Chapter 00222: Good Night, Spring City
# Good Night, Spring City
Chapter 222
Novel: Above Destiny
Chapter 222: Good Night, Spring City
With a crisp sound as if something was crushed, a thunderous roar followed closely behind.
Blood splattered from between the fingers, shooting up dozens of meters high.
“I… I was wrong…” A choked voice emerged from the midst of the broken flesh, filled with despair. “I… I was wrong… it wasn’t me… it was… it was…”
Bang!
A massive hand struck down again towards Sido, with no hint of mercy.
Then another strike, and another!
Wrong? What was wrong!
What else could I be wrong about?!
Damn it, it’s you!
The thunderous sounds continued unabated, mercilessly ravaging until the last wisp of Sido’s residual spirit turned to nothingness.
Only then did the bloodstained giant hand dissipate with regret.
With a flick of the bone wheel, a lump of what seemed to be thick phlegm, a sign of some sinful material, landed on Sido’s remains.
You dare to call yourselves the Evil Cult?
With an evil glare sweeping across, it caught a glimpse of those who had retreated time and again, and a cold huff echoed in the air as the rift in the void opened once more.
Without a hint of nostalgia, the Cycle Saint King turned away to leave.
Ignoring the exchanges and calls of the other higher-order sins behind him, he still felt unsatisfied before leaving.
The bone wheel sliced through the air like an axe, seemingly kicking the sky itself atop Spring City, causing the ground to shake, and cracks appeared on the supports formed by the other higher-order sins.
Truly bad luck!
Evil Cult, don’t let me see you under the whirlpool ever again!
Thus, he stomped away.
Only a chaotic sacrificial site remained amidst the tremors and devastation.
Everyone exchanged glances, stunned into silence.
“What happened?”
Ji Jue was bewildered; just being glanced at by that old fellow made his hair stand on end, ready to make a run for it.
“I’m not sure,” Old Tang scratched his head, feeling like he was in a dream. “It seems after shaking him out, they beat him up and kicked at Spring City a couple of times before they left?”
This is utterly ridiculous.
Although infighting is a signature of your villain roles, you shouldn’t be so eager to perform in front of everyone, right?
Or is it that the Cycle something or other had a PTSD experience from being hurt by Mercury last time and decided to defect, wanting to learn Old Tang's ways and turn over a new leaf?
“…”
Tong Shan was the first to react, “Everyone, clean up the scene and prepare to withdraw.”
With such a big commotion, the appearance and departure of the higher-order sins meant the Evil Cult would definitely react.
Now that the storm was still brewing, it was essential to maintain stability in Spring City.
But after the chaos, they would definitely trace it back to the source.
If we stay here, we are just waiting for someone to come and harvest us.
Immediately, Xu Guan moved swiftly, carrying out several pockets for distribution as others pulled out handfuls of ash from the record books to sprinkle everywhere.
By obscuring everything that occurred here through the massive amount of event records, it was equivalent to injecting a lot of garbled data into a document.
Even if manpower was summoned to analyze it carefully later and find any traces they left behind, it would already be too late.
Meanwhile, Ji Liu and Ji Xue, the siblings, scattered gasoline and fuel about, letting the flames spread.
Everyone sighed as they worked, lamenting that they had only been in Spring City for a few days, and had already caught up to the Evil Cult in terms of obliterating evidence…
Ji Jue had already seized the central intelligence and sealed it inside Mercury with solid alchemy—this high-level controlling intelligence was most suitable for controlling large-scale devices and complex systems, which he could reference when making his own workshop in the future.
Explosives were also already buried, and with the push of a button, he could give any search team coming to his door quite the surprise.
Before leaving, he even made sure to wipe down the complex and grand altar in the underground vault.
An altar and ritual capable of supporting the descent of higher-order sins weren’t something one could casually set up with just a circle drawn in some random place; the location, resources, time, and craftsmen were all indispensable.
Now that it had been washed away, if the Evil Cult could still drag out a higher-order sin in a short time, Ji Jue would have to give them a thumbs-up for being impressive.
Such a large thing must hide plenty of good stuff, right?
Ji Jue rubbed his hands together and suddenly slammed them down.
Disintegration Technique!
In an instant, dazzling light erupted atop the altar that had already been battered in struggle, sounds of destruction echoing nonstop.
However, Ji Jue’s smile vanished from his face.
What seemed like a simple and unified altar revealed its true nature during the Disintegration Technique, finding that, like an onion, layers peeled back to reveal still more layers, each one upon another!
Countless layers of spiritual circuitry mutually embedded and overlapping, forming an unexpectedly vast structure that sparkled to life as if a switch had been accidentally pressed, illuminating the galaxy.
Even more terrifying was that such a colossal creation had formed all at once, its internal structure seamless.
If not for the external damage lingering on the verge of collapsing, he would have been unable to even graze it, entirely beyond his capacity.
At that moment, as the altar collapsed, an unprecedented torrent of illusions emerged before his eyes.
Out of the massive material fusion and gathering, hundreds of fragments crafted one by one from the furnace converged and combined.
Finally, with a mere flick of a thin, bony finger, countless sinful spiritual materials surged like a tide, converging into a delicate structure as if it were naturally formed.
So grand, yet so effortlessly executed.
As if it could hardly be bothered to invest any excess effort, it was simply done as a matter of course.
But even with how carelessly it was done, it was still sufficiently elevated.
To the point where within the few details and theories that he had ever engaged with or researched… he could not comprehend the rest at all!
Involuntarily, he trembled.
However, amidst the countless essences, images continued without pause, as if some pathway hidden in the deepest part of the altar had been activated, leading to even further visions surfacing in his view.
The darkness deep in Spring City.
In a membrane resembling a temporal ruin, bound by invisible chains within Spring City, existed a colossal ruin that had been shrouded in smoke and flames for countless years.
A massive, broken wreckage lay there, stretching hundreds of meters long, reminiscent of a beached whale leaning against the ruins.
From rot and decay, its steel skeleton and cables were laid bare.
Among myriad broken creations, a steel heart, struggling against the invasive impurities, pulsed weakly, teetering on the edge of collapse, yet still managing to keep functioning.
A vast amount of spiritual essence surged within, a slight leak causing massive upheavals in the darkness.
Each impact nearly sent the ruins tearing free from Spring City, yet they remained tethered by the indistinct chains, unable to escape.
That was an engine.
Ji Jue instinctively widened his eyes, wanting to discern further.
But the vision suddenly blurred, rapidly dissipating.
A hunched figure standing directly in front of the engine abruptly turned around as if sensing something.
On that visage, devoid of hair or features, only wrinkles remained, so ancient.
But what was most striking was that pair of green eyes.
Cold and deep, like a dark cave leading to who-knows-where, yet in the cave’s deepest part, an eerie flame surged forth!
Just one glance.
Instantly, all perception faded away.
Ji Jue stumbled back, drenched in cold sweat, as beneath his feet, the last remnants of the altar crumbled away.
Clearly, just gazing from an unknown distance in that fleeting moment made him instinctively feel that if that old man noticed him, there would be no good ending in store.
Even though they had never met in person, he was absolutely certain that this was the one who discarded the title of Master as if it were nothing and turned to dominate the arcane, the artisan…
Jian Yuan!
Even so, he found it hard to focus on that visage, for at that moment, the image that surfaced in his mind remained only that engine he had just glimpsed.
Even the symbol he was all too familiar with atop the engine…
Ji Jue stood frozen in place, struggling to lower his head and look at his wrist.
Sky Train!
Besides that, there was no other possibility.
Was there still a wreck of a Sky Train Group train in Spring City?!
“Let’s go.”
Seeing that everything was tidied up, Tong Shan waved.
But after taking two steps, he turned back in curiosity, looking over his shoulder.
Ji Jue was still standing firmly in place, unmoving.
“Hey, repairman, don’t just stand there in a daze.” Tong Shan said, “Time is precious.”
Ji Jue remained silent.
He raised his head and gazed into the corner of the vault.
Amidst the dust and rubble, a solitary dog… appeared he didn’t know when, but it lacked the usual warmth and eagerness, timidly hiding as if caught after secretly stashing bones and canned goods, having chewed on the sheets.
Its gaze lowered, its tail no longer wagging.
Standing in the corner, it looked down, but couldn’t help but sneak glances at him.
Its nose twitched slightly, letting out a silent whimper.
As if pleading.
Ji Jue shut his eyes, looked up at the sky, and let out a silent sigh.
I knew that getting mixed up with your bankrupt company would bring nothing good.
I knew damn well the dog president isn’t running over to "comfort employees" without ulterior motives…
But how big of a mess have you all left behind!
We haven’t even signed a contract, so why trouble me, a temporary worker?
“…”
Ji Jue didn’t say anything, expressionless as he withdrew his gaze.
The president hung his head, dejected.
Then, he heard Ji Jue’s voice.
In the midst of his actions, that young man kicked the incomplete corpse on the ground, turning the unfamiliar face over, suddenly asking, “Shan Ge, do you think I look somewhat like him?”
Tong Shan instinctively frowned.
He wanted to correct him, to address titles during work and plants while working, but then he suddenly understood his intentions, stunned into place.
He instinctively refuted:
“No!”
Ji Jue shrugged, “But isn’t this even better?”
“I said no!”
Tong Shan roared in anger, raising his voice: “I’m the captain, I make the decisions.”
“But I’m an outsider, one who hasn’t even signed a contract.” Ji Jue grinned, looking at him. “Besides, you also know, this clearly makes more sense, right?”
So Tong Shan fell into silence, unable to respond.
But in that too brief moment, time had run out for him to delay.
He had to decide quickly.
Suppressing a wearied sigh, he finally asked, “Are you certain?”
“Mm.” Ji Jue nodded, stripping off the scattered items on himself, piece by piece, tossing them into the toolbox. “There are some things I want to see, I must go. With the artisan's words, having a building seal is enough, right? Moreover, I might even find news about his aunt.”
“…”
Tong Shan suddenly asked, “What about identity verification?”
Ji Jue casually shook his head: “The central intelligence is right there; what’s difficult about changing it?”
“What about the impurity aura?” Tong Shan furrowed his brows.
Ji Jue grinned, withdrew a bone dagger, and the impurity aura manifested from his soul, like it was innate: “Do you think I don’t look like an impurer?”
“What about the face?” Tong Shan pressed.
“Don’t worry about the face shape; it’s pretty simple.”
Ji Jue waved the bone dagger and poked it into his face, adjusting the shape of his cheekbones and chin.
Whether it was painful or otherwise, his hands remained steady: “As for whether the face looks similar… it’s already been burned once; burning it again will do.”
Thus, Tong Shan remained silent.
A silent sigh escaped him.
Swallowing his disappointment, regret, anger, and even unwillingness.
Indeed, as Ji Jue stated, perhaps this was the best method, and moreover, he no longer had time to squander.
“…Hang in there.”
After Tong Shan put away the flagpole, he took out a box, his stiff fingers twisting the lock atop, retrieving a steel pen that appeared quite ordinary.
It seemed light and insignificant, but upon holding it, Tong Shan's hand trembled, struggling to support it.
The rebirth form manifested, pale as paper, yet a vast amount of ink-black blood oozed out from the gash in his wrist, fully absorbed by the pen until finally, Tong Shan staggered back, unable to steady himself.
The pen ceased its gluttonous craving for a moment, leaving a thin margin for its user, yet it didn’t conceal the lightly mocking wave of spiritual essence.
Then, the pen tip traced across Ji Jue’s face, bringing a piercing sting akin to burning through his soul, penetrating everything.
Ji Jue writhed, struggled, yet was firmly fixed in place by telekinetic power, unable to resist.
Until new events were inscribed from the pen tip, completing and replacing all that was old… from that moment on, the central intelligence’s records, the soul’s validation, the past written by the body, and even surface memories were entirely replaced, the so-called Ji Jue, the chosen one, vanished, replaced by a profound apprentice artisan.
“Praise the stagnation!”
Ji Jue grinned, a fanatical smile blooming, like a true follower of impurities, without a single flaw.
“When necessary…”
Tong Shan paused but ultimately said nothing; saying anything would be futile.
He could only self-deprecate with a sigh.
“Count it as a debt owed to you.”
“It’s just mutual benefit; why bother caring?”
Ji Jue removed the watch from his wrist, tilting his head back, opening his mouth, and swallow it down with a gulp before plunging the bone dagger into his body, merging with it, vanishing without a trace.
Finally, he donned a tattered black robe.
“Let’s begin.”
Ji Jue handed the toolbox over, shooting Tong Shan a final smile of farewell, “Be quick; don’t delay me from ‘turning over a new leaf’!”
Tong Shan closed his eyes.
He lifted his hand.
—Boom!
Ten seconds later, Tong Shan departed, the squad disappearing into the darkness of Spring City, and shortly thereafter, an explosion soared into the sky, the central intelligence collapsing, the bank crumbling, flames spreading.
Half a minute later, fierce light descended from the heavens, an unseen hand struck down, extinguishing all flames in an instant.
One after another, figures descended from the sky, assessing the situation, furiously pursuing the darkness, but alas, it was too late.
Rapidly, a second wave and then a third wave arrived, sweeping through the ruins before dispersing into Spring City.
When the last wave arrived, a giant hand raised slightly.
Instantly, countless rubble and broken walls shot up, tossed aside.
The remaining valuables were collected, loaded onto vehicles, and taken away.
And just before the gap in the ruins, someone suddenly froze, turning around to wave at their companion, “Hey, come here, take a look at this!”
In the corner of the floor, a figure, charred all over, seemed to be an apprentice artisan.
Both legs had completely broken, and their visage was marred with blisters, barely alive as they reached out, struggling but unable to muster any strength.
“Hmm? There's still life?”
The leading person pinched their chin, marveling: “What a lucky one, call that group of artisans over, take them away!”
At that, the dying survivor in the ruins seemed to smile faintly, patting the empty air in front of them.
They shut their eyes in peaceful resignation.
Good night, Spring City.
(End of this chapter)