Chapter 957 Chapter 955 · "The God of War Dragon King is reborn: I am the holder of authority"

The steaming bowl was right in front of him. The **** kept holding the bowl with one hand, waiting for Su Mingan to take it.

Su Mingan has never encountered such a situation. Since the start of the dungeon, I have been watched closely by the gods, and now it has actually progressed to eating at the same table with the gods. This kind of BOSS that doesn't give him any time to develop is really difficult for him to control.

—I know you are very strong, but if the gods are directly walking with you and watching your every step, how should you respond?

Su Ming'an didn't take the bowl, and the spirit didn't move either. The two seemed to be in a stalemate until the end of time.

 “Don’t you like it?” asked the god.

There was doubt in His eyes, like a child who was exposed to colorful balloons for the first time.

Su Mingan shook his head: "It's not that I don't like broth, I don't like to see people kneeling next to me."

He originally thought that the gods would be angry, but the gods said: "Then it is up to you."

 He waved his hand, and an invisible repulsive force came out, and the people kneeling by the table were immediately pushed out a few meters. They knelt timidly, not daring to raise their heads.

Su Mingan was confused for a moment. Is this really the cold, cruel, tyrannical, and ruthless **** mentioned in the evaluation? The gods' attitude towards him was almost gentle.

However, he still did not take the bowl, and the **** also maintained the posture of holding the bowl with one hand. The two were in a stalemate for a long time again.

Until the **** spoke: "You are still very hostile to me... Li Mingyue of Daoya City, he must have made you hostile to me."

Su Mingan raised his eyes.

The spirit said: "The dream of Tao jumping from a tall building made you feel resentful towards me."

 “Xia Jiawen, who was forced to flee into the black mist, made you hate me even more.”

“Then it was Li Yuxuan from the City Protection Department who convinced you to disobey me.”

“It’s these people who make you so wary of me.”

The voice of the spirit is shallow, like a gust of floating wind. You can’t hear the specific sound, and you will forget it once you hear it.

"It's them, and it's not them. It's what you did, it's the heavy rain you brought in the world, and it's the countless drowned lambs I saw that made me unable to love you." Su Mingan said calmly. .

 “Hmm.” The **** responded.

Faint brilliance always focused on Him, making Him look more and more like a clean god. Only the slightly moving pupils between his deep brows gave him a somewhat vivid sense of reality.

 While the steam of the broth was floating, the **** said: "...But, Wen Sheng, you don't want anything to happen to them either."

Su Mingan’s eyes moved slightly.

 The **** said: "As promised, I can't hurt you, but that doesn't mean I can't hurt others. If you keep guarding against me like this, I will be angry."

 Although he said "I will be angry", the god's face remained expressionless. From beginning to end, only his pupils occasionally revealed slight emotions.

Su Ming'an said calmly: "I thought you were an interesting god, different from the messy gods I met before. I didn't expect that you would threaten me with the lives of others. It's really a shameless method."

 The spirit said: "I just want you to be less wary of me, I am not threatening you with anything."

 The actions of the gods are always very measured. He could clearly call on all believers to kill Su Ming'an, but He didn't.

Su Wensheng is right, the gods... do have very conflicting feelings for Su Mingan. He had countless ways to win, but he didn't use them. Instead, it seemed like he was letting everything go.

 The gods had already provided the steps, so Su Mingan reached out and took the bowl.

 But Su Mingan just put the bowl in front of him without eating, as if he was maintaining the final bottom line.

A bowl of broth seems to represent something heavy, appearing in the exchange and stalemate between the two parties.

"Five days have passed, and you still haven't discovered who I've turned into to sneak up on you." The **** said, "I'm looking forward to the day when you won't resist any of my orders."

 “That day will never come.” Su Mingan said.

"You are very confident. But you should know that you are just a mortal now, and it is difficult for mortals to resist the gods." The gods clasped their hands together and said slowly: "Nine years ago, your mother told me that the real special medicine for black fog disease It will appear on your hand, now, tell me where it is?"

 “…What?” Su Mingan’s eyelids twitched.

 The real cure for black fog?

Could it be that the special medicine for black fog that Zurich destroyed privately nine years ago was fake? Is the real special medicine for black fog disease now in the hands of Su Wensheng?

"I created these tragedies to lure you here." The **** said, "Your vision is indeed sharp, and you quickly identified the location where it is easiest to find clues. Now it seems that Grandma Lin's death was not in vain. At least let you start Investigate Project Ark.”

 "You..." Su Mingan's heartbeat was speeding up.

The tragedy of Grandma Lin, the reason why she suffered so much - just to guide Su Mingan here?

Her cruel and tragic fate—just to become an index?

“Isn’t the broth enough?” The **** looked at the table and found that there was only one dish. So He turned to the restaurant owner who was kneeling on the ground and said, "Serve one portion of all the dishes."

The boss was so excited that he couldn’t make a sound and kowtowed desperately. His knees kept rubbing against the ground, and he didn't dare to stand up, so he just crawled towards the kitchen with his body.

“Where did you hide the real black fog medicine?” The **** continued to ask.

"Aren't you an omniscient god? Don't you know what I've done?" Su Mingan frowned.

“I can’t know directly what happened in Daiya City,” the spirit said.

Su Mingan’s eyelids twitched again—the gods are so concerned about the special medicine for black fog disease. Could it be that black fog disease is not that simple? It is certainly not just a disease, but also plays other roles.

for example…

Su Mingan’s eyes darkened slightly, and his heart beat slightly. He suddenly thought of a very important point.

 —Forbid people to remember history?

Spicy fish, casserole, scrambled eggs with green peppers, twice-cooked pork...all kinds of dishes with full color, fragrance and flavor were served, but the tableware on both sides was still clean, as if these delicious foods were just accessories.

  “I have always found it very interesting.” Su Mingan said:

“It stands to reason that even if you burn all the books recording history, there will still be centenarians who remember what happened in the past. But the old people can’t even remember what happened when they were children—isn’t that strange?”

“There are only a dozen years of human history left, but there are centenarians in the world.”

“What caused their memory loss? I don’t think it’s brainwashing. If you can brainwash people on a large scale, no one in the world will resist you, and organizations like the Human Self-Salvation Alliance that resist fate will not be born.”

"so-"

Su Mingan put his hands on his chin and clasped his fingers together:

  “—Is it pathological?”

 For a moment, Su Mingan saw the light flashing in the eyes of the god.

 That’s amazing.

 Appreciate Yu Su Mingan’s ability to give this answer.

“In the black fog—” Su Mingan said: “There is some pathological component that can cause people to lose their memory, right? So people suffering from black fog will have trance-like memories.”

“I guess that the real cure for black fog disease can eliminate this pathological component. It makes people gradually recall their suppressed memories, so you will not allow the real cure to appear in the world.”

“So, the special medicines currently being promoted by the ‘Ark Project’ should be castrated versions—castrated versions of special medicines that only treat diseases on the surface and will not remind humans of past memories.”

“The true cure for black fog will awaken the history of humanity that you have worked so hard to erase—that’s why you want to find it so badly, don’t you?”

 Across the dining table, the gods were quiet.

 His eyes became very dark, like turbulent water. Su Mingan looked at him without fear.

Su Mingan knew that he was right.

 After a long silence, when even the people kneeling on the ground began to tremble in their legs, the **** spoke.

 “Go back with me.”

The spirit said:

 “I would like to invite you to my home.”

Su Mingan was startled, and he noticed that the aura of the **** suddenly rose. Just as he was about to speak, he felt his eyes go dark.

 …

His fingers slid over the books on the bookshelf, and the titles of "Selected Pictures of Plants and Flowers", "How to Make a Mechanical Puppy", "What is the Essence of World Games", "Mr. Qin and the Transmission History of the Life Hard Drive" ”, “Rebirth of the God of War Dragon King: I am the holder of authority”, “I really don’t want to save the old world”, “Infinite: Infinite Evolution from Birth”…

The **** lowered his eyebrows and stared at these dusty books.

These are books written decades or even centuries ago. As history was erased, these books were preserved in the abode of the gods, and no one can see them again.

At that time, countless people came forward and passed on tokens, trying to pass the past to the present, but unfortunately, no one succeeded.

 Everyone died.

 The remaining ideas and spirit of resistance have been obliterated and replaced by ignorant and ignorant beliefs. People's independent spirit has disappeared and has been replaced by group fanaticism. The gods ruled them with faith, erasing their past history.

These books are like the cemetery of people from the old days, buried here along with their idealism and spirit of struggle. Only the originators can stand here and look at the names on the spines of these books, as if they are nostalgic for the stories of these lives.

“[I don’t know how to steer a boat.]” The spirit recited the verse in a low voice:

“[But if you were on a distant seaside, I would brave the storm to look for this treasure of yours].”

He stood quietly for a moment and walked toward the door.

 “Lord God.” The woman wearing a golden ring around her neck was waiting at the door. Her expression was respectful, as if she was also ruled by some kind of fanatical emotion.

"Mizushima Kawakora." The spirit said her name gently: "How is my guest?"

 He has brought the guests back and placed them in a room that had been prepared in advance. There is a piano and several cats inside, which guests should like.

 “He passed out and is still sleeping.” Mizushima Kawakora whispered.

 The spirit passed over her and walked toward the corridor.

This is where the gods live in the human world and is also a place of pilgrimage for people. Every weekend, people kneel and sing songs of praise outside the building. It's still quiet here now, the only sound is the sound of leather boots hitting the ground.

 In the scarlet corridor, an oil painting is hung at intervals. The golden frame is like melted wax, and there is a palpable sense of unreality under the flickering lights.

"I heard someone say that he likes roses and lilies, and he is also interested in white-haired young people. Unfortunately, I don't have anyone else here." The **** murmured to himself: "Maybe I should add some fresh roses to the room. "

Mizushima Kawakora watched the god's fading figure, and suddenly said loudly: "Lord God, what do you want to do by leaving him? In two hours, the first ruins will begin, and he will be too late... "

The spirit said: "I heard that you are enemies. Are you worried about him?"

Mizushima Kawakawa said: "I... am not."

 She clenched her fists.

The spirit ignored her. He walked to the end of the corridor and opened the door.

 Under the night, the curtains were not drawn up, making the night outside the window look like a hazy gauze. The room was filled with flowers and a piano. The black-haired young man leaned against the bed, tilting his head slightly, with his eyes closed, and his expression looked peaceful, as if he had finally gotten a long sleep.

If he keeps sleeping, it may be more like relief for him.

The **** stood quietly at the door, with the faint starlight shining on his hair and caressing his jade-like face inch by inch. He didn't hurt Su Mingan, nor did he wake him up.

“…Changge, Su Mingan is asleep, you should be awake.” Until the **** slowly spoke, like a whisper.

 The black-haired young man still had his eyes closed and did not respond.

 Suddenly, his eyelashes trembled, and then he slowly opened his eyes.

 The spirit confirmed his eyes and quickly recognized that this was Su Ming'an and not Chang Ge. He thought he would sleep longer, but he woke up at the slightest movement.

Su Mingan opened his eyes, saw this strange room, and realized that he had been caught by the gods. He glanced at the clock on the wall and raised his wrist slightly, as if he just wanted to lift his hair.

 The spirit came to him and whispered in his ear:

"You are my most distinguished guest. It is quiet and safe here. You don't have to worry about danger."

 “No one can hurt you.”

Su Mingan’s eyes moved slightly, but he still hadn’t realized what the **** meant—

 Until the **** slowly put his arm on his shoulders, his voice was as light as a feather.

 “It is forbidden to commit suicide here.”

   Thank you all for your birthday wishes and congratulatory messages. Thank you very much.

 Idealists are the most ardent romance, the most moving hymns, and the warmest dawns. I will always love them.

 I love these worlds. A fresh and blazing life, a free and independent will, a brilliant and unyielding soul, a fleeting and dazzling dawn. I will tell them slowly. There is no need to let oneself rot because of being stuck in the mud, and there is no need to not yearn for the dawn because of being in the dark night.

 Born out of love, written for love. Abandon hardship and criticism and remain determined.

 It is not a delusion or a dream, but a record, a reflection of another world. I am just the recorder of "Su Mingan". I think he really exists in another civilization.

To use a term I like - our minds and souls contain a vast amount of what we feel from our own experiences and emotions, and the consciousness of each of us is a collection of memories that we have cataloged and stored within ourselves - this is A vivid private library. It cannot be fully shared with others and gradually burns away after we die.

But if you can pick out something from the collection of your inner library—and share it in writing or telling, with someone or with the larger world—then those things take on a life of their own.

 …

  —I hope to share my life with you.

 …

  【2023.6.23】

　　

 (End of this chapter)