Chapter 214: Memory Deep Within

"You only get one chance. Answer my question incorrectly or refuse to answer, and I will kill you."

"I just waited normally on their way home from work, knocked them out one by one when no one was around, then borrowed a cargo van and came here... Don't worry, no one noticed me along the way."

"...Xiao Zhuo, I need to ask you something."

"Exploiting? No, this is called 'cooperation'..."

Familiar scenes flashed before the figure in red. People and events he had encountered before rewound with flickering light and shadow, like watching a film of his own life.

The figure in red's gaze swept over the surroundings, and he instinctively stepped forward, walking deeper into the vortex of memories.

"Not here... further back."

He muttered to himself.

As he continued to delve deeper into his memories, more images emerged... He saw himself wearing the "Lin Yan" mask, fighting to the death with Jian Changsheng; he saw himself standing alone in an empty warehouse, performing a frantic monologue to Wen Shilin, who was hooded; he saw himself standing at the front of a train, watched by countless eyes, burning to ashes amidst flames and playing cards...

He was like an audience member, observing his own life.

Just then, he felt his steps suddenly grow heavy, as if something was dragging him from behind.

He abruptly turned back to look, only to see countless dark hands emerging from seemingly nowhere within the swirling vortex of memories. They began tearing at the memory fragments behind him, while another wave of hands directly grasped his theatrical robe. Behind these hands, pairs of crimson eyes were crowded together, filled with rage and madness!

The audience was preventing him from reviewing his memories!

Seeing this, the figure in red's pupils constricted slightly. He hadn't expected that these "audience members" could interfere even when he was searching his own soul. Without hesitation, he quickened his pace, trying to break free from the hands grasping him, and rushed deeper into his memories!

"I don't know why Aurora City calls you a heretic, nor why they are so determined to kill you... After this shot, you are dead, fallen in battle against the calamity."

"Light the torches; they will come because of them."

"In the name of the Thief God of Finality, the Silver King... you will all die here."

The light and shadow of memories rapidly rewound before his eyes. He seemed to pass through the blazing train station again, and smelled the fragrant feast of roasted chicken. He stood upon the corpses strewn across the ancient Hidden Path of Blades, welcoming his own death with a dagger;

Not enough... still not enough!!

His speed grew slower and slower, and his large red theatrical robe seemed to be stretched to its limit. He gritted his teeth, tore off the entire garment, and sprinted forward at his fastest speed.

The large red theatrical robe was instantly engulfed by countless black hands, but this did not slow them down in the slightest. They had already torn apart all the white mist they passed through. The hands surged forward like a tide, and some had even climbed onto his body.

"What is in the depths of my memory?! What makes you so desperate to stop me?!"

Crack—!

He moved his body with difficulty, restrained by the hands, his furious voice mixing with the rumbling thunder!

His feet landed on the deserted, waterlogged street, splashing fine droplets. The torrential rain poured over him, and the biting cold felt like invisible steel needles piercing his body... His vision was hazy and blurred by mist.

He was back in that rainy night, the rainy night when he first gained memories.

His body had never felt so heavy, as if carrying thousands of weighty souls; even taking a single step was incredibly difficult... A dense mass of black hands silently reached out from behind him, gently covering his body and face... like demons from the abyss, slowly obscuring his desperate and struggling eyes.

In his vision, the street on that rainy night stretched endlessly into the pitch-black distance... That was the place his memories had never reached.

"Get lost!!!"

His body was gradually submerged by the black hands. Even so, he struggled wildly, his half-obscured eye fixed on the darkness ahead, which was the ultimate truth he sought.

The foot, hovering precariously in mid-air, suddenly dropped!

Sploosh—!!

Water splashed, and the surrounding street cracked inch by inch.

The mysterious darkness extending to the end of the street suddenly engulfed him, and a fragmented memory began to flood his mind!

At that moment, he felt completely weightless, floating like a phantom in endless void. An unprecedented loneliness and pain tore at his consciousness... He tried to open his eyes but failed; it was as if he had lost the ability to see.

Even so, he could still vaguely discern his surroundings. He could sense endless raindrops falling from the sky, seeping into the blood-soaked soil, and beneath that soil lay cold, lifeless corpses...

A mass grave?

Had he returned to the night he was abandoned?

He quickly deduced his current time and location. At this point in time and space, both Chen Ling and Chen Yan were buried in the mass grave, his own soul traveled from the past, the Grey World descended and merged, and a world-ending calamity should have also entered his mind then, along with that mysterious theater...

Too many things happened at this specific moment, and this, perhaps, was the origin of everything.

Just then, everything in his perception suddenly warped. This memory fragment was inherently disjointed, and now it flickered like an old television screen, abruptly jumping to the next complete memory fragment.

The next moment, he was still within the mass grave... but now, there was another person in front of him.

A person??

He was stunned. According to his conjectures, at this point in time, either corpses reviving or a world-ending calamity descending were possible, but a person should absolutely not be here... Who was he? What kind of person would appear at such a critical juncture?

He couldn't make out the person's appearance. In his perception, the only thing clearly visible was the large red theatrical robe the other person was wearing.

"Have you made up your mind?" the person slowly asked.

"Once you embody his 'role', everything between the two of you up to this point will swap: identities, backgrounds, relationships... You will completely become him, allowing him to achieve resurrection in another sense... And in return, you yourself will cease to exist."

"You..."

"Do you truly want to become 'Chen Ling'?"