I'm bombarding the Supernatural World with my firearms-Chapter 476: Extra 15: "Chen Universe" (15)

"..."

"..."

On Chen Ping’s 13th birthday, in full view of everyone, Chen Ping transmigrated before the public—leaving everyone somewhat dumbfounded at the scene, their hands frozen mid-air, prepared to raise a toast and clink glasses with Chen Yi.

Should the celebration continue?

It was akin to attending someone’s wedding, only for the newlyweds to encounter an unexpected mishap at the event.

It was quite a challenging situation to deal with.

"..."

The atmosphere at the venue became extremely awkward for a moment before Chen Yi, standing on the stage, broke the silence with a long sigh, "Let it be, this is the Chen Family’s fate, and it’s inevitable. I won’t hold him back."

Indeed.

Chen Ping was supposed to have transmigrated immediately after his birth. He had been kept in the Chen Universe for thirteen years by sealing the spatial dimensions, which now allowed Chen Ping to stay until he turned 13 before transmigrating. It was already commendable, after all, he couldn’t possibly imprison his grandson in this universe forever, not allowing him to go anywhere.

How vast was the universe.

It was impossible to stay on a single planet for an entire lifetime.

Anyway, he was already 13 years old and should have a certain ability to survive. Compared to that, Chen Yi was more worried about his younger son, who had transmigrated while still in his mother’s womb. It was unknown which world he had gone to.

The odds of surviving that were indeed very slim.

...

Chen Miao looked at Chen Yi stepping down from the stage with a look of complaint and dissatisfaction, "Is this the gift you’re giving to my son—turning a lively person into a missing one?"

"I didn’t expect it either."

Chen Yi also shook his head helplessly with a touch of embarrassment, "Who would have thought that the moment the restriction was lifted, he would transmigrate? But perhaps it’s a good thing. Since the restriction was lifted and he transmigrated, it means his destiny mandated this ordeal. Sooner or later, he had to face it."

"It’s unavoidable."

"The only good news is that the brush I prepared for him has also gone with him."

"That’s a real treasure—absolutely enough as a weapon for self-defense."

"Let’s hope so."

Chen Miao gazed anxiously toward the horizon. His son was good in every aspect, except that he fainted at the sight of blood—suffered from a severe phobia of blood, and it seemed almost embedded in his genes. Even the slightest sight of a bloodstain could make him faint. Various devices had been tried to no avail.

With such a condition, could he survive after transmigration?

If he fought someone and accidentally caused them to bleed from the nose, only to faint on the spot, wouldn’t he become an easy target like a lamb waiting for slaughter? That would be utterly nonsensical, wouldn’t it?

Just like that.

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This birthday banquet for Chen Ping ended abruptly, and life swiftly resumed its normal course, with only Elder Bai still vigorously investing his heart and soul into his "White Continent," which had undergone major changes after more than a decade of development.

That continent had transformed greatly.

And so had Elder Bai, having updated his version many times over.

Many cities had even emerged on the continent, evolving from a single race at the beginning to now housing 97 races.

Continuous battles raged between them, clearly showing Elder Bai’s enjoyment of the chaos.

It was a bit like playing a real-life strategy game. However, Elder Bai was a bit unethical. As a spectator or controller, he didn’t ensure absolute fairness, often discreetly giving subtle enhancements to some weaker races.

Such as secretly increasing a race’s critical hit rate, and so forth.

Elder Bai defended his actions by saying,

"Luck is also part of strength, after all."

"To be favored by me, Elder Bai—that’s the luck of these smaller races."

Quite reasonable, there wasn’t much they could do.

...

Time flew, and three more years passed by.

"Has it been three years, huh?"

In a certain world,

Chen Ping was standing by a river, clad in hemp clothing and holding a brush, with an upright posture and a vacant expression, staring down at his own reflection in the river with a distant murmur.

Around him lay nearly a hundred bodies, all covered in wounds.

So much blood had flowed that it formed a pool, even tinting the nearby water red.

Drops of crimson blood steadily dripped from the tip of his nose.

Looking closely at the reflection of Chen Ping on the water’s surface, one could see that his eyes had been forcibly gouged out, making him a true blind man.

Three years earlier, he had transmigrated to this world.

A world in turmoil.

A fantasy world ravaged by chaos, where some could shatter mountains with their fists and others could cleave the seas with their swords.

Upon transmigration, he became a lowly military slave—regularly bullied within the army and sent as fodder in times of war.

He had resisted.

But every time he made someone bleed in his resistance, he would faint and be at the mercy of his opponent, defenseless to their abuse. After countless such incidents, he endured and secretly learned martial arts, covering his eyes to master the art of echolocation.

Until a few months later,

During another instance of oppression, he stood before his enemies, gouged out his own eyes with his fingers, then calmly advanced with his brush as a weapon, effortlessly dispatching his long-time oppressors to the underworld, like slaughtering chickens and dogs.

Latterly...

He began to flee from the military and went into hiding.

Now, after having reached the "Body Tempering Realm," a relatively high level of martial arts mastery, he could be considered an expert in his own right. In the Jianghu, people gave him a nickname, "Blind Judge," due to his blindness and fame for wielding a brush as his weapon.

He found this nickname rather pleasing to the ear.

Even the sound of it often made him quite satisfied, and it had to be said that those who coined this nickname had a certain level of expertise.

His only regret, however, was that... he could not see.

Just then—

A weak girl standing by his side whispered, "Ping, what if we just run away, as far away as possible? They have too many powerful people, fighting with them won’t end well."

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Chen Ping shook his head, his voice laced with bloodthirstiness and severity.

"Running away won’t solve the problem."

"Only by killing these people to the point of terror, will they realize what a Blind Judge stands for."

...

Another three years passed.

Chen Ping, his eyes still empty sockets, sat tranquilly on the ground in front of a desolate grave, remained silent for a long while alone, before he took out a jar of Monkey Wine from his bosom and sprinkled it on the ground as he softly said.

"If I had listened to you back then, maybe you wouldn’t have died."

"They really are awful."

...

Another three years went by.

The Blind Judge had become one of the famous masters in the Jianghu, and those old enemies of his had all had their heads severed, piled in front of that withered grave.

Chen Ping was no longer young; his face was now adorned with stubbles, and he would occasionally look up to the sky, feeling the sun’s glare. Though blind, he could still imagine the sun in his mind.

"I wonder... how Father and the others are doing?"

...

Five more years passed.

The name of the Blind Judge was no longer heard in Jianghu.

The once Blind Judge had perfected his martial arts and completely restored his eyes. Though he still grew faint at the sight of blood, he had found a better solution than gouging out his own eyes – grinding his enemies to dust and ash, denying them the chance to bleed.

From then on…

The Blind Judge was no more.

Instead, there was the Ash Scatterer Judge.

...

A hundred years later.

This Ash Scatterer Judge had reached the pinnacle of strength and, after breaking the world’s barriers, wandered through the galaxies. After years of wandering, he discovered traces of life on a planet.

Upon landing.

He found the continent of the planet covered with tropical jungles. No sooner had he landed than a crowd of people in various garments surrounded him, babbling about something incomprehensible due to the language barrier.

But shortly after, a man came forward with a portrait and pressed a button with an excited expression.

Almost instantly.

The space above his head tore open, and a middle-aged man followed by a group of people stepped out from the rift. It was Chen Yi, Chen Miao, and others.

"Father..."

Chen Ping stood stunned, his lips trembling as he murmured in disbelief.

He hadn’t expected his father to look just as young after such a long time.

"Eh?"

Chen Miao looked bewilderedly at the muscular man in front of him, covered in scars, with a life force many times stronger than his own, and muttered in confusion, "What’s going on? Haven’t you only been away for three months? Why do you look older than me?"

If Chen Ping’s face had not remained largely unchanged, he would have doubted whether this man was really his son.

The kid…

Looked even older than him.

"Three months?"

Chen Ping spoke with a choked voice, "Father, I’ve spent over a hundred years in that world."

"That long?"

Chen Miao reflected, "It seems the flow of time must be different. It’s quite normal. In different universes, the time flow varies. Your grandfather distributed your portrait to most life-bearing planets across numerous universes."

"That’s how we were able to locate you immediately."

"It looks like we were early. If we had come a few months later, you might have ruled over that universe."

"Alright, alright."

Only then did Chen Miao look at Chen Ping’s teary eyes with a touch of helplessness, "Don’t cry now. I understand your feelings, but our emotional states don’t match up. To me, we’ve just been apart for three months."

"It’s hard to elicit the emotion of extreme joy from a father-son reunion after many days apart."

"It’s only been three months, longer than what a boarding school term would be."

"Enough talk, let’s go back first. Let’s get you cleaned up properly; you’re quite scruffy."

"Didn’t anyone tell you that you’re scruffy?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"They dare not."

"Alright, you’ve become awesome, my boy."

...

Once back at the Chen Residence, after getting cleaned up, Chen Ping was surrounded by his family and began to recount his adventures since crossing over.

When they heard he gouged out his eyes to avoid fainting at the sight of blood, Lord Miao couldn’t help but stroke Chen Ping’s head with eyes full of pity.

Chen Ping was only 13 when he crossed over.

To take such a ruthless step at such a young age required an immense amount of courage.

"Impressive."

Even Chen Yi expressed his genuine admiration, "You truly are worthy of being my grandson, Chen Yi. To achieve great things, one must first be ruthless to oneself. In such a situation, how many people would dare to take such action?"