In the following moments, Wei Yang eerily twisted the bell in his hand.
Countless “natives” obeyed his commands like tamed dogs, emotionlessly lunging at the “participants” with vicious bites.
Watching Wei Yang manipulate these people like livestock, observing the accumulated wounds and utterly numb expressions on the natives’ faces, an unsettling thought surfaced in Chu Tianqiu’s mind.
Was Wei Yang’s approach righteous… or evil?
He was using the already-dead to attack the dying. Since the “natives” lacked any subjective consciousness and could only act on instinct, their assaults were almost uniformly suicidal.
This was the first time Chu Tianqiu had witnessed a true “river of blood” since the “Pegasus Moment.”
An immense volume of blood flowed, gathering along the grooves in the ground to form small streams. If one listened closely, they could even hear the faint sound of trickling.
Under such circumstances… who could claim that Wei Yang stood for justice?
In his hands, people were nothing but livestock—after all, he still retained the mindset of a “Celestial.”
No… Chu Tianqiu shook his head. Perhaps the question itself had been biased from the start.
The “natives” hadn’t become livestock in Wei Yang’s hands—they had been that way long before.
At the cost of nearly ten lives for every death, the natives surged forward under the sound of the bell, tearing into dozens of people like wild beasts before the remaining “participants” fled in panic.
The gathered “participants” were, after all, a disorganized mob—leaderless, tactless. When they saw people dying, they couldn’t immediately estimate the casualties and simply assumed they were losing.
Once the first person turned to flee, the rest followed suit.
Wei Yang employed the “besiege but leave an escape route” tactic, coordinating with Qin Dingdong to encircle the “participants” from both sides while deliberately leaving them a path to retreat. The battle ended almost instantly.
After suffering such a devastating blow, this rabble—consumed by sheer terror—would not regroup anytime soon.
Amidst the soft murmur of blood flowing across the ground, the dim glow of the setting sun finally cast its dying light.
A few meters from Groundhog’s position, a glowing door slowly materialized in midair.
The door resembled a crack or perhaps a cave entrance, rotating gently in the void.
“It’s time…” Groundhog said, squinting. “Ladies and gentlemen, ‘Destiny Station’ has arrived. Please hold onto the handrails and board from the front door.”
Chu Tianqiu turned to look at the dark, swirling “door,” his emotions tangled.
Logically, “Paradise Port” had already become a negligible part of this grand scheme, yet it had still been reduced to near-total annihilation. What, then, of the other “organizations”?
Qin Dingdong stepped forward, positioning herself directly before the glowing door before turning back to Chu Tianqiu.
“Who are you taking with you?”
Chu Tianqiu hesitated, glancing behind him at his remaining teammates.
Zhang Shan, Kim Won-hoon, Glasses, Li Xiangling.
“Only one…?” His lips moved slightly, as if the choice was too difficult to voice.
Boarding the “train” could mean either “escape” or “death.”
After all, countless “Zodiacs” awaited them inside. From the moment they stepped through that door, it might be a fight to the death.
“I won’t go.” Li Xiangling clutched her injured shoulder. “My ‘Echo’ is useless—I’ve always relied on my fists and kicks. Now that I’m hurt, I’d just be a burden. I’ll wait here.”
“Alright…”
“So…” Li Xiangling slowly raised her hand, a faint aura of “conviction” resonating around her. “Do you want to see Qiaoyun one last time?”
“No,” Chu Tianqiu replied. “That wasn’t the real her.”
Glasses stepped forward as well, his right arm broken and dangling limply like a rope from his shoulder.
“I’m with Li Xiangling.” He sighed. “My ‘Immaculate’ is as useless as her ‘Manifestation.’ She survived with martial arts; I relied on cheap tricks. So I won’t be gracing this ‘grand stage.’”
With that, he placed his left hand on Chu Tianqiu’s shoulder. In an instant, the blood and grime on Chu Tianqiu’s body visibly vanished, revealing his calm but still crimson-eyed face.
“Mr. Chu, you represent ‘Paradise Port.’ You should meet the big shots looking your best.” Despite his usual cold rationality, Glasses’ voice cracked slightly as he spoke.
“Alright…” Chu Tianqiu nodded blankly, lost in thought.
“So… should I clean up ‘Paradise Port’? I mean…” Glasses pretended to adjust his glasses, discreetly wiping tears from the corners of his eyes before asking nonchalantly, “Will we… see each other again?”
“I don’t know.” Chu Tianqiu smiled sadly. “But I believe we will.”
“Good. Then I’ll tidy up the place…” Glasses said. “And maybe find Old Lü’s body. He was a friend—he deserves a burial.”
Chu Tianqiu nodded before turning to Zhang Shan and Kim Won-hoon.
If anyone could board the train, it would be these two—the only ones who could follow him to the end.
“You two—” Before he could finish, they both interrupted.
“I’m going with you,” they said in unison.
Chu Tianqiu frowned. Neither was in good shape—Zhang Shan was covered in deep cuts from metal shards, and Kim Won-hoon’s face was deathly pale, his rationality half-gone.
Boarding the “train” in this state was suicide.
“Neither of you is going.” Chu Tianqiu shook his head. “Find somewhere to recover. I’ll fight this battle alone.”
“Bullshit.” Zhang Shan flicked blood off his hand dismissively. “They’re just wounds. If I can use ‘Heavenly Stride’ on that ‘train,’ I’ll be fine in no time.”
“Same here.” Kim Won-hoon’s voice was hollow. “You said it yourself, Chu-ge—the crazier you are, the stronger your ‘Echo.’ I’m strong now.”
Chu Tianqiu lowered his head in thought before finally settling his gaze on Zhang Shan.
“Zhang Shan, you’re coming with me.” He declared. “Kim Won-hoon, rest.”
“Why?” Kim Won-hoon blinked. “Why not me, bro? Huh?”
“Because your purpose isn’t the same as Zhang Shan’s.” Chu Tianqiu said. “The reason he came here, joined ‘Paradise Port’… was for this moment.”
“I…” Kim Won-hoon fell silent, lost in thought.
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