socalfunplaces Chapter 1747 - 91: Let Me Take a Picture of You
Chapter 1747 - 91: Let Me Take a Picture of You
Zhao Yuan looked up and gazed at the sky.The palace attendants did not pack their bags and flee as she imagined. The young attendants and maids still roamed the pavilion, as if nothing had happened. Once again, she saw that little maid standing in the corridor with an incense burner, gazing at the horizon, seemingly watching the scenery.
"Ah, it’s the Photographer," the little maid looked at her and gave a pure smile.
Zhao Yuan’s expression was complex: "You know..."
"I know, many things have happened in these few hours," the little maid fully understood what transpired. Pope Hui Chi killed Emperor’s Master Hui Bi, and the World Master’s Heir ascended the throne. The first action is to draw the Holy Sword and point it at the faith of Radiant Mother Goddess they’ve held since ancient times...
"But my thoughts aren’t important. Being able to survive is what’s crucial." The little maid smiled, "Photographer, you see, no matter who wins or loses in the end, this incense burner in my hand still needs to be sent to the warehouse, or else my wages will be docked. If the sky weren’t so beautiful, I’d never stand here foolishly, I’ve got work to do."
Zhao Yuan blinked: "If the Radiant Mother Goddess won..."
"If the Mother Goddess wins, our days as attendants will remain the same! Nothing will change," the little maid said, "If Your Majesty wins, he should be able to bless us... Bless us, the believers."
No matter the sunrise or sunset, the young girl now worries whether there will still be such wages tomorrow.
Zhao Yuan paused, then suddenly smiled, raising the camera hanging from her neck: "Let me take a picture of you."
"Take a picture?" The little maid blinked, "What’s there to take a picture of me for?"
"I want to take a picture of you..." Zhao Yuan adjusted the lens, "Is it okay, Meimei?"
A trace of bashfulness flashed across the little maid’s face, and she awkwardly shuffled her feet: "I’ve never taken a picture in my life, but if you want to..."
Under the overwhelming golden sunlight, the brown-haired girl dressed in an attendant’s outfit stood with clasped hands, legs tightly together, and a face filled with both expectation and nervousness. Her bright eyes quietly focused on the camera lens, reflecting the gradually sinking sunset.
The final minute, where everything will be revealed.
Whether Su Ming’an succeeds or fails in the end, Zhao Yuan has never felt so at ease, whether it’s living or dying. In this final moment, let me take one last photograph.
The overwhelming golden sunlight bursts forth like a breach through the nearly collapsing firmament, dyeing the crimson columns of the corridor, and spreads over the girl standing at the end.
The little maid was very nervous, a few strands of hair stuck to her slightly sweaty forehead. Perhaps because it was her first time taking a picture in her life. Perhaps because the Photographer is an impressive person from outside. Perhaps because at the last moment when the sky is about to collapse, someone is willing to pause for an insignificant maid like her, to preserve her existence.
Zhao Yuan watched her through the viewfinder.
Behind the little maid was the silhouette of a palace engulfed by destructive golden light, gold intertwining with shadow, with faint outlines of huge dragon forms and towering wings battling like a mythical tapestry across the sky curtain.
Grandeur and triviality, greatness and ordinary...
Extremely opposing elements compressed within this small viewfinder.
Zhao Yuan had witnessed many shocking or tragic scenes, recorded through the lens the charge of warriors, tears of refugees, ruins of cities, grain, and vegetables... But at this moment, she couldn’t find any words to describe the stirring of her heart.
"Click."
The shutter pressed down.
"It looks great."
Meimei’s eyes brightened, glanced at the photo in the camera, cheeks tinged with a slight blush, awkwardly curtsied: "Thank you, Photographer." Then, as though suddenly remembering something, she hurriedly said: "Ah, I’ve got to quickly deliver the incense burner, otherwise my wages will really be docked!" She promptly held the incense burner and hastened away around the corridor’s corner.
Zhao Yuan watched her departing figure.
Are such people meaningless impurities?
Even though the world is on the brink of reset, even though the game might replay...
The fish in the water tank has never ceased to exist.
...
Smoke curled upwards, the door pulsated.
"Hold on for the last minute...!"
"Brother Wang, keep going...!"
The players at the edge of the abyss continued shouting desperately. The Support system players still tirelessly conveyed energy to the center of the door, maintaining the bloom of the flower domain.
But heavy fog obscured their vision, they couldn’t see, at the heart of the flowers there was already no one.
One by one, flowers, roses, lilacs, lilies... blood, fragments of organs, filth... polluted this beautiful sea of flowers.
Beyond the door, there was only empty mud and demonic energy, and the players’ relentless shouting:
"Brother Wang! Keep going!!!"
"Brother Wang, we’re waiting for you by the side to come back!!"
"Brother Wang, your favorite Brother Ming’an will be out soon, by then celebrate with Brother Chen!"
...
Elyar Sanzara Izrab witnessed a transformation considered miraculous even on a cosmic scale.
Uncertain when, they descended their main consciousness into Xiao Love, observing Su Ming’an’s process of Dimensional Ascension firsthand. Even the wisest High Dimensions find it hard to unravel the principles: how is a life with such sparse soul able to successfully digest the Demon Mother Goddess’s nourishment within ten minutes? The result can only be dissolution, can only be death, any system’s calculation would find it impossible to succeed.
But calculations differ from reality, they have truly witnessed a miracle.
The black-haired youth gradually rose, branches and tendrils spread endlessly, churning the black water sky-high, the last trace of energy belonging to the Demon Mother Goddess Isabelle, merged quietly into his body like an undercurrent flowing into the deep ocean.
Roaring, agony, the howls of heart demons, the sensation of dimension ripping... all the pain of transformation, at this moment, retreated like the tide.
The giant tree rooted in the abyss’s black water, formed from countless shining white tendrils, swaying with diamond light points.
In an instant, the giant tree began shrinking until it formed a human shape.
The features of the face gradually clarified on the jade-like visage, not like fabricating a human form, more like brushing away the dust to reveal the original appearance.
He opened his eyes.
A pair of human black eyes.
Deep, tranquil, like the night sky.
"Tap."
A soft sound as the sole gently touched the ground that had unbeknownst become black glass.
He seemed no different from before entering the Source Point. Still wearing a black coat, slightly disheveled black hair, a youthful and handsome face, even his posture hadn’t changed. He could have shaped his appearance, but he didn’t alter it in the slightest.
Surrounding furious demonic energy, remnants of golden light, twisted space ripples, all naturally calmed within a few meters around him.
He devours the Demon Mother Goddess and ascends to First Level God, experiences the Heart Demon Tribulation, gains everything transformed into the giant tree, all accruing to this moment.
He raised his hand, looked at his palm. Long fingers, no different from any other.
As a human in form, yet a god in essence.
...
"Ding!"
[You absorbed (Demon Mother Goddess Isabelle)!]
[This absorption holds potential risks, please be cautious.]
...
[You’ve gained the "Authority of Death."]
[Origin: Eleventh World·Luowasha]
[Previous holder: Demon Mother Goddess Isabelle]
[Authority description: Death is the inevitable endpoint of life, but its significance far surpasses the instant physiological functions cease.]
[You can use the power of "sight" to grant death to those you gaze upon.]
[Death is impartial to everyone, except you.]
...
[You’ve acquired the Eyes of Annihilation (Gold Level): "If the ocean is destined to breach, let all bitterness pour into my heart."]
[Type: Special body part weapon]
[Attack Power: Instant Death]
[Durability: 23/50]
[Equipment Requirement: None]
[Special Attribute [Undying Tenderness]: You are not affected by Instant Death Judgment.]
[Active Skill [Instant Death Eyes]: When activated, your eyes turn pure black, and all life you gaze upon will continuously receive Instant Death Judgment. If the judgment is successful, they will die immediately; if it fails, they will suffer a certain amount of Darkness Series damage. No cooldown, no consumption. During activation, you are also subject to this judgment. (The success rate is inversely proportional to your understanding of death)]
[Special Attribute [Day of Birth]: Carrying this object enhances your existing abilities related to birth and soul. (Enhances your "Soul Ferry" skill)]
[Soul Ferry (Enhanced): You can condense and store others’ emotions and memories in your mind, and use their weak abilities. Only effective upon their death. (Additional enhancement: Besides emotions and memories, you can absorb others’ "stories" and residual souls, transforming them into a part of what you already have. No need for enemy consent.)]
...
A pitch-black eye representing "Death", a red tongue representing the authority of "Devour", and a white key representing the authority of "Faith" appeared together.
"Su Ming’an, are you okay..." Aria wanted to speak, but Su Ming’an didn’t pause at all. He seemed to be rushing to catch the last train, so eager that he didn’t even have time to look back.
Su Ming’an dashed out of the door with a swift step, only to face the final question.
People entered through doors and were greeted with questions; now as he was about to leave, he was also sent off with questions.
Colorful sugar cubes rotated in the sky, and two paths unfolded before his eyes. The door on the left was engraved with: [Saint], and the door on the right was engraved with: [Sinner].
A question followed:
...
[Fifth-to-last question: Do you consider Alger a saint or a sinner?]
...
Without hesitation, there was no time left, Su Ming’an immediately rushed towards the right, to "Sinner".
Rushing through the door, two paths again unfolded before him, still with the left door engraved [Saint], and the right door engraved [Sinner].
...
[Fourth-to-last question: Do you consider Si Nian a saint or a sinner?]
...
Su Ming’an immediately rushed towards the door on the left.
Rushing through the door, the new question appeared:
...
[Third-to-last question: Do you consider Hui Mo a saint or a sinner?]
...
Su Ming’an frowned tightly, his footsteps halted; he truly had no clear answer to this question.
Suddenly, he noticed a figure rushing over too!
It was an old believer of the Radiant Mother God!
When Su Ming’an came over, the followers of the Radiant Mother God had followed. They adhered to the creed of "protecting him" to the utmost, even as he became of High Dimensions.
The old man gazed at him devoutly, calling him "Divine Son", and rushed through this door for him.
In an instant, the door turned bright red, the old man let out a heartbreaking scream, and gave Su Ming’an his final words:
"Divine Son... go the other way!"
"We... will pave the way for you!!"
In the next moment, the old man’s figure vanished, returning to silence. The devout believers continued to follow beside Su Ming’an, protecting him as they moved outward.
"Divine Son, please proceed forward!" A young believer in a white hood, appearing no more than seventeen or eighteen, immediately said.
"Divine Son, please proceed forward, we will escort you out to the very last moment." A female believer, roughly in her forties, clasped her hands together.
These people had no idea that his departure was to defeat the Radiant Mother God they most believed in. Without faith, they were just ordinary people. Faith had turned them into this, making them risk everything for a foolish command.
Su Ming’an rushed through the doors.
...
[Second-to-last question: Do you consider Kritchens a sinner among saints, or a saint among sinners?]
...
"This..." The believers were surprised; this question was too offensive for them.
"Of course, a saint among saints!" said one believer.
But Su Ming’an had no time to hesitate; he only paused slightly before rushing to the right.
Through the door, the final question slowly emerged:
...
[Final Question.]
...
[Number One Player, Lighthouse, Su Ming’an.]
[—Are you a sinner among saints, or a saint among sinners?]
...
...
["Su Ming’an chose to move forward... I know many do not understand, the forum is in an uproar. They think he forcibly extended the progress of the World Game, hindering their way home, saying he is trapped by the ’Savior’ mentality, dragging down the majority for the minority... If we, this time, give it our all to cooperate with him, to uncover that ’lid’... but finally fail, change nothing, and so many die... then what are we?"]
[Yamada Machiichi paused, his voice softer, filled with confusion:]
["A hero... or a sinner?"]
...
"Clatter..."
Yamada Machiichi uncovered the one hundred and thirty-seventh arm protecting him.
With a soft "click", the arm fell off the high platform, its forest-white bones fractured, and its owner was long gone.
He lifted his head, red rain washed over his makeup, his tears had long dried.
The high platform had long lost the appearance of a stage. It was like an altar repeatedly drenched in blood. The marble floor cracked and shattered, seams filled with dark red blood water, indistinguishable from mud.
Bodies.
Layers upon layers of bodies.
Centered around Yamada Machiichi’s tottering figure, they spread outward in a radial pattern. The innermost circle was Xi Ting, Xi Ge... these powerful reinforcements. They fell in various postures, some back-to-back, some facing outward, some even maintained a forward attacking stance, some still breathing. They formed the first shield of flesh and blood.
Outward, the second circle.
Those who escorted Yamada Machiichi back and resolutely stayed to the death were players. Cyrus’ enormous body knelt on the ground, arrows embedded in his back; Cynthia leaned against a scorched vine, her abdomen pierced by it; Erwin lay among pale bones, eyes closed...
And more, players whose names Yamada Machiichi couldn’t fully recall. They came from different countries, different guilds, possibly competing and clashing in usual times, but now they piled up together in a tragic manner, using their bodies to build the second low wall.
Further out, the third circle, the fourth circle... everywhere the eye could see, to the edge of the high platform and into the distant blurred by rain, were countless fallen figures. There were players, and there were the Luowasha people, dying after losing themselves. Many interwove, indistinguishable from one another, forming this concentric circle together.
...Not a single person could stand again.
Except for the "clown" still slightly wobbling at the center.
The players who escorted him back, those who rode on cranes shouting "Return". They knew that after returning, the most dangerous would be those who must hold the ground to protect Yamada Machiichi. But they stayed. Using skills, weapons, bodies, layer by layer, circle by circle, like ants catching fire, rolling into a ball and dying scorched one after another.
Yamada Machiichi was breathing so weakly, almost unable to stand, sustained solely by his will.