GRMFBS CH197

Abnormal Affairs Management Bureau, Central Control Room.

Ning Xi had already received the data report from the Sky-Balancing Instrument, calculating several locations and spatial layers where the apocalypse was most likely to approach.

Frowning at the data for a long time, he said, “Get ready. We may need to activate the formation at any moment within an hour.”

At the heart of the formation, Ji Yueming wore the Tianshi robe and the thunder-patterned mask. Looking up at the sky, in a vision accessible only to chaofan powerhouses, the grayish-blue shadow grew increasingly heavy—like a water stain seeping through fabric, ready to drip at any second.

“Central node acknowledged.” She lowered her head, thunder patterns flickering at her fingertips.

Directives propagated along transmission signals.

Across the formation nodes in all four directions, successive replies echoed back:

“Node 1 acknowledged.”

“Node 2 acknowledged.”

“Node 3 acknowledged.”

…

Inside the control room, Director Yan Chu waited until every node finished reporting back before drawing a deep breath and asking Ning Xi, “Are you sure?”

Yan Chu was an anomaly among cultivators: she had never managed to achieve anything remarkable in orthodox cultivation, instead becoming obsessed with earning money and climbing the bureaucratic ladder. Since she truly excelled at this, she had climbed all the way to the position of Director. Her daily routine mostly revolved around coordinating connections and bickering across factions—a rather alternative brand of logistics.

Regarding matters of the supernatural where she lacked expertise, Yan Chu always entrusted complete authority to Ning Xi. Yet the bordering of the apocalypse was far too momentous, which was why she was seated here today.

The formation the Abnormal Affairs Management Bureau had prepared for so long served only one purpose: isolation.

Constructed in cooperation with the Wan Yao Alliance, this formation relied on this world’s world barrier. Activating it could completely isolate all contact between the apocalypse and their world.

It was an ultimate safeguard, as well as a countermeasure for that small fragment of the world lost in outside hands. If the bordering of the apocalypse brought irrecoverable disasters, they would trigger this formation to thoroughly sever any sliver of possibility.

Yet the apocalypse hadn’t even arrived yet; they still had a whole host of contingencies and plans ready, and before anything had even begun, he was already resorting to the final trump card? Isn’t that jumping the gun a bit, bro?

Yan Chu had actually been looking forward to the apocalypse bordering their world. Not a single living creature remained in that world—what did that mean? It meant a vast, unowned territory of resources!

Resources meant money!

Now, the sweet cash she had anticipated for so long was about to vanish before she could even catch a glimpse of it. Yan Chu’s heart began to ache.

Familiar with her old habit, Ning Xi glanced at her and explained, “I deduced the potential contact points for the apocalypse…”

“Hold on,” Yan Chu looked at him cautiously. “You deduced?”

Ning Xi: “My cultivation is crippled, not my brain. What’s so hard about extrapolating probabilities from known conditions?”

It wasn’t hard. Other diviners hearing those words would want to kill themselves.

“I previously deduced several possibilities using the data from the Sky-Balancing Instrument, but not a single one matches the current readings,” Ning Xi continued.

Although losing his cultivation meant he could no longer receive heavenly revelations to foresee the future as he used to, deducing future probabilities based on established conditions didn’t strictly require cultivation; even ordinary people could read cloud patterns to predict the next day’s weather.

The apocalypse was already exceptionally close to this world. The Sky-Balancing Instrument’s data was detected based on current conditions, practically yielding conclusive results; even with margins of error, they wouldn’t be large.

Yet Ning Xi had just worked backward from the results recalculated from the Sky-Balancing Instrument’s detection. This was not a normal collision course.

“I don’t know what trick Infinite pulled, but I cannot gamble,” Ning Xi stated.

Their understanding of Infinite remained insufficient; this sudden acceleration of the apocalyptic world’s approach was completely outside their projections.

Ning Xi distributed the recalculated results based on the Sky-Balancing Instrument. Since the decision had been made to activate the formation, it no longer mattered where the apocalypse bordered them. However, Rong Sui would most likely appear there, as would the dormant forces of Infinite.

His operatives placed in the black market reported that the Artisan had very likely already left the black market.

“Contact the Wan Yao Alliance,” Ning Xi murmured.

They had prepared two courses of action: besides isolation, there was reception—likewise conducted through the world barrier. The arrangements for accommodating the apocalypse were managed by the Wan Yao Alliance, but if reception turned to isolation, the Wan Yao Alliance would be responsible for pushing the apocalypse away while it was being isolated, causing the two worlds to brush past each other.

Such a formation had a limited effective duration. He needed to seize the optimal window of opportunity to grant the Wan Yao Alliance enough time to deflect the apocalypse’s trajectory. After that, the apocalypse would drift forward along its own momentum. The current Infinite had the means to pull it closer by working with the apocalypse’s inertia, but lacked the power to drag it back against the inertia of an entire world.

On the Gossip System, the countdown panel for the apocalyptic world’s collision was dwindling at terrifying speed. Yet the only person who could see it remained steeped in dreams.

In a vision beyond the reach of ordinary mortals, the grayish-blue shadow at the zenith grew ever wider.

The first to perceive the new shift was Ghost King Minghe.

Leaning beneath the Wenyu Tree, her half-closed eyes snapped open, looking toward the distance: “Death aura… but…”

She dipped her fair hand into the Ming He River, sending her message out.

Every branch and leaf on Demon King Xunmu began to quiver: “Candle Dragon’s power? Why is there so much?”

Gu Jiancheng closed his eyes; a sea of shadows unfolded across his consciousness, every location that had ever borne a shadow mark surfacing in his mind.

One place, two places, three places…

Beneath the blazing July sun, pedestrians bustled, cicadas buzzed restlessly, and even the shade of the trees was so scorchingly hot no one lingered.

Static, like scrambled television signals, abruptly erupted in the sweltering air. Scattered dust of time congealed, gradually outlining the ferocious silhouettes of monsters—beasts hailing from the apocalyptic world.

“So that’s how it is,” Gu Jiancheng murmured.

Infinite had gathered Candle Dragon’s power, using the tremors of the apocalypse’s approach to project phantom illusions of the past into the present.

“Tsk.” He rattled off a string of addresses into his phone. “These places belong to you guys. You can contact the Abnormal Affairs Management Bureau, right? Or the Wan Yao Alliance works too. Have them deal with the other sectors, and tell them to stay out of my territory.”

Zhuo Xun yelled through the other end: “Wait! Don’t hang up! Boss, which areas count as ‘your territory’?”

Gu Jiancheng: “East of the Hengduan Mountains.”

Hanging up, he melted instantly into the shadows.

Zhuo Xun stood dumbfounded on the other end of the line.

Zong Xiaoping nudged him: “Brother Zhuo, east of the Hengduan Mountains… just how vast is that? Across such a gigantic swath of land, the Abnormal Affairs Management Bureau couldn’t possibly leave it alone, could they?”

Zhuo Xun choked out after a long pause: “Badass.”

…

Zan Suiru propped up her motorcycle with one hand, projections of the past flickering and fading around her. Scenes materialized in rapid succession, shattering before anyone could clearly observe them, only to reconstitute into another. Yet they were all agonizingly familiar—familiar enough that a single glance was all Zan Suiru needed to recognize where and when they came from.

“My apologies, the arrival of past projections is completely random; your presence interfered with them. It was never my intention to summon projections of your memories here,” “Tequila” said with a shrug.

The projection was his doing, but what it cast had nothing to do with him. Bolstered by Candle Dragon’s power, this pocket of space from the past assumed the characteristics of a Candle Dragon Remnant, becoming an independent spatial realm capable of repelling anyone attempting to interrupt them.

The illusions around Zan Suiru turned increasingly corporeal.

A flash of the Hope Base, collapsing into ruins in the blink of an eye, flickering back and forth repeatedly.

A vibrant base, a battered, silent ruin.

Base, ruin. Base, ruin.

Every base was different; every ruin bore distinct scars.

Time tied knot upon knot, temporal dust piling up like heavy snow.

Zhan Yan witnessed the final knot.

It occurred twenty-six years ago.

Rong Sui had once broken free from Infinite’s loop, extending the destiny of that world.

To Infinite, this made for an unstable dungeon. Thus, at the critical juncture of the war, it chose to drain the world’s energy dry once and for all.

The pollution began.

First came the surviving flora and fauna, followed by ordinary people—beginning with those of fragile mental fortitude—and then ability users. Even psychic-type ability users capable of safeguarding others with mental barriers began succumbing to the corruption. The Lord’s mental domain could no longer shield them.

Every single one of them had been corrupted in past loops. Their souls bore the residual scars of infection. Today’s shelter could not reach across time to cleanse pollution originating from the past.

Yet Rong Sui had never been corrupted. She had always died before the taint could take root.

Thus, she could only watch.

Yang Ran was the last.

“Sister Sui Sui.” He stood within the hollow, silent base, dragging one leg with immense difficulty. He wasn’t injured, yet that leg was transforming into a tree.

He seized Rong Sui’s hand, pressing it firmly against his chest; beneath the flesh and blood lay his supernatural power core.

Clutching her hand with desperate force, he whispered, “I’m about to be corrupted…”

Rong Sui did not close her eyes.

Her hand, clasped by Yang Ran, slowly exerted force, sinking into his flesh. Amidst his trembling smile, her fingers clamped onto that fracture-riddled core amidst his blood and bone.

“If your ability brings you agony, use mine instead.”

Their hands were locked within his chest cavity.

“You will not be corrupted,” Rong Sui’s voice was hoarse.

Her eyes were completely silver-white, devoid of tears. Spilling droplets of blood fell onto his chest, blending into their clasped hands.

“I will give everyone an ending.”

Snow-white light grew blindingly brilliant, surging forth just as it once had to protect the Hope Base. A psychic storm, tempered through endless cycles of rebirth, engulfed the entire world.

Her supernatural power core shattered within her body.

Dazzling white purged the filth, tearing through corruption, tearing through rust and mire, tearing through this submerged world.

A silent detonation.

…

The shadow of the apocalypse cast a vivid panorama across the firmament.

Desolate, battered, dead—resembling a mirrored reflection of the phantoms surrounding Zan Suiru.

A speck of fluorescence glimmered amidst the rubble.

“Tequila” reached down, picking a glowing ring out of the debris: “A key ring.”

The chibi figurine attached to it had snapped off long ago, leaving only this scarred, death-steeped key ring.

“There’s a secret inside, did you know?”

Another real key ring rubbed against Zan Suiru’s palm.

“Tequila” chuckled softly, prying open the key ring projected from the past.

Hidden along its overlapping interior was an engraved line of characters:

“Peace through the years (Sui Sui Ping An).”

“Tequila” tilted his head toward the heavens.

“Look, it’s so close now.”

“What you desire is close at hand as well.”

What a frail emotion love is; it inevitably becomes everyone’s greatest vulnerability.

“Infinite?” Zan Suiru raised her eyes, her gaze cold as glacial ice.

“I’ve waited for you to appear for a very long time.”

This cunning, cautious world consciousness had finally deigned to project a wisp of genuine awareness at this moment.

Zan Suiru tore the necklace from her neck.

“Tequila” stared almost greedily at that silver cube.

It, too, had coveted the apocalyptic world’s fragment for a very long time.

Zan Suiru released her grip. The silver cube tumbled onto the illusion of the ruins, unfolding into a workshop.

Yet the workshop did not house the Infinite fragment it sought. As it struck the ground, walls rotated, structural corridors extended, and floors expanded; the workshop chamber was hoisted skyward by sprouting architecture, overlapping with that bygone room atop the high tower. The achievements of machinery and industry burgeoned outward, swelling into a full-fledged base in the blink of an eye—the Hope Base.

The Artisan’s fortress was rebuilt atop the ruins.

Gears turned, chains stretched, machinery roared.

Zan Suiru stood atop the high tower, without enclosed walls or isolating windows; the scorching sun beat straight down upon her, Xiao Ran standing faithfully behind her.

Meeting “Tequila’s” stunned gaze, she smiled softly.

“The world fragment isn’t on me.”

Blood trickled from Zan Suiru’s eyes. Under the direction of the former paramount psychic-type ability user, the overloaded manufacturing ability shattered its limitations; the fully enclosed fortress severed Infinite’s consciousness from escaping.

It was trapped within this fortress.

The living fortress unleashed a roar, locking all its hostility onto “Tequila.”

The reflection of the apocalypse hung vividly across the zenith.

Beneath the ruins, atop the fortress, she stared down at the consciousness of Infinite.

“Rather than save him, I would much rather drag him along to perish together with you.”

Infinite sensed matters slipping slightly beyond its control: “Even without the world fragment, you will suffice.”

Detaching from Tequila, it surged toward Zan Suiru: “You hail from the apocalyptic world; you are also the key to opening it.”

Central Control Room.

Ning Xi commanded: “Activate the formation.”

The mask came off, the Tianshi robe billowing without wind.

Thunder patterns wove beneath her feet, igniting node after connected node. Brilliant thunder light etched across the earth, surging into the sky to weave a net over the world barrier.

The low-hanging reflection stalled.

The cry of the Chongming bird circled through the sky; the surging demonic power of the great demons erupted beyond the world barrier.

The frozen reflection drifted slowly away.

Infinite finally recognized the omens of defeat.

Chains of steel, forged by an ability breaking past its limits, bound its consciousness tight.

“I don’t understand,” it spoke. “Doing this, at most, will only wear down a single wisp of my consciousness. Is it worth it?”

Zan Suiru did not answer; she spread her arms wide.

Xiao Ran embraced her from behind, gear pupils whirring as his mechanical lips parted: “Sui…”

The mental power once used to mend the supernatural power core gushed forth, guided by Zan Suiru to slam into the blindsided consciousness of Infinite.

Mental power dark red as blood seared a brand into its will, using it to pinpoint Infinite’s complete consciousness, echoing and spreading across its weakened awareness.

This brand held only a single function—to reject any and all incompatible worlds.

From this day forth, Infinite could never again use another world to revive itself.

The will of Infinite finally erupted in shock and fury. It thrashed violently, desperate to repel that blood-colored mental power.

Yet under a far more unyielding will, they coiled around it in a death grip.

Blood seeped from every feature of Zan Suiru’s face. Threading the key ring over her finger, she directed her mental power to tighten with all her might. Dark red mental power flowed from her back onto her palms like liquid blood.

It streamed from her fingertips straight into the consciousness of Infinite.

Zan Suiru lifted her head to look at the sky. Her home, her ruins, everything she had once loved and seen destroyed.

She clenched her fingers with absolute force, just as she had once gripped Yang Ran’s supernatural power core.

The faces of her family flashed through the depths of her heart.

Mom and dad secretly buying her sculptures, older brother backing her in fights behind the scenes, younger brother accompanying her to drink milk for months after realizing she had trouble sleeping…

Her world was already dead; let her, its sole orphan, perish beneath its skeletal remains, so that this world might flourish in brilliant radiance.

…

Zhan Yan jolted awake with a start.

Rong Sui… Rong Sui was the Artisan, Rong Sui was his sister!

Sister!!

Sister!!!