Determination and Realization

"Argh, I messed up!" In a private dining room at the Haian Industry office cafeteria, Ji Jue suddenly slapped the table, sighing deeply. "Tell me, if I'd written 'An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth,' wouldn't that have been clearer and more direct?" "Huh?" Holding his rice bowl, Ni Lin stared dumbfounded. "Right, I could have written it all!" Ji Jue suddenly perked up. "Leaving was just too rushed after all. We could have sacrificed half first, kept the other half, turned the old bastard into a disordered object, and sent him back to Midtown. "Then, during his trial, the old geezer could suddenly screech 'White Nation Forever!' and detonate right in front of those vermin... Wouldn't that have made for spectacular entertainment?" The more he talked, the more inspiration surged. He only resented that the old dog Fan Yun had died too quickly—one life simply wasn't enough to kill. He even pondered whether he should dig him out of the Tower's shadow to butcher him again if the chance ever arose, just to vent some spite. "Enough, that's more than enough," Ni Lin hurriedly urged him to stop. To be frank, even for a terrorist on the wanted notices like him, death was just a head hitting the ground. Monstrous resentment, ocean-deep hatred—beheading the man and leaving the corpse to rot in the wilderness was normally enough. If one went completely off the rails, eating his flesh and sleeping on his pelt was about the limit, or at most hollowing out his skull to make a drinking cup after long deliberation... Who would have guessed that craftsmen in this world were such bizarre creatures! From head to toe, inside and out, not a single damn bit went to waste... Even Ni Lin felt it was inhuman to watch. Still... credit where credit was due, it was undeniably exhilarating. He still couldn't suppress the upturn of his own lips. Hearing this now, he couldn't help a soft sigh, saying solemnly, "Thank you for your benevolence, Wolf Lord. If the King knows in the Netherworld, he will surely take you as a kindred spirit!" "Better if he doesn't know, honestly," Ji Jue sighed, frowning. "Also, what's with that title? Didn't I tell you to change it?" Ni Lin looked at a loss. "But I accepted your oath. You are my Wolf Lord, and I am your subordinate. If I don't call you Wolf Lord, what else should I call you?" "Mr. Ji, Boss Ji, or just call me by name, Ji Jue. Anything is fine as long as you don't call me Wolf Lord." Ji Jue emphasized once more, "No calling me that, hear me! I'm a law-abiding craftsman, the conscience of the Federation!" Conscience or not didn't really matter. The point was, there was still a hunter watching his back. Ghost knew when she wouldn't be able to stand it and would pop out to stab him... Having a name carved into his heart was trouble enough; if she left a mark on his face next time, how was he supposed to live? "Boss... Ji..." Ni Lin hesitated for a long time, helpless. "You have the final say." Nothing could be done about it; he was an honest man of few words. Once a royal guard, the fiercely loyal Ni Lin had followed the White King, abandoned Supreme Virtue, and willingly embraced Great Sin alongside him to become a wolf. By all rights, he should have gone with the White King in death as well. Yet at the very end, the White King had severed his Wolf Blood Oath of his own accord. To prevent him from losing control later on, Ji Jue simply saw the good deed through to the end and re-rooted him using his White Stag privateering license. From then on, Ni Lin—a wolf who had ascended to Exaltation years ago—counted as Ji Jue's employee. After the White King's death, Ni Lin had grown disheartened. Aside from resisting his man-eating urges, he had essentially been lying flat for years, even stooping to working for the Church of Sublime Light to raise an orphaned child... Otherwise, how would Corrupt Scale have ever had the chance to run around swindling in the White Nation's name? As for Ji Jue... he had no idea whether he counted as a wolf or what sort of monstrosity now. Although the essence of the completed transformation of the third wolf was indeed within him, after the White Stag's radical modifications, the Mutual Transmutation of Virtue and Vice, and fusion with the vile fiend, it had become unrecognizable. It was the equivalent of seizing the Unborn Wolf's illicit assets, turning around to transfer them into Ji Jue's company, and pasting his own property tag over the original trademark. The essence remained, and the various enhancements and amplifications were not diminished in the slightest, but it had completely severed ties with the Unborn Wolf. The advantage was that he no longer ate raw humans. The disadvantage was... —He had switched to eating cooked ones! To be precise, "processed goods." Without opening his mouth, simply through touch, he could directly plunder an opponent's life and spiritus... This round, a werewolf had essentially been heavily modded into a vampire. Walking down the street, everyone looked like a prepared dish. Ji Jue didn't even have that need or trouble—Deus Ex Machina consumed far more aggressively than that, and that tiny craving could be satisfied on the side while consuming scrap, which was even more "nutritious" and "wholesome"! The only problem was... Look at the others: Wolf of the Mountain, Wolf of the Heart, Wolf of the Forest. So what kind of wolf was he? Wolf of the Stag? Or Wolf of the Furnace?! Forget it. Just hearing that made one want to sprinkle two pinches of cumin and chili powder on it. Having fully grasped his own tragic talent for naming, Ji Jue had already given up. His own workshop didn't even have a name yet; the Association had been hounding him for ages without result. Since he couldn't think of one, he would put it aside for now. He didn't even plan to bring Ni Lin back to the Federation. Having the former guard of the White King following around behind him was simply too conspicuous. Besides, though Xinquan was somewhat chaotic, there was no place for him to make an impact there. Ji Jue's cooperation with the Wild Gathering was thick as thieves; if a wolf were quietly planted there, Chen Xingzhou probably wouldn't be able to sleep at night. By contrast, the White Nation, currently a boiling mess of chaos, was where great things could be achieved. Whether Ni Lin wanted to revere the king and repel the barbarians, reclaim the homeland, or keep raising children, it didn't matter. It was all up to him. If he truly felt lonely, Ji Jue had even introduced him to part-time gigs! This operation, aside from venting lingering indignation, was also a chance for him to take revenge and prove himself. Now Fan Yun was sent on his way, and the materials were in the bag. Counting the tip from big brother White Stag, the primary materials and sacrifices for Yuchang were fully prepared. Even the hidden condition of "assassinating the monarch" had been fulfilled, leaving no further worries. Sacrificing the soul, spiritus, and blood of a Tianyuan Celestial-Human to the sword was more than enough. The hottest potato, the chronowedge, had been tossed to that old Tale fossil... Wait! Holding his wineglass, Ji Jue slowly turned his head to look at the old fossil beside him, who smiled without saying a word, his brow furrowing. The food had been eaten, the wine had been drunk, the goods had been taken, the man had been killed. By now, the party ought to have dispersed. Why were you still here? Having just butchered a member of his own clan, the old Tale fossil Fan Qian grinned faintly. He suddenly asked, "Had your fun?" "Had my fun." Fan Qian nodded, then asked, "Am I a good brother?" "A real brother!" Ji Jue nodded decisively. With that, Fan Qian's smile grew even more cheerful. He asked again, "Then shouldn't you do something for your brother?" "Hold on!" Ji Jue raised a hand, speaking with righteous indignation: "Accepting help doesn't mean I'm joining Nirvana! Besides, didn't I recruit someone new for you guys? Isn't a Ni Lin enough?" Fan Qian shook his head. "Ni Lin is Ni Lin, you are you. How can you lump them together?" Ji Jue glared. "I even treated you to a meal!" "At a cafeteria?" Fan Qian laughed out of sheer exasperation, pointing at the tabletop. "Look at these dishes: stir-fried bean sprouts, stewed bean sprouts, boiled bean sprouts, tofu, bean noodles, tofu skin... With this many beans, even a fish would fart from eating it! You couldn't even bear to add a single meat dish for me! "Besides, we didn't force you to join. You came up and placed the order yourself, all right?!" The more he spoke, the more aggrieved he sounded: "The man, I helped you kill. The blame, I took for you. When those old Heavenly Overseer ghosts go mad searching for someone, you aren't the one who has to sweat, are you? "I know you made money in the city..." After a long string of grievances, he turned serious: "You don't want to get involved with us, but isn't the connection deep enough already? "Besides, Non-Offensive is still on you. You're carrying that name, aren't you? You can't just refuse to acknowledge it!" "Ha! Didn't I pay?! I gave you the lion's share, okay!" Ji Jue grew frantic as well. "Besides, if you want to bring that up, let's settle the score properly! "Back when you asked me to build a gun, you never said it was going to shoot my grandmaster, did you?!" He slammed the table, turning hostile and scolding, "It's bad enough you almost made me betray my sect, but if anything happened to Grandmaster, how could I face his earnest hopes and nurturing of me?!" "..." Fan Qian fell silent. Ji Jue also fell silent. In the long, drawn-out silence, Fan Qian looked at his expression and couldn't help reminding him, "Friend, you're about to lose your poker face." "...Excuse me." Ji Jue coughed, turned his head, took a deep breath, and strove to steady his mood. Serious again. In the end, he couldn't hold it... Pfft! "Look at that!" Ji Jue's expression twitched, still talking tough. "You've made me laugh out of anger!" "Heh!" Fan Qian's expression grew increasingly mocking. He raised his teacup, chugged it down, set it down, and finally sighed. "To tell the truth, nobody is demanding anything excessive from you. We aren't hurting for one more person. "Now that it's come to this, if you want to part ways, fine, I don't care. But if you truly have a shred of conscience and feel even a little responsibility for the Sage's legacy, at least come have a cup of tea and meet him, all right?" "..." Ji Jue remained silent for a long time. "Are you sure it's just tea?" "What else! You expecting wine, women, and a massage?!" Fan Qian rose abruptly, unable to hold back a sigh of relief. Exhausting. This dog was truly stubborn and impossible to lead... If he hadn't seized the opportunity right now, two days later the kid would definitely turn around and pretend not to know anyone. "Fine, follow me. I know you're busy with countless affairs, Boss Ji. I won't hold you long. I'll make sure to send you back before dinner so you can keep eating your damn bean sprouts!" He took off the snakelike hat, tossed it onto the ground, and stretched it open with both hands into a pitch-black, gaping hole. Fan Qian stepped out and leapt right in. Ji Jue sighed and followed close behind, with Ni Lin after him. His vision blurred, and the world transformed completely. A Rabbit Hole! Still a Rabbit Hole. Only in the material world, this was clearly a Masterwork of the Eternal Gate lineage, the kind that could target direction and position with its own key and authentication. In less than two seconds, Ji Jue had landed amidst open fields. Nestled among green hills and clear waters, a tranquil village not far off was already in sight. No one would ever have imagined that such a serene, peaceful village would turn out to be Nirvana's lair. What's more... "A Border Realm?" Ji Jue looked around. "Yeah, what else? Stay in the material world and wait to get purged eight hundred times a day?" Fan Qian led the way ahead. Along the path, they encountered quite a few people who seemed familiar; some waved, some nodded, but none asked questions of one another. Still, weren't there a bit too few people? Ji Jue couldn't help frowning. "Isn't your setup a little too casual? At least have a reception desk. You don't even have an office building..." "Do you want nine-to-five hours, morning and evening meetings, synergizing leverage, aligning granularities, cutting costs, boosting efficiency, and setting KPIs and performance targets too?" Fan Qian rolled his eyes. "Give it a rest, Director Ji. Put away your bag of tricks. "Nirvana is a loose organization to begin with. Everyone has their own business to attend to; we just gather because of shared goals. Occasionally when something interesting comes up, we do a bit of team-building. At most it's mutual aid. There are no mandatory assigned tasks, nor any fuss about formalities... Just treat it as a hobby club and mutual support group." "Well, your club's team-building activities are pretty high-end. When you're bored, you go kill emperors for fun..." "Don't mention it. When we have free time, we kill presidents too." "..." Reaching the center of the village, before a building resembling an assembly hall, Fan Qian stopped and glanced at Ji Jue. "All right, go on in. The leader is waiting for you inside." "What about you?" "I'll take Ni Lin to do the paperwork. When you're done, come find me at that house shaped like a chicken foot up ahead. I'll open the door and send you back." Ji Jue waved a hand, and Ni Lin followed Fan Qian away. Leaving him alone, standing before the door. After hesitating for a long time, he sighed silently. Sitting behind that door was probably the contemporary Juzi, the greatest terrorist in the entire world, while he himself... was merely a humble craftsman. Yet what else could he do? If he refused to board the pirate ship, who knew if they would smash a cup as a signal and have eight hundred White Owls leap out to gun him down. He was already at the door. Just as Fan Qian had said, his entire body was practically bound to the Mohists. Even if he wanted to jump ship, he couldn't. Whether he stretched his neck or pulled it back, the blade would still fall; he had to meet him anyway, so why hesitate? And so, Ji Jue made up his mind. He pushed the door open. *Click—* There were no ax-wielding guards, no intimidation display. Behind the door was no White Tiger Hall, nor a crowd of bizarre figures glaring at him. There was only an aged long table, upon which sat discarded takeout containers from a recently finished meal. As well as a figure seated at the far end of the long table, head down, playing on a phone. "Dawdling for so long, I thought you'd turned around and left." The leader of Nirvana raised his eyes and looked over. Under the light, that bald head reflected the gleam. A burly man with scruffy stubble looked up with a genial expression, leaned back in his chair, and grinned. "What's wrong, Ji Jue?" The leader asked curiously, "Having met the Juzi, why do you not bow?" "..." Ji Jue remained silent. In the quiet, he stepped forward slowly, drawing closer to examine him carefully. His gaze swept inch by inch across the man's face, his brow gradually furrowing. He couldn't hold back a cold sneer. "The Juzi hides behind a veil yet expects me to fall to my knees in homage. What kind of logic is that?" Disappointment! Indescribable disappointment! Ji Jue had finally resolved to meet the contemporary Juzi, only to be greeted by a disguise wrapped in illusion, a hypocritical smiling face, and an affectation of sincerity. Utterly laughable. Fake! No matter how realistic the illusion's disguise was, beneath the reflection of the Hanxiang Mirror, subtle flaws still emerged. No matter how negligible the flaw, before a wolf's heightened instincts, it was no different from walking around with one's underwear showing. The leader seemed slightly taken aback. His expression shifted. Not with anger, but with regret. "...Well, fair enough." He shrugged with a sigh. "My identity is sensitive after all, so I rarely see people normally. Even when I show my face, I wear a casual disguise, to the point that it's become a habit. "Meeting you in this guise truly was too dismissive of you... But in the end, it was for your own good!" "Utter nonsense!" Ji Jue sneered coldly. "If it was for my own good, why drag me into Nirvana? Besides, since Quicksilver's Border Realm, you've had your eyes on me for quite a while, haven't you? "In that case, we might as well part ways. Why doesn't the leader be magnanimous and spare a mere craftsman like me?" "Fine, since you put it that way..." The leader wore an odd expression, looking at him with final resignation. "Then we might as well meet with complete honesty. "I only hope you won't regret it when the time comes." "Heh..." Ji Jue scoffed, watching as the man reached up to remove the mask. The smile froze on his face. In the dead silence, the illusion dissipated. Once the rough, hearty disguise vanished, what appeared before his eyes was a contrast beyond all expectation. There was nothing unkempt about him. This leader of Nirvana, the contemporary Juzi, possessed handsome features, clad in pure white, spotless and untainted. When he reined in that unreliable grin and faced others with gravity, his temperament was transcendent and captivating. If there were any blemish on perfection, it was only that the bloody hole in his forehead was an eyesore... In the silence, Ji Jue stood frozen, forgetting to breathe. Darkness swam before his eyes. It was as though he had finally felt the malice of the entire world. Now, it was too late to swap for a pair of eyes that hadn't seen this. Who could tell him why the leader of Nirvana, the world's largest terrorist organization and its number one terrorist... He couldn't hold it back any longer, letting out a wretched scream. —Motherfucker, it's Tianlu! Aaaaagh!!!!!! *** "Holy Master—" In the dim hall, a dust-stained traveler knelt in audience. "By your command, I have returned from the White Nation. The object Shehri found in the deepest reaches of Shangri-La is here." With that, he spread his hands, and a massive iron chest slowly rose from the darkness, surfacing within the hall. The Sower nodded. "A long journey. You have worked hard." "Merely my duty." The traveler bowed humbly, feeling both joy and suppressed fury. "Regrettably, the White Nation plan was ruined. Those treacherous wolves were unfit to be entrusted with great tasks; instead, they altered the Holy Master's design for their own selfish desires..." "I know," the Sower said. The traveler was momentarily stunned, incredulous, unable to comprehend. "If so, why allow such wavering, two-faced opportunists to waste resources..." "I gave him the plan. Whatever became of it, success or failure, matters not. It was not his fault... It is rare to walk the same road together; even if our destinations differed, there is no need for harsh reproaches." The Sower remained serene, bearing neither pity nor mercy, only regret... "To the very end, your heart was still empty, Shehri." He rested a hand on the iron chest with a soft sigh. Had he possessed any restraint over his ambition, how would he have walked toward such a dead end? No one answered. Above the rust, the ashes of ambition rose in the wind, falling into the flames, never to be seen again. The chest slowly opened. Carefully and solemnly wrapped in layers, there lay a letter written by Shehri, as well as the final treasure he had offered to his Holy Master. A damaged stele buried in soil and dust. Through so many years of wind, rain, and weathered erosion, its former appearance could no longer be discerned; even the inscriptions upon it were indecipherable. In the quiet, the Sower fell silent, lost in thought. "Pardon my boldness—" The man with pale, blank eyes looked up, asking in bewilderment, "What is written upon it? Did the King of Mercy once leave behind some prophecy?" "Nothing more than the remnants of the past..." The Sower reached out, his hand brushing over the mottled, fractured stele. "A lost traveler who could not even see his own path ahead—what prophecy could he possibly leave?" Upon the cracked stele, a final faint glimmer surfaced. Like a prayer from ages past rekindling. The final words left to this world by the King of Universal Mercy. [Here, return the molt of confusion to the world.] [Here, sow the seeds of a new world.] Thousands, tens of thousands of years ago, the monk known as the King of Universal Mercy abandoned everything and departed into extinction. Thousands, tens of thousands of years later, the Saintly Fool known as the Sower awakened from the deepest darkness of the Vortex, opening his eyes... The former life had long grown blurred; the past was entirely severed. Even when Mercy entered extinction, he would not have regarded what followed as a continuation, would he? Even if, across such vast stretches of time, there remained the faintest thread of connection, this heart and that heart were completely distinct. Perhaps it was one origin among ten thousand causes, merely a single branch among ten thousand springs. Regrettably, to the very end, all that he had hoped for had never arrived. A clear, bright world remained distant; the true form of all things and phenomena had yet to be seen. Everything grew ambiguous in distortion, ever more indistinct. Perhaps until complete destruction arrived, it was destined to receive no answer... The Sower inquired toward the stele, "Having entered extinction, why cling once more?" And so, the sound of cracking arose. Before the Sower's eyes, that greeting left across vast ages quietly dissipated. The stele turned to dust and smoke. Nothing remained. Only a distant, soft sigh echoed endlessly. "Supreme Virtue and Great Sin are finite in the end. A direction wrong from the very start—no matter how many ascents and falls, it is nothing more than wandering astray; no matter how much comprehension and determination, it is only foam on water, a phantom flower." The Saintly Fool raised his eyes, gazing above the Vortex at that faint lingering light, like a world burning. "In such a futile, endless loop of repetition, what future can there possibly be?" Only when all that was old was thoroughly destroyed could a new world sprout...