CR CH57

Chapter 57: Break and Rebuild

Beep… beep…

System notifications and real-time combat analytics rapidly popped up on his equipment interface with every movement, his score points climbing exponentially. Jiang Tianji’s eyes never strayed.

It had been a very long time since he last felt such intense emotion toward Liang Chong. Most of the time, he felt so indifferent it was as if this person had completely vanished from his world.

Yet facing each other was like looking into a mirror—each reflecting the side the other least wanted to reveal to the world.

Pfft.

The short blade plunged deep into the core at the side of the medium-sized mutated entity’s neck. A layer of electrical arc wrapped from the side of Jiang Tianji’s neck all the way down his right arm. A stone-canine monster pouncing from behind had barely stepped into his attack range when its energy core was shattered by a spiraling electric discharge.

The shared red dots on his device map blinked. Jiang Tianji moved toward the nearest cluster of crystal cores, only to realize it was his initial landing point.

Swarms of mutated entities were spawning from the black mist. Massive, serpentine long-worms coiled around surrounding buildings, casting giant shadows over the ground. Medium and small entities clustered tightly around the carousel, seemingly drawn by some localized energy source.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted several figures rushing toward the area. Due to the overwhelming density of the horde, everyone temporarily halted their advance, waiting for their squadmates while seeking cover to observe the situation.

Only a single figure scaled a nearby rooftop, bloody red energy surging directly toward the long-worm—Jia Yun had never possessed much of a concept for teamwork.

Sweat beaded heavily on his forehead. Having been knocked to the ground by the long-worm’s counterattack, he lost his patience. Crimson energy swirled violently around him as he prepared to execute the final kill—until a dark shadow sped over from a distance, carrying corrosive energy with the blatant intention of stealing the kill.

“Fuck!” Jia Yun swore under his breath, his body flickering as he re-entered the fight.

The two energy forces collided, the murky black corrosive energy holding a distinct upper hand. Just as Jia Yun was mentally cursing the opponent’s entire bloodline, a sudden flash of brilliant white filled his vision. Devastating electric currents demonstrated the absolute limit of speed, instantly shattering the mutated entity’s energy core.

[Score +20]

Jiang Tianji glanced at the device display and slowly wiped the short blade clean.

“…”

After a brief moment of silence, Jia Yun looked over at Liang Chong, whose face was dark with anger, and burst into a triumphant laugh.

As more squad members gathered around the perimeter, Jiang Tianji and Liang Chong jumped into the swarm of mutated entities almost simultaneously. Taking a moment to gloat, Jia Yun lagged half a step behind.

Various elemental energies collided, triggering localized area-of-effect explosions.

The blinking red dots on the radar went out one by one. The domain’s energy grew unstable, flickering as it overlapped with real-space coordinates.

Silver-white energy rounds rained into the horde from various positions while awakened members fought at close quarters inside the inner ring. Though the mission rank wasn’t particularly high, it pressed these newly awakened users—who were still in a post-awakening recovery phase—close to their absolute physical limits.

Shoo.

A mutated entity attempting a sneak attack from behind was killed in a single blow. Out of the corner of his eye, Jia Yun caught sight of that familiar figure. Perhaps still riding the high of watching Liang Chong eat dirt earlier, he offered a rare acknowledgment:

“Thanks.”

His scimitars, wrapped in blood-red energy, forced the surrounding monsters back before he turned to glance at Jiang Tianji.

With a single look, Jia Yun’s brows knitted tight.

Jiang Tianji’s energy state was unstable. Electrical currents flickered wildly around his body, yet he himself had largely abandoned using ranged ability attacks, relying instead on the dagger in his grip to precisely puncture entity cores.

His movements were fast and surgical—not wild or unhinged, but deeply restrained. Yet the tighter he held back, the harder it was to conceal that ruthless, venting edge beneath the surface.

Jia Yun raised an eyebrow, indifferently pulled back his gaze, and threw himself back into the fray.

The amusement park scenery distorted continuously as the core crystal flickered in and out of sight nearby.

With the mission reaching its final phase, spatial energy ripples distorted visual lines. Mutated entities faded and materialized along with the shifting space. Lacking experience, several squad members suffered injuries from failing to read their true positions.

The stronger members made a direct dash for the central crystal core, but only a handful kept the lead. The raw mutated energy radiating from the source made it nearly impossible for those with weaker talent to advance a single step further.

Reflecting various energy glows in his eyes, Jiang Tianji kept his gaze locked on the crystal core. The chaotic noise in his ears suddenly vanished, resolving into a single, high-pitched screeching hum.

He hovered his hand directly over the core, blinding electric light condensing at his fingertips.

The moment the lightning touched the core, his device emitted a piercing alarm:

“Values Exceeded — Mental Interference, A-.”

Phase-2 Mental Interference. Energy levels spiked exponentially.

Unexpected anomalies occurred occasionally in combined missions; certain spiritual bodies would unleash high-tier mental interference in their dying moments. However, the impact was usually minimal—residual energy could no longer sustain a domain or spawn new entities, so members simply needed to wait for backup.

Losing its power source, the mutated horde began to dissolve into nonexistence.

Yet the squad members who had been fighting moments ago suddenly froze in place in a eerie unison. Silence settled over the surroundings.

A Phase-2 high-tier mental disturbance: even the mental-type members were swept into a psychic vortex due to their lack of field experience, their consciousness swallowed in a split second.

The cheerful music warped, stretching out and slowing down until the notes rasped like a chainsaw dragging across heartstrings.

Thick, blood-like hues flooded his sight, accompanied by a sudden, overpowering stench of iron and gore. Jiang Tianji’s brows creased tight; his throat worked as he forcefully suppressed the urge to vomit.

The operating carousel ground to a halt at an unknown moment. The scene flickered through broken fragments, settling into an image preserved inside some memory fissure:

An old, abandoned amusement park.

“Hahaha… hehehehe…”

Children were laughing merrily, running around near a slide while Jiang Tianji crouched nearby, petting a stray cat.

He loved innocent, pure children. Standing in line for the slide, they would suddenly remember to keep their voices down mid-chatter, putting fingers to their lips in a quiet “Shh.” Staying around these kids always brought a strange, profound peace to his heart.

A chaotic consciousness yanked relentlessly at him, forcing a flood of images and voices into his mind.

In one moment, he felt like an detached bystander; in the next, he believed he truly lived inside this world.

Familiarity and strangeness bled into each other; an uncanny wrongness lingered, inescapable and overwhelming.

Waves of vertigo washed over him. Jiang Tianji’s frame swayed, and he tumbled backward.

The world collapsed and shuddered, only to reassemble through shifting illusions. The expected weightlessness never came.

A punch cracked against the corner of his mouth. Instinctively, he reached out to grab onto something, only for his collar to be seized in a tight grip.

“Don’t act like you know me so well! I just didn’t save him—I didn’t harm him either!”

Carried by momentum, both of them crashed onto the ground. The teenage Liang Chong was backlit; Jiang Tianji couldn’t make out the expression on his face.

“You and I aren’t any different.”

Liang Chong’s voice still retained a hint of youth, but the hatred and malicious satisfaction within it cut like a blade—not just slashing at Jiang Tianji, but pushing Liang Chong himself to a cracking, unhinged pitch.

“The only signal your parents left before they died was a set of genetic data transmitted to the Federation!”

“Do you know why Commander Jiang went to a D-Class planet? She was originally with the Inter-Star Intelligence Bureau—she was the one who submitted that signal to her superiors!”

“Nobody in this world loves you. You thought you were talented? Thought you had a good mother?”

“Look at what you have left now! Friends? Family? The only ones who’ll stay by your side are the stray dogs and cats on the street—because all of you are unwanted strays!”

“Even your own parents didn’t love you. They didn’t name you for the first two months after you were born; they just left behind a serial number! They didn’t leave a single thing related to you, and that signal wasn’t a distress call—it was genetic data!”

“Affection? You think Commander Jiang’s love for you is pure? Sure—at least you’re growing up into whatever tool they expected you to be.”

“I am so glad I found out about all this. The thought of you living your whole life without a care in the world makes me utterly sick. What gives you the right?!“

“The thing I regret most in my life is teaching you my hobbies! All those materials were organized by me—I was the one who made you interested in them! What right do you have to compete with me?!”

“Yes—I am thrilled right now!”

“I can fly freely. With my family’s support and my friends’ care, I will fly further and higher once I step out of this academy. But you have to fly—you have no choice but to fly! That is your sole reason for existing! That is your only worth!”

Jiang Tianji listened to his hysterical voice. Liang Chong wasn’t having an easier time than he was.

A lunatic. There were plenty of lunatics like him.

Adults always underestimated the malice of children, believing them to be inherently innocent.

And they were right—children were pure, which meant when seeds of evil sprouted in their hearts, they grew far faster than they ever would in an adult.

If weighing consequences and second thoughts could nip most evil in the bud, then in soil that was too clean, those sprouting evils would never die naturally.

Without external intervention, that patch of land would rot, breeding monsters more deformed than the last.

A hand clamped down on his throat. The air he drew grew thinner and thinner. As his vision plunged into darkness, he heard someone calling out:

“Ji… Tianji.”

He opened his eyes. Bright overhead lights filled his vision. Standing before him was a chubby-cheeked boy.

He wore a tailored miniature suit, his hair slightly curled. The boy had posture far beyond his years, staring at him with a dead-serious expression.

“Hello, I am Liang Chong. You can call me Brother or Brother Liang.”

“Hello, Liang Chong.”

“Mm.” Liang Chong bit his lip, wrestling with his words. “Um, I’m older than you, so you can call me Brother.”

“I don’t want to.” Jiang Tianji tilted his head in confusion. “Can’t I just call you Liang Chong?”

“I… suppose you can,” Liang Chong stammered, his face flushing slightly. “It’s just… manners…”

Jiang Tianji wasn’t listening. Spotting the desserts on a nearby dining table, his eyes lit up, and he grabbed Liang Chong, dragging him forward.

“Liang Chong, I’ll take you to eat something delicious!”

“No, we can’t run… slow down! This isn’t proper…”

The world before his eyes warped and dissolved; all color bled away.

In that vast expanse of nothingness, he kept running forward until everything turned pitch black.

“Mom.”

The moment the voice echoed from the dark, his breath hitched. Instinctively, he turned and ducked into a corner.

Yet the teenage voice—trying so hard to sound composed—still rang clearly in his ears. He closed his eyes, but the scene materialized vividly in his mind anyway.

He was like a helpless bystander. Wanting to hit pause only made him realize that deep down, he had never been ready to face any of this.

Inside the study, the young boy held his hands behind his back. After a moment’s hesitation, he gathered his courage and asked:

“Do you really just see me as a weapon?”

Jiang Tianji had been well protected. He was candid and decisive, resembling Jiang Yan closely in that regard.

The question had been asked smoothly enough, devoid of overly sensitive or fearful emotion.

Even after wrestling with it alone for so long, trying out countless variations of the question during late-night hours, he had chosen the most direct one when he finally stood before Jiang Yan.

Because he had never entertained another answer. Backed by confidence and self-assurance, the question was an honest query.

He had imagined Jiang Yan frowning and asking him why he would say such a thing. He had imagined her getting angry and telling him to get out.

He had imagined she might simply say no in a flat tone without further explanation.

He had even imagined the best-case scenario—where she might lean down and stroke his head.

But he had never imagined that Jiang Yan would remain silent.

In that single instant of her hesitation, Jiang Tianji felt as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over his head, leaving his hands and feet cold as stone.

There were no tears, no dramatic heartbreak.

It was just that in that split second, the expectation and confidence in his eyes drained away. The two of them stood facing each other for a long time before Jiang Yan finally noticed the tears slowly welling in his eyes.

“Tianji, I didn’t treat you as…”

She seemed taken aback herself, hastily trying to explain, but the boy cut her off.

“It… it doesn’t matter.”

The teenager’s tears and voice refused to obey him. He sobbed in broken hitches, his chest heaving violently.

“Tianji.” Jiang Yan walked over, her expression conflicted. She raised a hand wanting to pat his head, but after a second thought, her hand froze mid-air and pulled back awkwardly. “I…”

His thoughts tumbled into complete chaos.

That day had felt like an apocalypse reserved exclusively for him. The real world’s sun rose as usual, but his world drifted further away from reality; the sun, stripped of warmth, caused the sprouts within his heart to wither and die.

The world in his eyes mapped out a different reality.

Uncle Liang smiled refinedly, patting his head: “Little Tian, do you still remember Uncle Liang?”

He lost all composure, roaring at Jiang Yan: “Betting on a person’s humanity after they grow up isn’t as reliable as raising a pet, Jiang Yan!”

…

Liang Chong carried him on his back along the road, sighing: “I told you not to run so fast. Look, you fell. We have to disinfect it when we get back.”

“It hurts so bad! Ah! What are you hiding for?”

Liang Chong ducked around a corner with Jiang Tianji on his back, whispering: “Shh! I saw Uncle Lin. If he tells my dad, I’m dead meat.”

“Oh… Brother, your clothes got dirty. What do we do? Should I go back and grab a fresh set for you?”

“Don’t call me Brother every time you get into trouble! I never want to hear that word again…”

His voice was dripping with hatred, tearing their bond into ragged shreds.

“Look at what you have left now! Friends? Family? The only ones who’ll stay by your side are the stray dogs and cats on the street—because all of you are unwanted strays!”

…

“Tianji, you will save more people, just like me.”

“Mom, do you really just see me as a weapon?”

“…”

…

All the voices and visions merged into a raging whirlpool, dragging the boy straight into the abyss.

He developed a profound skepticism toward this world. Falling from high above, he shattered into tens of thousands of jagged pieces scattered across every corner of time—and every incomplete version of himself stood lost, asking a single question:

—Why?

The heart that received no answer turned numb. His crying never ceased—like a newly deceased organism whose life functions had ended, yet whose muscle tissue still twitched in desperate spasms.

“Mom, I…” The boy’s voice trailed off.

“I just wanted to tell you… even if you do, it doesn’t matter.”

Having said that, he turned and ran outside, deaf to the calls echoing from behind.

And Jiang Tianji could finally run away as well. Their figures overlapped. The teenager ran into the sunlight while the shadow beneath his feet expanded relentlessly, blackness shutting out the final rays of light as his frame grew taller, stronger, and more powerful.

The boy had grown up, yet he still hadn’t found himself.

Jiang Tianji dropped to his knees, unable to run another step.

He breathed heavily, his hands pressed against the ground, letting out a muffled, choked sob.

“Ugh… ghk…”

That sob mixed with a strange, ragged gasp, like that of a suffocating man.

A tear ripped through the darkness, allowing blinding sunlight to strike his eyes.

Jiang Tianji instinctively wiped at his eyes, only to touch bone-dry skin.

He froze, then suddenly let out a laugh.

Rain fell in that moment—striking his head, his spine, his shoulders—everywhere except his eyes.

The person beneath him coughed violently, hearing that laugh and chuckling along with it.

“I told you… you’re no different from me. You’re the lunatic… you’re… cough, cough!“

“I’m fucking sickened by you! I’ve hated you since the very first day we met! It should’ve been like this all along! What right do you have to compete with me? What do you have? You have… ugh, cough… nothing…”

Straddling Liang Chong’s torso, Jiang Tianji reached out and clamped his fingers around the man’s throat. The puddle on the ground reflected another scene where their positions were reversed.

A raindrop fell into the water, shattering the reflection. It was impossible to tell which was reality—or perhaps both were real.

The sound of compressing bones made his teeth ache. Liang Chong’s face turned purple from lack of oxygen. At first, he continued to sneer, forcing his lips to spell out “pathetic” even without breath.

Until his consciousness began to fade, reflecting Jiang Tianji’s face in his eyes—an expression entirely different from what he had imagined.

There was no pain, no grief, no distortion. There was nothing at all.

It was strikingly calm, yet that very calm made him look like a true, unhinged madman.

For no apparent reason, a bone-chilling cold washed over Liang Chong’s rain-soaked back, and a single thought surfaced from the depths of his mind:

—He actually wants to kill me.

His strength bled away, his body thrashing violently beneath him, but the hands choking his throat remained rock steady. Even as Liang Chong hovered on the brink of death, those hands didn’t loosen for a fraction of a second.

Steady, and slowly tightening further.

Jiang Tianji stared down at his face—the most pathetic state he had ever seen Liang Chong in.

He watched terror and disbelief bleed into the man’s eyes bit by bit, all prior confidence completely shattered as Liang Chong thrashing in an ugly struggle.

“Ah—!”

It wasn’t until a sharp scream pierced the air that he looked back, catching sight of a group of children staring in utter horror.

Holding their jackets over their heads to block the rain, they had apparently been heading home when they stumbled right into this scene.

Jiang Tianji instinctively released his grip and stood up. The children scattered in a panic, fleeing while crying out in fear.

He stood in place, his head lowered as he thought:

I should feel anxious, remorseful, or something… anything.

Yet no voice or answer came from deep within.

In that dead, heavy silence, the rain falling on his body merely felt a little cold.

He watched himself retreat into a corner untouched by the harsh white light, sinking completely into the shadows.

The shadows seemed alive—a mud-like palm reaching out to pull him entirely into another world.

A strand of blue luminescent light flickered across his vision. Jiang Tianji opened his eyes as a harsh glare fell into his cold, indifferent gaze.

Like a wild beast, he pinned the person before him to the ground, pressing his dagger against the man’s throat.

“Jiang Tianji.”

It was a familiar voice—calm to the point of being deeply reassuring.

With that single call, noise rushed back into his ears, and the world snapped into clear focus.