawing unseen weapons, two of them.

She slashed forward.

And then, silence descended.

For a moment, the distant roar, the cry of the insects, the falling dust, the flowing wind, the surging river, the rising fire, and the solid earth all came to a halt.

As if frozen by an invisible force.

The next instant, a faint trace that was difficult to distinguish extended from beneath her feet, stretching out straight ahead for twenty-three kilometers and four hundred eleven meters.

Destruction down to the millimeter arrived.

Neatly, the hand split apart right through the center, falling away in halves, and then was "sliced" at the waist, turning into four pieces.

The four pieces, before scattering, crumbled into eight.

One, two, four, eight, sixteen, thirty-two, sixty-four, one hundred twenty-eight, two hundred fifty-six… a cruel and precise geometric progression continued to the limits of human observation.

In the end, the shattered Source Substance exploded with a bang.

Turning into fire that consumed everything.

Everything thus far, before this sword strike for which there were no words to describe, came to an end.

It was over.

"I hope there won't be too many victims,"

she sighed sadly, then heard the sound of a phone in her pocket.

"Hello? I'll be right there! I just got lost, really lost... your airdrop is definitely problematic! I'll arrive in five minutes, just five... Ah, I'm on the way..."

The pigeon and the teenage girl both vanished.

.

.

"Heaven Earth Power·Divine Power at Will..."

As the hand of the Wind Disaster Beast shattered, Red Gloves' face turned ashen, and through gritted teeth, he hissed:

"—White Emperor's Son!"

Snap!

The crackling noise suddenly appeared on his face.

The signs of fracture spread, and in an instant, as if countless wild knives were hacking, his half body turned into a bloody mess, invisible swords still relentlessly tearing his shell, until the pendant around his neck wept—a little doll with a blank face crumbled into dust.

The blank-faced doll took his place, enduring the aftermath of White Emperor's Son's sword strike.

Yet even the last radiance of 'radiation' that leaked out was unbearable for him.

Even his Soul Incarnate, the Sneering Fish Tank, showed a brutal crack with one of the fish inside already belly-up.

The other was also floundering at death's door, clearly not long for this world.

"Damn these monsters..."

Red Gloves suddenly bent over, spitting out a mouthful of blood, hearing heavy footsteps in the distance—the army was already moving—and a vicious gleam shot through his eyes as he pulled out the detonator and slammed it down.

The countdown started on the plastic explosives set up around the church, ensuring that the last traces would be completely cleared in fifteen seconds.

Failing did not matter as long as the Rebirth Cauldron was still there...

He turned and reached towards the pulpit, but his hand and his malevolent grin both stiffened—there was nothing on the pulpit!

Gone!

The Rebirth Cauldron was gone!

The box had disappeared without a trace at some unknown time!

He furiously overturned the pulpit, finding nothing, screamed hoarsely twice, and in the face of the approaching footsteps, he frantically dismantled the entire pulpit, still finding nothing.

When the surviving doors of the church were smashed open and the Suppression Troops burst in, they only saw a man standing on the platform with eyes red as a mad dog.

He spat out in disdain, flipping the middle finger at the soldiers: "Eat shit, you walking corpses of the Astronomical Society!"

He threw out a playing card.

The card folded in midair, dragging his body along, and then with the card folding again and again, in the blink of an eye, he became an insignificant dot, sucked into an abysmal hole, vanishing from sight.

The next moment, the destructive blaze swallowed everything.

.

.

The feeling of losing too much blood was not actually painful.

There wasn't even a sensation of pain anymore.

Just tiredness, no strength left in my body, languid as if nothing mattered anymore... wanting to sleep, to rest, to end this damned life.

Closing my eyes, feeling entitled to embrace the long torment that's to come—a long, undisturbed slumber.

Death was approaching.

After witnessing so much death, so many different kinds of death, Huai Shi found that she was finally facing her own end.

It wasn't dreadful, nor was it painful, nor was there any reluctance.

Just fatigue and bewilderment.

In a daze, she felt someone pushing her body, struggling with a stick, shoving it forward, bit by bit, like a snail pushing a stone.

She was flipped over, lying on a torn carpet, dragged by someone to someplace.

I smelled the scent of burning, heard the sound of shattering, and the hoarse moans, as if the entire world was being destroyed.

There were droplets falling on Huai Shi's face.

There was the taste of blood.

He struggled to open his eyes and saw Liu Dongli beside him, life or death unknown, and ahead, an old man staggering and crawling, pulling at the carpet.

The figure with one lame leg pushed forward with all his might, prying a door open, then looked back.

His face seemed shattered as if half was unchanged, deathly pale like a corpse, while the other half spasmed violently, along with half his body.

It was as if half of him had already died, with the remaining half still struggling desperately, but beyond cure.

Seeing Huai Shi's vacant eyes, he evaded his gaze and with difficulty rolled up the carpet, wrapping both him and Liu Dongli together, painfully rolling them forward.

"I'm sorry… I must save her… Huai Shi, only I can save her now… I'm sorry…"

His hoarse whisper sounded like an apology, yet he didn't expect a response, just kept muttering to himself: "Sorry… sorry…"

The sound of a phone rang out, with the loudspeaker of a cheap phone cheerfully singing some love song, calling out 'darling' over and over, but no one answered.

"Sorry..."

Blood fell on Huai Shi's face, with the warmth of tears.

He was pushed and shoved into the darkness behind the door, tumbling down the long staircase, falling into a cellar cluttered with junk and jars of pickles.

In the midst of the violent rolling and falling, Huai Shi saw Old Yang's face for the last time.

He leaned against the door frame, looking at the boy, his twitching mouth forming a clumsy angle as if smiling, his hand holding the still-vibrating phone, waving to him.

Just like saying goodbye.

Huai Shi opened his mouth, wanting to call him back, but no sound came out.

The door closed.

In the darkness, the roar of an explosion came from afar, as the terrifying flames and heat swept through the entire church, turning everything that was left into ashes.

Huai Shi closed his eyes.

Death embraced him.

.

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"Someone, asked me, to bring a message to everyone…"

The rigid, stiff man was trapped in a chair, convulsing neurotically, with a goldfish in his eyes swimming listlessly.

"He said… he said… he said…"

His expression suddenly turned manic, revealing a ferocious smile.

"—Green Day, will eventually illuminate the world."

Bang!

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Amidst the sudden gunfire, his head exploded, but the gunfire didn't stop. After emptying a magazine, another one was loaded, and the trigger continued to be pulled.

Until the thing on the chair turned into a mass of flesh.

A shattered goldfish leapt from the hollow skull, pulverized by the bullets into a stinking paste, soon dehydrating into a pinch of powder.

"Did you catch him?"

Ai Qing indifferently tossed away her gun, looked up at the middle-aged man's expression, and without hiding her displeasure, said, "Don't bother saying it, he got away, right? After holding out for so long, did we make it in time for the purge?"

"He had a Border Relic on him that could perform short-range jumps. We have already sealed off the area around Xinhai City…"

"What about the survivors?"

Ai Qing lost interest in hearing him continue.

"…We are searching for them."

"Then keep searching."

Ai Qing withdrew her gaze, "Dig three feet into the ground if you must, until you find a body."

No one opposed.

When midnight arrived, news came from the rumbling collapsed ruins of the excavated church: "Liu Dongli and Huai Shi have been found!"

Outside the ruins, Ai Qing sat in her wheelchair with a calm expression: "What's their status?"

"Liu Dongli is still alive, critically injured, as for Huai Shi…"

The reporter hesitated for a moment, his expression uncertain:

"We are attempting resuscitation."

.

The temporary resuscitation room was in chaos, and Ai Qing waited outside quietly, listening to the noisy confusion inside.

"What about his breathing? Is it there?"

"No, the pulse is almost gone too, quickly inject…"

"It's no use, his heartbeat is erratic, almost gone… Where's the defibrillator? Give me the defibrillator!"

"One, two, three!"

Bang!

"One, two, three!"

Bang!

…

After a long time, there was no more sound from inside, and the resuscitating doctor came out, removing his mask with a look of regret: "Sorry, we were a step too late…"

Ai Qing nodded, silent, letting those people walk past her.

Soon, Ai Qing finally saw Huai Shi.

Like in deep sleep, the teenager lay on the operating table, his chest wound pale, and had even already stopped bleeding.

His empty eyes stared at the overhead surgical light.

The last heartbeat ceased.

Ai Qing fell silent, lowering her eyes, the color of her tightly gripped hand's pale flesh showed, and after a while, she said calmly, "Then… proceed with the protocol."

She turned her wheelchair, intending to leave.

But then, the movement of the wheelchair abruptly stopped.

She seemed to have heard a sound.