Chapter 00131: The Dusk Has Passed
# The Dusk Has Passed
Chapter 131
Novel: Above Destiny
Chapter 131 – The Dusk Has Passed
It is said that facing this unprecedented terrifying threat, the governor first exploded in rage—then he grew angry once again, and then several more times.
In short, he was furious.
Very, very furious.
But before he could vent his rage, the power armor was already gone.
After he crushed several of Thunder Radiance’s chosen ones under Lei Yaoxing’s command, he hadn’t even had time to run away before the military’s rapid reaction force, urgently deployed from the Haizhou garrison base command, swept in.
No prisoners were taken.
There was no communication or any process of persuading surrender.
The only order sent by the command center in the Haizhou garrison was simple—[Execute].
At the sound of the order, a combat squad equipped with four Hurricane-class power armors descended from an airship that had burst through the clouds, landing from the sky.
They even shredded the defiant man and his trendy mismatched outfit into pieces not bigger than a palm, evenly scattering them throughout a radius of three hundred meters.
Only one head was left, placed right in the center of the ruins.
It was a demonstration to all ill-intentioned ones of the fate awaiting those who cross the line.
It is said that after Tongshan returned from the governor’s mansion, his face looked more ghastly than ever before.
And though Lu Shenzhou, head of the security bureau in the South Slope district where the incident occurred, said nothing, one of his team members had just posted a “Moments” message.
The background was that gym—claimed to be the largest in Cliff City—and the subject of the photo was a towering pile of weight plates.
Each weighed twenty kilograms, and stacked together they reached over two meters high.
They had all been smashed into a mushy mass in a fit of furious wrath!
The imprints left plainly behind.
One can only imagine who Lu Shenzhou had in mind while venting his fury on those things.
Faced with this gradually spiraling dark war, all sides are about to lose every bit of patience they once had…
["Sister Wen told me to tell you: just stay calm, don’t show off, or stir up trouble. It’ll be over in a few days."
"Okay."]
Ji Jue replied, accompanied by a GIF of a rose emitting a soft pink halo to show his compliance.
After shutting his screen, he looked into his own solemn reflection and couldn’t help but let out a sigh.
It was so tiring.
Glancing back at Chen Yubai in the living room, happily calling for his cat “mia~ mia~” without a care in the world, Ji Jue felt a sudden burst of unnamed anger.
He almost wanted to march over, kick him, and shout, “You little brat, I’m your father! Even if you are my own flesh and blood, behavior like this is unacceptable. When you crawl out of this mess one day, remember to show some filial piety! If even one incense is missing from your ancestral tablet during the holidays, I’ll come over and teach both of you a lesson!”
“What’s wrong, Old Ji?”
Noticing his complicated gaze, Chen Yubai turned around in confusion.
Ji Jue forced a kindly smile and shook his head, indicating, “Dad’s fine; you go ahead and play.”
Only later did he understand that a father’s hardships and tears must be borne alone.
“By the way, Brother Ji Jue, why don’t you charge money for this?”
In the temporary workshop in the garage, Xiao An, who was playing with his phone behind Ji Jue, suddenly asked, “Brother Ji Jue, you’re clearly short on money, aren’t you? Dad once told me never to lend money to the chosen ones of the Ember, no matter how much. It’s like a bottomless pit—no matter what you give, it’s never enough. Besides a thank-you, you wouldn’t hear a word of gratitude.”
“Eh?”
Ji Jue, taken aback, turned around.
For a moment he wasn’t sure if he should correct Xiao An’s “mistaken” impression of the Ember’s chosen ones or answer the question first.
Even from the strictest moral perspective, at a moment like this—when Ji Jue risked his own safety to save Chen Yubai’s life—it would be perfectly acceptable, even right, to charge money.
No matter how much, it wouldn’t be too much.
As long as he spoke, he could even take half.
And if he demanded the full amount… knowing Chen Yubai’s character, with some proper pressure, using trust and skillful words, a little extra effort might achieve the goal.
Such a huge inheritance, at first glance the number would be staggering—a sum enough for one to spend lavishly all his life without ever running out.
But in truth, should it be used for practical matters, it would be like a drop in the bucket.
It could barely cover the down payment for an entrusted order of a workshop built for Professor Ye.
Nowadays, building a highway in the city costs far more than this.
If Ji Jue really wanted money, he wouldn’t go through all this trouble.
He could just sell part of the priceless materials he had brought back, or even offer a basic course on fluid alchemy worth tens of millions or even hundreds of millions.
There were plenty of Ember chosen ones out there ready to pay the price.
But unfortunately, the former involved his future in alchemy while the latter touched upon his academic research, his papers, and even the key to becoming a master.
Not a single penny of that he was willing to risk.
And this money was tied to Chen Yubai’s life.
“You know, Xiao An, trust can be very fragile sometimes, yet doubt is a powerful thing,” Ji Jue said with a sigh.
It’s easy enough to make people believe that a poor kid, whose shoes have holes, stole something.
But convincing them that the child is innocent is much harder.
Even if you lay the truth out before them, they would only sneer.
Then, they would continue pinning the label of “thief” on that innocent kid until he rises to an unreachable height and, looking down in disdain, those shadowed ones lose the courage to question.
Or, better yet, let him starve in a winter snowfield—quicker and simpler.
Doubt is absolute.
Doubt requires no evidence, no clues—especially when even that fragile trust is built on mere gossip.
That is why he had Chen Yubai donate his entire inheritance.
A donation receipt was posted by the Chongguang Church, so that everyone would believe he had nothing left.
The larger the number on that receipt, the better—more was better.
But it must not be less.
Even a single penny less than the full amount would raise suspicions that he was secretly pocketing more.
For someone like Chen Yubai who was small-minded, helpless, and utterly unable to resist pressure, that would be a calamitous disaster.
In the years to come, his life would be plagued by endless misfortune.
“Hmm… I don’t quite understand.”
Xiao An blinked in confusion, “Even if he dies, it doesn’t matter, right? After all, I’ve only met him once or twice.”
“Though I would hate to admit it, he was, I suppose, my friend… wasn’t he?”
In the end, Ji Jue wasn’t even sure.
Laughing at himself, he said, “I don’t really care about his money. Besides, he once treated me and my family to a meal and even took the little one to watch cartoons. Now the little one sometimes asks why his older brother—the one who likes that blue-haired lady—isn’t coming around. If a friend asks for help and, because of my own fault, I end up causing his death… Xiao An, you’d look down on me, wouldn’t you?”
“I don’t know.”
Xiao An shook his head decisively, saying neither yes nor no.
Just as always, he didn’t worry about hypotheticals or “what-ifs.” His likes and dislikes were obvious: those he liked he would get close to; those he rejected, he would stay away from; those he hated, he would warn against; and if someone caused trouble—he’d deal with them firmly.
That’s why he couldn’t understand.
“In any case, when a friend needs help, we do our best!”
Ji Jue smiled and patted Xiao An’s shoulder. “If you ever need anything from me, Xiao An, I’ll work even harder—I’ll go all out! When I get stronger, I’ll first help you pull out that thorn, and as for life’s goals… we’ll take our time—ten, twenty, thirty years to figure it out. And if by then your sister objects, then I’ll fight your sister alongside you!” He flashed a big thumbs-up and said, “Guaranteed win, boss!”
Xiao An remained silent, staring blankly at him as if frozen in place.
Soon, he lowered his eyes and looked away, murmuring, “Thank you, Brother Ji Jue.”
“…”
Ji Jue’s expression twitched.
What was going on? That ambiguous atmosphere was becoming more and more off, and it made him blush in an odd way! He quickly averted his gaze again, burying himself back in his work.
Yet he couldn’t shake the feeling of prickling unease, as if someone was still watching him from behind—so he dared not look back.
He focused intently on manipulating his own spiritual essence.
Under the interference of Fei Gong, the bullet on the control panel faintly took on a layer of gold.
After a simple fluid alchemy operation—to purify it, strip away impurities, enhance its material properties, and infuse spiritual essence in order to operate—the bullet was finally ready.
Inside, with a simple spiritual energy circuit etched around an insignia of entropy, once it hit the target its heat would be released in an explosion to create maximum destructive force.
The struggle of contradictions is endless.
Faced with defenses that are harder and thicker, what Ji Jue needed now was an even bigger, more powerful cannon! In fact, the simplest way to increase the bullet’s lethality would be to make the entire bullet into a blessed creation, combine it with a specific blessing, and then, upon shooting, unleash the complete destructive power of the blessing at once… But alas, such an extravagant practice that would cost everything was something Ji Jue wouldn’t even dream of.
At the national level, careful selection for perfection was the order of the day.
One blessed item after another was chosen from the best of the best, and finally, supervised personally by the Ember’s master craftsman, the processes of ascension, purification, extraction, coordination were executed to produce a lethal weapon capable of leaving eternal scars on a celestial being.
Not to mention, even if Ji Jue’s current level and finances could somehow manage such bullets, none of the little Karamis in the wasteland would be qualified to use them in the field.
Throughout all of Cliff City, perhaps only the governor appointed by the central city government was a worthy target for such a headshot.
But thinking about it was rather exciting.
After all, that damn governor had done nothing but pocket money since he arrived, never doing any good.
Perhaps someday, given the chance, Ji Jue would send him off to sharpen his skills.
But for now, it was time to keep grounded.
“小 An.”
He tossed the bullet behind him.
Xiao An caught it, but then paused, as if about to speak and then held back.
“What’s up?” Ji Jue asked, puzzled.
“Nothing, it’s just that recently, during the stage of sword qi condensation, the spiritual essence hardly radiates. There’s no way to help it out,” Xiao An said, holding the bullet with a hint of disappointment in his voice.
Ji Jue was momentarily taken aback, then smiled. “It’s fine, just a little problem. Even without sword qi enchantment, there are other methods.”
When the time was right, after checking via the security camera that Xiao An had gone to watch his TV show, Ji Jue finally opened the box tucked away in the corner.
He peeled away layer after layer of sealing until at last he revealed the deepest contents—a pile of jet-black substance, resembling charred coal.
This was what remained of that accursed mutated chosen one.
Originally, after the blessing was extracted, by procedure, Professor Ye was supposed to toss it into a hazardous waste incinerator to be completely burned into ashes.
Those ashes would then be mixed in with a processing solution.
After the reaction was complete and enough ash had accumulated, it would be sent off to a specialized institution for total annihilation.
But Ji Jue insisted on taking it for himself.
Professor Ye gave him a long, deep look, as if sensing his ulterior motive, and simply said, “My stuff, my responsibility,” and left it at that.
What use is this demonic thing—tainted by the nine calamities and brimming with sinister aura—if not used to harm others? Protecting world peace? Please.
One couldn’t let kids see such despicable deeds, not when it would tarnish Brother Ji Jue’s “magnificent and heroic” image.
Besides, if a note were ever scribbled saying “Brother Ji Jue is frugal to a fault; he saves even enemy corpses to make bullets,” wouldn’t that cause quite a scandal?
“Now, it is time for you to give out your final spark, old friend.”
Ji Jue rubbed his hands together, a gleam flickering in his eyes.
Next, let him witness the true power of me, the genius craftsman Ji Jue—
He extended his right hand, pressing towards that pile of debris in mid-air.
Then he commanded,
“—Cousin, come out to me!”
The finest materials often only require the simplest of treatments.
After a whole day of busy preparations, Master Ji began crafting bullets for the enemy.
What he intended to use was the residue left by that mutated chosen one.
More precisely, it was the cursed remnant soul trapped by Professor Ye deep within the debris.
Under the influence of the nine calamities, amidst distorted and uncontrollable blessings and maddened lunacy, the chosen one’s soul and flesh underwent irreversible transformation, corrupted completely.
All that remained was this broken, contaminated fragment of spiritual energy soaked in the stench of the nine calamities.
It had no consciousness, no ability to think, nor any chance of recuperation.
Left unchecked, should ordinary people get hold of it, who knew what kind of demonic thing might eventually be birthed from its pollution.
Such dangerous material… if not put to use, would be a downright waste.
Smack!
At the moment Ji Jue’s palm made contact with the debris, a crisp cracking sound resounded in the air, accompanied by the strange explosive sound of spiritual essence shattering.
The moment of contact, the eerie aura that had been dormant within the debris seemed to come alive, swiftly trying to flow upstream along with the spiritual essence injected by Ji Jue, attempting to invade his very soul.
Yet it couldn’t break through the blockade at all—it was completely trapped within the spiritual essence cage that Ji Jue had carefully woven.
Fei Gong’s manipulation of spiritual essence was like a one-way valve, only allowing Ji Jue’s spiritual energy output.
And at that instant when the blockade was opened, a long-forgotten pop-up from “Cousin” began flashing frantically:
[Warning, Warning, External mutated spiritual essence detected.]
Then, as Ji Jue’s spiritual energy completely activated the dormant corrupted aura, a new pop-up appeared:
[Extract?]
Accompanying the turning of Ji Jue’s thoughts, an attraction far beyond what he had imagined emerged from his wristwatch.
Layer upon layer of intricate spiritual energy circuits expanded, seamlessly integrating into Fei Gong’s matrix—almost as if the two were one!
The cracking sounds continued one after another.
At a speed visible to the naked eye, the carbonized fragments rapidly crumbled until, finally, they turned into a heap of pure white ash.
Countless strands of jet-black aura emerged from the rising spiritual energy, gathering and settling between his five fingers.
But this time, Ji Jue did not let “Cousin” extract away all of the corrupted spiritual energy.
Instead, he reversed the process, forcibly using Fei Gong to intercept and inject every last bit into a pre-prepared mercury carrier.
It was unclear whether it was due to his increased authority as a chosen one or the effect of Fei Gong, but under Ji Jue’s interference the wristwatch suddenly stopped working, ceasing its attempt to claim that portion of the spiritual energy.
All of the corrupted spiritual energy was, by Ji Jue’s method of “ascension,” guided into the dormant mercury.
In an instant the mercury rippled, as though it were alive and writhing, struggling as if to break free from its lifeless, soulless shell and escape.
But then, without mercy, Ji Jue shoved it all into a furnace that had been preheated for quite some time.
—Purification, begin!
Boom!
At the moment when the purification phase of fluid alchemy began, an abrupt burst of spiritual energy fluctuations swept up a wild gust inside the cramped space.
The light bulb overhead shattered in response, its glow flickering.
Soon followed a sound akin to a shrill, mournful scream—grating friction rising sharply out of the raging flames, as if possessed by ghosts lamenting in despair, the agonized wail of the dead.
The corrupted spiritual energy was utterly ignited!
The core of fluid alchemy is to allow the outward form to approach its true essence.
As the mercury gradually transformed to align with the corrupted spiritual energy, intense disturbances and eruptions began to manifest continuously from the liquid.
Even the second-hand furnace violently trembled, unable to withstand the turmoil.
Had it not been for the isolating spiritual energy circuits Ji Jue had established on the outer layer, the clamor might have awakened everyone by now.
With both hands on the furnace’s control panel, Ji Jue pushed Fei Gong to its fullest.
To prevent the corrupted spiritual energy from eroding him through sensory feedback, he dared not even call upon mechanical divine descent.
Corruption refining is an extremely dangerous and complex field—often even masters who have studied it for years cannot predict what may occur during the process.
Ji Jue felt as though he had opened the gates of hell.
Endless wails and lamentations emerged from within the flames, and the furnace trembled violently—like someone inside frantically beating on the hot furnace door, trying to climb out of hell.
But soon the wails turned into fragmented murmurs, as if someone were calling out Ji Jue’s name—strange yet familiar, carrying a hair-raising temptation, sweet yet hoarse.
Then, in a silence that followed, there seemed to be faint echoes of crying, too soft to make out clearly.
Finally, even the crying faded away.
Only then emerged a piercing, anguished shriek—rising endlessly before dissipating into the metallic ringing.
The spiritual energy was completely consumed.
The flames died out.
Only then did Ji Jue exhale, collapsing onto the floor as sweat poured down his face.
If it weren’t for Fei Gong’s absolute control over spiritual energy, several times he felt that he had completely lost control.
If that had happened, either the furnace would have exploded, or he himself, or even the furnace, himself, and half the villa would have been blasted into the sky.
This was alchemy—the pleasure was in the danger and thrill.
Now, even the furnace had gone completely dark.
After a brief inspection, Ji Jue found that the internal spiritual energy circuit was completely broken from overload; only the outer shell remained, practically scrap.
His sole achievement was the eerie scarlet substance slowly flowing out of the container at this very moment.
Drop by drop, the mercury—completely merged with the corrupted spiritual energy—had turned the color of fresh blood.
It rolled on the operation table as if it were alive.
On each drop, one could faintly see faces that might be howling in anguish or raving in madness.
Even the occasional contact between two drops emitted high-pitched sizzling sounds—as if they were devouring one another—until at last they merged completely into one.
“Is this what they call [Massacre]?”
Behind his thick mask, Ji Jue murmured in a lost voice.
Like the rancid furnace, this eerie existence—classified among the nine calamities—was born of countless massacres, ravages, enslavements, extinctions, and deaths.
At this moment, right before him lay nothing more than a minuscule remnant of corruption—a mere wisp infected by one of the countless projections of the Massacre.
Yet it still made his very soul tremble, uncontrollably.
As he methodically infused the substance drop by drop into the bullet and applied a seal, the pressure and fear he felt were far more intense than when synthesizing and extracting explosive incendiary agents.
The latter might only result in one’s own explosive end; this, however, would leave his enemy in a state of indescribable agony!
“Hehe, hehehe… hehehe…”
When Xiao An knocked on the door calling Ji Jue for dinner, all he saw under the flickering, dim light was that eerie, maniacal figure—and, on the table in front of him, a handful of strange bullets.
They looked plain enough, merely having undergone basic alchemy, but when one got close and tried to touch them… an icy dread enveloped the body!
“What is this?” Xiao An leaned in and inspected them curiously.
“A gift,” Ji Jue smiled warmly, delighted. “Some gifts prepared for my visitors.”
Just like any host who has made thorough preparations, the moment he wrapped the gift, he couldn’t help but imagine the look of surprise when it was unwrapped.
He truly hoped they would like it.
Drip—drip—
In a sickroom filled with the lingering scent of disinfectant and silence, only the monotonous noise of a machine reverberated.
And amid this long, tiresome echo, the rhythm of the noise shifted ever so slightly for a moment.
On the hospital bed, Chen Xingzhou’s fingers suddenly trembled slightly.
Then, they trembled just a bit more…
Over a long span of time, they slowly yet persistently clenched, as though gathering every ounce of strength to grab onto an invisible thread—climbing upward relentlessly—from the depths of hell…
Ding—
At the end of the corridor, the elevator doors slowly slid open.
A nurse pushing a trolley stepped out and slowly walked towards the sickroom.
The trolley’s wheels creaked, leaving behind intermittent, bloody red tracks on the floor…
Outside the window, neon lights flickered in the deep night.
(The chapter ends)