Welcome to Rewind World Game-Chapter 1471 - 120: "A Bird Sings with Grain in Its Beak
Love, warmth, expectation, hope...these are things that could kill a beast at any time.
A beast cannot possess these things, so it never harbors hope.
Su Wenjun raised both hands, tightly gripping Su Ming’an’s sword blade, resisting it from moving forward, blood flowing through his fingers.
Su Ming’an swung the sword forward mercilessly, piercing through Su Wenjun’s resistance. Their ideological conflict was irreconcilable; only life and death could separate them.
Swoosh—swoosh—swoosh—
The sword blade pierced through flesh, making a sound that made one’s teeth ache.
Like the sound of a solid piercing through liquid.
Like the sound of a hard object scraping across bone.
The moment the sword blade completely penetrated Su Wenjun, Su Ming’an seemed to see a flash of white light. In the white light, there was a child walking quietly in the wilderness, wearing tattered clothes and a worn wooden mask.
The bun rolled into the sewer, and the child crawled on the ground, desperately drinking the muddy water, praying for a few crumbs of the bun to flow into his mouth. A wild dog bit his broken leg, barking fiercely at him. Yet he, on all fours, barked back with a hoarse and fierce expression, even attempting to bite the dog’s flesh, appearing more like a beast than the dog.
Soon, the child was gone, replaced by a teenager.
He argued over a property deed, walking from the alley entrance to the alley end, his face covered in blood and tears, ignored by everyone.
Countless sticks, swords, even flames fell upon him. He gritted his teeth, enduring it, with the wild fire still burning in his eyes.
Very soon, the teenager became a young man. Many lent him their arms, many handed him bottles of wine and roast chicken, many lit the cigarette in his mouth with a smile.
But soon, these people disappeared too.
Until finally, in the white light, only the young man wearing a silver mask remained.
He leaned alone against an idol, looking at the rows of black tombstones, seemingly waiting for something, but no hand ever reached out to him.
The wine on the table had already cooled.
He looked at the cold wine, murmuring:
"I will become a part of the world’s rotten flesh, the most decayed and corrupt worm."
"I will rot, become ugly, wither away. I will become the worst part of this world, digging deep into its source of sin, burning with it. People will hate me, people will despise me, people will do everything to get rid of me."
"I will rise high above, overlooking all directions."
"I want to offer the goddess a white daisy."
"I want to offer the goddess a bright red shawl."
"I want to offer the goddess a magnificent crown."
"When the passing traveler brings these to me, I will invite him to meet the goddess together."
"I am in the story, trapped in the quagmire, powerless to change the story of the world. Even if I put in my all, I am nothing but a broken person in Olivius’s palm."
"Then, I will join forces with the passing traveler, hoping to change this story with him, whether to end it or return to the beginning."
"If our hearts are in sync."
"We will open the story again and again, starting it anew, keeping the characters forever free and the future never-ending."
"If we are powerless against fate."
"I will...die along with the worst, greatest sin, ugliness, and prison."
"Die without leaving a trace, never to be reborn."
The purple-haired young man promised so firmly in front of the tombstone.
Until the flames pierced the white light, dry burning sensations reawakened Su Ming’an’s senses, and he could no longer see those illusory scenes.
He saw the purple-haired youth already excessively bleeding, collapsing in his arms.
Amidst the raging fire, the expression of the purple-haired youth finally became calm, with the sword blade piercing through his chest, blood flowing out, leaving only his faint murmur:
"The sunlight this afternoon is so nice...perfect for a nap..."
"I’ll nap for a while and never wake up again..."
He never considered himself a good person. All his plans were born out of selfishness.
Desiring wealth, power, force, and freedom. He would rob, deceive, and kill. To destroy the formation of the Book of the Universe, he committed every evil.
He never defended himself or needed anyone’s praise.
Because he would eventually leave.
Today, he just lost to Su Ming’an, it did not mean he conceded.
If he could not achieve destruction, then he sought his own path. Dying before the formation of the Book of the Universe could also be considered a rejection of "perfection."
He was the first person who attempted to break free from the destiny of the Book of the Universe, and the first to have the courage to reject "perfection."
"This is..."
He smiled a little, enduring the severe pain, slowly fitting the cracked silver mask back on his face:
"The story I freely chose for myself."
The mask concealed his wild smile and a tear.
Sunlight sifted through the sparse shadows of branches, piercing through crystal leaves, shining into the burning flames.
Light and shadow stirred, as if a bird’s shadow circled and flew in the high dome...
No one knew where Su Wenjun’s last bit of strength came from; he pushed Su Ming’an away, pulled out the sword from his chest, blood spraying in an arc, clutching his chest, limping towards the flames.
Purple long hair fluttering in the scorching wind, golden eyes shining brightly, his exposed chin pale as paper, dripping with red blood, his red robe fluttering like a splendid violet flower.
Just like when Su Ming’an first stepped into the World Lord’s Palace, seeing the high and mighty lord leaning against the idol.
Blood and crimson clothes merged into one, he staggered, step by step, forward...
——Finally, he stepped into the sea of flames.
In an instant, the fierce fire ignited the long purple hair and the bright red robe, as if violet flowers were blooming like flames, dazzling and vibrant.
Su Ming’an almost chuckled.
...What kind of obsession is this, Su Wenjun.
Lost the fight, yet you don’t want to die under my watch, insisting on rushing into the sea of fire, burning yourself to ashes.
As if by doing so, you no longer have to appear again, no longer become a fixed character, a fixed marionette in the endless cycle.
Su Wenjun staggered into the fire, his body in such pain it felt like it might split apart, his cheeks twitching from the agony.
He leaned forward, closing his eyes that had already grown dark.
A cufflink shaped like a purple rose fell to the ground with a clink.
The silver mask was still resilient in the fierce fire, made of the best materials that could withstand the flames, shining with a devilish red.
"I lost to you today, Su Ming’an. But I also won, won my own ending."
"In the new world."
"...Please don’t write me out again."
He clutched the mask, closing his eyes.
Su Ming’an, you are a good person. Although our ideologies conflicted and I couldn’t defeat you, I admit you are truly a great person.
One day, if you see a magpie clutch wheat and sing on the statue of the gods.
...then it will be our reunion.
...
In the dream, Su Wenjun saw the magpie.
The magpie flew around the Divine Mountain, reminiscent of years ago when a few young people lit a bonfire and recited poetry under the starry night on the Divine Mountain, envisioning the future.
The winds of time blew through the peach grove, also blowing their robes into a surge.
In this gust, he felt as if he returned to many years ago, when he first opened his eyes and rushed out the door.
Turning right, he would meet the gaze of the Demon Mother Goddess, leading to a lifetime of madness and suffering. Turning left, there was a giant strawberry birthday cake.
He walked to the left, where an annoying guy waited, wearing an irritating red beret, smiling as he spoke.
Happy birth, Su Wenjun.
He looked at the massive birthday cake, at the table with the finest pens and paper, gifts carefully prepared.
If he chose to go left all those years ago, would he not have ended up in the wilderness, becoming a beast that lives by devouring raw flesh and blood?
...
["If our minds are connected."]
["We will open the story again and again, letting it restart, allowing the characters to be forever free, and the future never ending."]
["If there is no hope for turning the tide."]
["I will... die along with the greatest evil, ugliness, and cage."]
["Die without a trace, never to be reborn."] 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂
...
But in this world, how many "what ifs" are there, just as when the Book of the Universe is formed, his death ending will also become a resolution. No matter how the tide of time turns, there will never be a chance for rebirth. He no longer needs to appear in the perfect ending, truly refusing perfection.
If it cannot be destroyed, then seek virtue and get virtue.
"At least, this is the story I freely chose for myself..."
He closed his eyes.
And said to himself:
There’s nothing bad about not eating cake.
Happy Doom, Su Wenjun.
Congratulations on dying without a trace, never to be reborn.
...
...
"By the way, Su Ming’an."
"After I die, I allow you... to remove my head... after you revive Qi Zhou in the new world... let him use it as a ball."
"I know, he’s eager... to kick it..."
"I agree..."
"But, only once, and don’t kick the face, got it..."
...
Su Ming’an picked up the silver mask.
Red as blood, burning hot in his palm, proud like a red-purple rose standing tall.
He blew off the ash from the mask.
And put it into his backpack.
