Chapter 1012: Fictional Actor

Author: Sanjiu YinyuWord Count: 1284

A pair of hollow eyes slowly opened in the dim light.

Chen Ling lay flat on the theater floor, his spread-out crimson theatrical robe resembling an eerie, blooming flower. After processing all the confusion in his mind, he slowly and stiffly rose, like a zombie, weak and without strength.

His gaze swept around. Pairs of mocking, scarlet eyes stared at him from the darkness of the audience seats, just as always.

Under the pale light, his messy black hair cast shadows on his face. He gave a desolate smile.

Chen Ling had never truly existed.

From the very beginning, he was part of the Scorn, an unremarkable "audience member." His personality, his memories, everything he believed himself to be, was merely a "character" crafted by the Red King.

The Red King had endowed him with self-awareness, successfully instigating an internal conflict within the Scorn Disaster. As long as he remained on stage, the "Chen Ling" persona would control the entire Scorn Disaster, transforming it from a world-ender that no one could defeat into a living human being.

"Transforming a 'world-ender' into a 'human'; turning the Heavenly Enemy of the Theater Dao into a disciple under his own tutelage..."

"Master... Teacher... or, the Red King..."

"What a... masterful scheme."

Chen Ling's dry, cracked lips curved slightly. He looked at everything on stage, alternating between laughter and tears, as if insane.

How should he view the Red King?

Was he a "father" who gave him self-awareness and saved him from the bitter sea of being an audience member... or an invisible hand that saw him as a mere pawn, manipulating his destiny?

Chen Ling didn't know... He truly didn't know.

The time he spent in the Ancient Theater Repository was once his most cherished memory. In this era, only that place had offered him a sense of security.

His senior brothers taught him the secret arts of the Theater Dao, and his master taught him how to "paint crimson," enabling him to maintain his self amidst the冲击 of the Scorn. Chen Ling was deeply grateful to the Red King. Even though he wasn't Chen Yan, the one who originally became a disciple then, in his heart, he had truly recognized the Red King as his master, a true teacher.

But now he realized that everything the Red King had done seemed to have an alternative explanation.

Having Chen Yan become his disciple, tying himself to the Ancient Theater Repository in advance; letting himself go to the Ancient Theater Repository when confused, and teaching him to "paint crimson"—all these actions were merely to ensure that the persona capable of controlling the Scorn Disaster would gain a greater advantage and thus remain constantly under his control.

Disciple or pawn, Chen Ling could no longer distinguish.

But it no longer mattered.

After all, everything about him was fake: he was fake, his family was fake, his past was fake, the divine path was fake. Did it matter if the Red King's attitude towards him was genuine or not?

After all, he was merely a fabricated construct.

Creak—creak—

Chen Ling stepped onto the stage floor, step by step, the faint creaking sounds starkly clear in the dead silence.

His crimson theatrical robe swayed under the spotlight. Like a soulless puppet, he slowly walked to the edge of the stage. Ink-like darkness, resembling an abyss, enveloped the surroundings. Pairs of expectant scarlet eyes, like a surging tide, gazed at him.

If Chen Ling were to take one more step forward, he would leave the stage and fall into the abyss.

Once the "Chen Ling" persona voluntarily abandoned the stage, all the other "audience members" would frantically rush onto it, and the true power of the Scorn would be unleashed.

Within one minute, the King of Silver would be left without a burial place.

Within three minutes, the Wuji Realm would become a forbidden zone for life.

The Scarlet Sovereign of the Ghost Scorn Abyss would descend upon the human world, all remaining human realms would be shrouded in the gloom of death, and even other disaster zones within the Gray Realm would tremble in its presence.

This was not an illusion; this was a future that would truly happen. Chen Ling clearly understood that the Scorn Disaster, once freed from his restraint, was fully capable of achieving this.

It was the King of World-Enders, the absolute strongest entity across both worlds.

It was no exaggeration to say that the fate of humanity, its very survival, rested at this moment on Chen Ling's single thought.

But similarly, this time he would never be able to return to the stage. Everything belonging to "Chen Ling" would be lost forever; he would forget everything and once again become one of the countless "audience members."

This time, not even the Red King could save him.

"...Let it be destroyed."

Chen Ling closed his eyes wearily, like a wanderer trekking alone through a forbidden desert zone, exuding despair from soul to body. Life and death no longer mattered to him.

He was too tired.

The sleeves of his crimson theatrical robe spread open under the spotlight. Just as Chen Ling was about to take that step, a voice urgently rang out beside his ear:

"Wait!"

It was Yao's voice.

Chen Ling subconsciously stopped. He had almost forgotten that another soul existed within his mind.

"If you jump now, you'll never be able to turn back," Yao's voice was utterly serious.

"Whether your past was real or fake, everything you've experienced since becoming 'Chen Ling' has been real, hasn't it?

Zhao Yi, Han Meng, Xiao Jian, Wen Shilin, Aurora Lord, Huang Suyue, Liu Qingyan, Sun Bumian, Jiang Xiaohua, Chu Muyun, Bai Ye... In their eyes, you are Chen Ling—a flesh-and-blood Chen Ling!

Your existence is not meaningless...

A created actor can still have a life of their own."

In Chen Ling's mind, one familiar face after another flashed by. In his hollow eyes, a faint spark of life, named "hope," flickered.

He lowered his head and stood at the edge of the stage for a long time, then spoke hoarsely:

"...It's different."

"How is it different?"

"I am the 'world-ender,' they are humans." Chen Ling paused. "From the very beginning, we were opposites... The 'me' they knew wasn't truly me."

In everyone's eyes, Chen Ling was just Chen Ling, but the current Chen Ling clearly understood... he was the Scorn Disaster itself.

Humans and world-enders had always been mortal enemies. Once they knew he was the Scorn Disaster itself, everything might change. All of Chen Ling's genuine feelings and experiences from the past had become fake, and he didn't want to experience being betrayed and abandoned by everyone again.

"What if you are a 'world-ender'? Will you kill them?"

"I..."

Chen Ling looked at the dense, scarlet eyes before him, eyes filled with pure malice and mockery. He slowly shook his head, "I don't know..."

"I think you need to give yourself a chance... and give this world a chance," Yao said patiently.

"Perhaps, things aren't as bad as you think."

Chen Ling fell silent.

He stood at the edge of the stage, a faint glimmer flickering in his dim eyes, like a drowning man desperately searching for a vine to grasp.

He was searching for a reason... a reason for even a fabricated Chen Ling to live.

Wild fantasies hadn't helped Chen Ling find a reason, but Yao's words offered him a glimmer of hope. Perhaps things weren't as bad as he thought.

After an unknown period,

Chen Ling slowly took half a step back.