A senior Extraordinary once said that memory carrying contamination is a poison.
Others said that peering into another's dream means shouldering their pain, for what remains most unforgettable in a person's memory is often what they most desperately wish to forget.
Yet Bai Zhou had always walked against that current.
Contamination or pain, it mattered not—the last words of the dead lay right there, and within them resided the memories of the deceased.
Only out of unreconciled regret were last words left behind; only out of a yearning to be acknowledged were memories preserved.
Perhaps there were always risks. Perhaps along the way, Bai Zhou would be affected.
Yet if anyone were to ask Bai Zhou what he thought, his answer would never waver, and no matter how many times he was asked, he would answer without a moment's hesitation—
Then he would bear it!
Bai Zhou felt this was what he ought to do. It was partly because he saw it as fair exchange for receiving the gifts of the departed, but even more so because he believed someone had to remember.
Everyone wanted their memories to be full of joy, and everyone wished to leave this world without bitter, resentful last words—
Yet things rarely went as wished. Such was the cruelty of this world.
Still, though the realm of the living was so callous, the realm of the dead could become a little less frigid through his actions.
To grant solace to the departed, and to remain strong as the living.
If he could do that, Bai Zhou felt his journey into the occult world would not have been in vain.
Yet, it bore repeating—
This was not out of gentle kindness, or at least Bai Zhou did not see it that way.
It was merely what he ought to do: an equivalent exchange.
*Buzz—*
A stream composed of fractured strokes flowed into Bai Zhou's mind. Looking closely, the sharp hooks and bends resembled hundreds of joyful colts galloping along.
His vision blurred, and scenes flashed before his eyes like revolving lantern slides—those were—
The memory fragments left by the child who "didn't want to become a monster."
The first scene showed a youthful boy carrying a backpack, heading down a tree-lined lane on school grounds by himself with his head hanging low, timed to the sound of the dismissal bell.
Beside this secluded path stood a deserted public restroom.
At that moment, ash-gray fog surged, enveloping the surroundings like a sheer veil without him noticing.
At first, the boy sensed nothing amiss.
When he finally felt something strange and raised his bowed head, he was horrified to discover that the evening sun on the horizon had vanished. The sun had turned pale, and a vivid, blood-red moon was slowly rising from the east.
Everything before him seemed familiar yet alien. The campus appeared to have aged by decades, hopelessly dilapidated, covered everywhere in withered weeds and mottled moss.
In the distant mist, a cluster of tall, indistinct silhouettes loomed.
Footsteps approached from all sides. There were many of them, closing in around the boy!
He had simply been walking home from school, yet with just one step forward, the world before the backpack-wearing boy had completely transformed!
In the second scene, inside an airtight, pitch-black secret chamber.
Only a few flickering candle flames cast their light against the wall, their jumping shadows agitated and uneasy.
A dapper, handsome young teacher wearing gold-rimmed spectacles took off his black teacher's uniform and changed into a pure white priest's robe.
"It's all right... It will be over soon."
Amidst the swaying candlelight, he looked upon the trembling children in the secret room. Flashing a gentle, benevolent smile, he snapped on a pair of sterile gloves with two crisp slaps, then picked up a black box from the table.
The lid opened slowly, revealing a thick, viscous black liquid writhing within. It was as repulsive as a blend of mucus, yet gleaming brightly under the light.
"Now—"
The priest surveyed the shivering group, including the young boy, his voice gentle yet carrying an indisputable firmness: "Drink it!"
Beside the priest, several tall men dressed in security guard uniforms stood guard solemnly in the shadowed corners.
Knotted muscles bulged beneath their uniforms. Upon their arms or necks, identical, grotesque tattoos of crimson spiders were etched, looking as lifelike as living creatures.
And then—the scene came to an abrupt halt as the priest approached.
The human brain selectively forgets extreme trauma to protect itself.
Evidently, for the owner of these last words, the subsequent details of drinking down the living black fluid were precisely that kind of memory.
"These people..."
Seeing this, Bai Zhou took a deep breath. Though his eyes lowered, the fury brewing within them surged violently and uncontrollably.
Where was that secret room?
Was this priest the "Teacher Sun" occasionally mentioned in the previous fragments of last words?
Bai Zhou was no stranger to those red spider tattoos.
Because he had clearly seen the exact same mark in the Resting Cemetery of the Special Control Bureau!
Without a doubt, they were the Major's men.
While the two preceding scenes stirred Bai Zhou's wrath, they also provided him with an abundance of valid clues.
For instance, that polished scoundrel dressed as a priest, the well-groomed young teacher.
And those "Red Spiders" disguised as security guards.
*Why were they wearing security uniforms?*
This question surfaced in Bai Zhou's mind.
Yet along with the question came a flickering spark of inspiration!
*Could it be...*
His thoughts racing, Bai Zhou's eyes gleamed as he continued watching the subsequent scenes.
The third and final memory was the last clue left to Bai Zhou by the boy who "didn't want to become a monster"—
Itchiness.
A bone-deep, heart-gouging itch!
Every inch of his body itched uncontrollably. After swallowing the black liquid, that was the only sensation the boy felt, yet he was bound and unable to scratch.
It felt as though something was about to sprout from his body, creating this excruciating itch that throbbed with swelling pain.
As this sensation transmitted across, Bai Zhou experienced it vicariously, taking a sharp breath while instinctively scratching at himself.
Then, in the vision, the terrified boy watched as a section of an arm suddenly sprouted from the back of his companion, his former classmate.
Because it was newly grown, the arm was tender pink, its skin delicate enough to break at a touch.
It even turned in a friendly, nimble manner toward the wide-eyed boy beside it, waving its hand to offer a warm greeting.
"M-Monster!"
The boy screamed in terror, his mind flooded with a single overwhelming thought: *No... I don't want to become a monster...*
*Where are the law officers? Has the school still not realized we're missing? What are Mom and Dad doing?*
*Someone! Someone please save us!*...
Perhaps finding the noise irritating, the priest fed them something else.
Soon, everyone grew groggy. Even though their minds remained somewhat conscious, they couldn't lift a single finger, left to be dragged and hauled out of the secret room like cargo at the mercy of others.
In that daze, like someone submerged underwater listening to voices above, muffled words drifted into his ears in broken fragments: "The genetic recording and collection are sufficient."
"Now, send them back to the Reflected Ruin Realm."
"...The President said they can't do without them over there."
Before long, the Red Spiders dragged these children out of the secret room one after another.
In a blur, through the boy's eyes, Bai Zhou glimpsed an extremely hazy scene.
It was a window the boy passed as he was dragged along.
Behind the glass, machinery roared deafeningly. An assembly line was lined with workers wearing identical uniforms and gas masks, tinkering with the items on the belt—
Adorable cotton plush dolls.
Yet the stuffing was being ripped out, and the dolls were being modified.
The workers seemed to be stuffing gory, mangled fragments of flesh inside, processing who knew what with practiced, mechanical efficiency.
—With that, all the images shattered violently!
Those were all the clues the boy had left for Bai Zhou.
Vision returned to the devastation of Yuanmeng Middle School, but Bai Zhou stood frozen in place.
Only when a cold gust of wind swept by did a shiver run through his body, and he drew a deep breath to collect himself.
"What I saw just now, was that..."
Bai Zhou's tone was uncertain, but his darkened gaze suggested he had already settled on an answer.
Now, he was almost certain that what he had seen in that final scene was Human Material!
An assembly line for Human Material!
"At last..."
Bai Zhou drew a deep breath.
At last, he had found it!
Heaven never disappointed those who persevered.
The place he had sought in vain for so long had finally revealed the tip of its iceberg before him.
From here, as long as Bai Zhou followed the trail, he would eventually find the opportunity to shatter that iceberg to pieces!
Slowly exhaling the pent-up tension in his chest, remembering the unbearable agony and itch he had felt vicariously, Bai Zhou looked down at the small pile of quiet cinders beside his feet.
He knelt down slowly, watching the small heap of cinders. With bright eyes, he whispered earnestly, "Thank you."
In the boy's memories, some of Bai Zhou's doubts had been answered.
Perhaps the flesh building had spontaneously taken on the form of a Red Spider because of the ritual itself.
Or perhaps it was simply because the deepest and most resentful impression each victim held before death was the image of the Red Spider!
Though they did not understand the specific significance, they knew it was the most distinct and unified hallmark worn by their tormentors!
Even that teacher in gold-rimmed spectacles had revealed the faint traces of red spider legs tattooed beneath his neck when changing his clothes.
Furthermore, the severed limbs and broken appendages that had ultimately merged into the flesh building had constantly writhed and waved about in agony, seemingly desperate to scratch at something.
Perhaps it was because that agonizing itch had remained etched deep into their very marrow!
"I feel your pain as my own."
"I accept all of your prayers!"
Tucking the Thunderous Heavenly Bow under his arm, Bai Zhou gently scooped up the cinders from the ground.
With a slight stir of his intent, Bai Zhou attempted to call upon the school's spirituality.
Yet before his call could take form, a breeze had already begun to blow through the school's sky of its own accord.
The breeze lifted the grayish-black cinders from Bai Zhou's hands, sending wisps floating into the air.
"Rest now, fellow student."
"It won't itch anymore, and it won't hurt anymore..."
Bai Zhou's inner murmur was exceptionally calm, yet laden with an unshakable resolve, a faint flame of rage burning in his heart: "Thank you for the clues you provided. I will definitely avenge you all!"
In those final moments, the dazed boy had relied entirely on his brain's instinctive recording to capture the information so vital to Bai Zhou.
Even so, it was like looking at flowers through fog or gazing at the moon through water, vague and muffled. If the boy had tried to explain it himself, he likely would have remembered nothing and been unable to articulate a single word.
Yet it didn't matter.
Bai Zhou would look, listen, and remember in his stead—and then, avenge him!
"Now."
Bai Zhou raised his head, watching the cinders swirl toward the sky, murmuring softly, "Sweet dreams."
*Whoosh—*
The wind blew on.
Wisps of cinders drifted toward the sky, like flying kites.
Yet somehow, mingling with the wind, the cinders produced a strange, brisk sound, like wind chimes, but raspy.
It seemed to say: *No need to thank me...*
*I'm the one who should be thanking you.*
The next instant.
With a soft hum!
An object dropped lightly from midair, caught in Bai Zhou's hands.
"This is...?"
A weighty item settled into his grip. When Bai Zhou clearly saw what it was, he couldn't help but freeze.
"A backpack?"
It was a sky-blue backpack that naturally warmed the heart, clearly the kind favored by younger students, adorned with a cartoon image of an adorable Totoro.
The gray-and-white creature looked part panda, part oversized rabbit—round, plump, and endearingly clumsy, sporting a grinning, mischievous charm.
Right now, the big Totoro sprawled across the backpack fast asleep with its limbs splayed out, lazy and content, its large eyes happily narrowed into two tiny slits. Its belly rose and fell gently with steady breaths, as if the Totoro were truly alive upon the fabric.
—If Bai Zhou remembered correctly, the owner of the last words, that young boy walking home from school, had been carrying just such a Totoro backpack.
It was virtually identical, save that the original Totoro didn't move...
[Slumbering Totoro Backpack]
[Hush—do not wake this Totoro. It is having a wonderful dream, and it is willing to take on your troubles as well.]
[A precious gift woven from the boundless gratitude of a young soul laid to rest, specifically designed to store certain special, intangible things, gently drawing everything into dreams.]
[Rumor has it that Dagda's Cauldron could endlessly brew delicious food and even revive fallen warriors, yet none knew what lay hidden in the deepest depths of the pot.]
[—As for what this has to do with a backpack? The Totoro's belly can store troubles, so let it brew sweet dreams for you!]
[The weaver of the backpack, a soul that has passed on, seemed to have words for you before departing—]
[—He said: "Big brother, sweet dreams to you too."]
"..."
Cradling the Totoro backpack gently, a stream of knowledge flowed into Bai Zhou's heart. It informed him of the backpack's origins and functions, but at the same time, his pupils contracted, and his heart seemed to skip a beat.
"This child..."
Bai Zhou stood silently, speechless for a long while.
To tell the truth, Bai Zhou had once believed that in this cruel occult world, resisting madness was bound to be cold, and one's heart had to learn to turn to stone.
At least, that was how Crow had taught him.
After witnessing the madness of the flesh building, Bai Zhou's mindset had grown even more detached. He had learned how deranged Extraordinaries in this world could be, and how fragile life truly was.
Yet this backpack softened the heart he had just begun to harden.
Perhaps truly formidable secret techniques did not stem from ancient legacies, and truly powerful Extraordinaries did not rely on razor-sharp blades.
The essence driving the strong to be strong—perhaps it was certain intangible things that were far warmer.
Just like this child who didn't want to become a monster. Bai Zhou had hardly done anything for him, yet the boy had bestowed everything he could possibly imagine.
"I hardly deserve this..."
Tightening his grip on the backpack straps, Bai Zhou pressed his lips together, his expression complex.
Bai Zhou had once wondered whether every gift he received after awakening his Fate Principle and fulfilling last words would become a character branded upon the Sea of Ignorance.
Later, he realized that wasn't the case.
Perhaps it depended on the nature of the one who left the last words. An existence whose life tier was not powerful enough might simply be incapable of leaving behind those unique script characters.
Yet that did not mean these special items were any less potent!
For instance, the golden-apple-flavored Alpen-despicable lollipop, in terms of sheer efficacy, was several times more powerful than Bai Zhou's "Soothe" character!
Souls were inherently the most difficult things to fathom. The final gifts offered out of their gratitude each held infinite uses; it merely depended on whether the wielder could find the right way to employ them.
It was just that most of these special items carried restrictions like limited uses or side effects, whereas characters were engraved directly into Bai Zhou's life instincts, which was why their threshold was higher.
Compared to special items, characters branded on the Sea of Ignorance had minimal restrictions and were far more convenient to use.
Both had their pros and cons.
—Of course, there was another possibility.
Bai Zhou's development of those characters was still far from complete; perhaps his own weakness was holding back those profoundly mysterious script runes.
They naturally grew alongside Bai Zhou, whereas special items did not possess such growth.
Thus, Bai Zhou's path of exploring his own abilities remained long and arduous!
Bai Zhou's understanding of these last words had always been half-baked—even now, his mastery of his own abilities might not amount to one percent!
At this point, Bai Zhou recalled the words the Principal had once spoken: *"This ritual and I have been waiting for a suitable, special candidate."*
*"—I thought such a person would never appear, just as fate has never treated me kindly even once."*
And those Extraordinaries.
They had seemed utterly stunned by Bai Zhou's ability to receive the legacy of the King of Wicked Desires, remaining half-skeptical even now, wondering if it might simply be his innate ability.
This indicated that there truly might be something special about Bai Zhou that even he himself did not know!
—Could this be connected to his special ability to perceive last words?
Thinking this, Bai Zhou shook his head and muttered to himself, "Still, only by being special enough can I accomplish what others cannot."
"Otherwise, given this rotten hand I've been dealt, I would have jumped off an unfinished building long ago."
His gaze returned to the Totoro backpack in his hands. Feeling its weight, Bai Zhou's heart grew heavy with resolve: "Bearing this weight... I will set out once more!"
Clutching the Totoro backpack, Bai Zhou found even greater motivation to seek vengeance against the Major.
From now on, his revenge was no longer just for Section Chief Liu and himself.
It was for this child, and for many others—
With that thought, Bai Zhou looked up instinctively. Crimson characters, shattered last words, and fragmented phrases were scattered everywhere across the grounds.
A dazzling, countless array.
"Everyone" was right here.
These were things only Bai Zhou could see—
Frankly, the last words of the boy who "didn't want to become a monster" were at least comprehensible.
Most of the other last words were far too shattered, disjointed, and utterly unintelligible.
Even among those Bai Zhou could understand, he had no clue how to fulfill them.
Yet only Bai Zhou understood what these last words represented to him.
With a formidable enemy looming, Bai Zhou naturally did not want to pass up any opportunity to enhance his strength.
It felt as if a mountain of gold lay before him, yet he could only sigh while looking at it, unable to pry off even a single nugget.
"Contentment brings happiness..."
Gazing at the shattered last words carpeting the ground, leaning unsteadily on his blood arrow cane, Bai Zhou could only comfort himself this way.
Yet he had a hunch—if he could uncover the truth behind everything and avenge them in their stead,
Most of these last words would naturally be fulfilled!
Yet the problem was that Bai Zhou couldn't be certain at all—
When the day came that he enacted vengeance on their behalf, would these last words still be here?
Even if they remained, would they truly be able to "witness" his revenge?
Pondering this, Bai Zhou sighed softly and slowly shook his head.
*Buzz!*
Suddenly!
As if sensing Bai Zhou's thoughts, the Totoro backpack in his hands began to vibrate.
"What's this...?"
Bai Zhou stared blankly.
Immediately after, the Totoro snoozing on the bag rolled over. An incantation drifted from the backpack, accompanied by a few adorable squeaks.
The incantation was simple, and Bai Zhou understood its meaning; it was the trigger to use the Slumbering Totoro Backpack.
Yet Bai Zhou still didn't understand why the backpack was stirring of its own accord—
[Specifically designed to store certain special, intangible things, gently drawing everything into dreams.]
Abruptly, Bai Zhou recalled that enigmatic yet profound description, his eyes widening as his breathing quickened.
"Could it be..."
He stood silently for a moment, his frail, exhausted body trembling slightly. Bai Zhou stored the Thunderous Heavenly Bow tucked under his arm into the Trojan Horse, then tentatively lifted the backpack before him.
With a sharp zip, Bai Zhou pulled open the backpack's zipper, widening its opening.
The activation incantation transmitted from the backpack was exceedingly simple, just a single word:
*Recoger.*
Its meaning was plain, and it could also be uttered with a concise syllable to produce the exact same effect.
Just as Bai Zhou did now. Holding open the backpack before the ruined battlefield blanketed in last words, he commanded—
"Collect!"
The next instant!
The backpack was awakened.
*Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!*
The earth was silent, yet continuous tremors rippled across its surface.
Countless blood-red fragments of last words rose in response, turning into a sky full of shooting stars flying in reverse.
A hundred rivers rushed to the sea; ten thousand streams returned east!
In this moment, the east wind blew open a thousand flowering trees, and stars seemed to rain down from the sky.
Right here and now, Bai Zhou's vision was completely engulfed by the most magnificent spectacle. Thousands upon thousands of last words rose simultaneously, flooding the entire expanse of the heavens.
Yet such a grand, magnificent spectacle was visible to Bai Zhou alone!
Then, the grandest meteor shower descended, converging into a flying dragon of shimmering fish before plunging like a dragon entering the sea, diving straight toward the small figure of Bai Zhou standing upon the earth.
*Swoosh! Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh!*
The next moment, across Bai Zhou's line of sight,
The hundreds and thousands of glittering fragments of last words scattered all across the battlefield—all of them—
Poured entirely into the Totoro backpack in Bai Zhou's hands!
Chapter 145