“Wu wu, wu wu.”
“You’re so damn noisy… shut up…”
“Wu wu, wu wu.”
“……”
If one warning wasn’t enough for the other party to quiet down, Bai Ya had no intention of wasting more words—he’d simply take action to solve the problem.
“That’s odd…” Bai Ya struggled for a long time before finally opening his eyes. Since when did it take so much effort just to lift his eyelids?
His mind still muddled, he propped his forehead with his hand and sat up from the cold ground. Only after the chaotic thoughts in his mind settled, did he let out a breath and start to assess his surroundings and search for the source of the girl’s sobbing.
The last thing he remembered was being killed in a counterattack by the Ghoul. His forehead took a punch—it felt like his whole skull was about to shatter. In an instant, consciousness fled, leaving him no strength to fight.
Guess he lost. Even if he fought again, the result would be the same—what a disgrace.
But since he was still alive, maybe things weren’t as bad as he feared. With that thought, Bai Ya glanced around, his pupils narrowing to pinpoints. What lay before him was simply unbelievable!
“This is…” Bai Ya’s mouth dropped open in shock. He was surrounded by endless darkness. The ground beneath him was nothing but a tangible void.
Only where he stood was there a faint glow. Beyond that, it was as if his vision had been swallowed by a beast of darkness—nothing could be seen. Add to that the unceasing sound of weeping in his ears… what kind of horror story was this?
“This is so weird, ah le ah le, really weird, just so strange.” Bai Ya scratched his white hair expressionlessly, then took a couple of steps forward. Wherever he went, darkness was dispelled, but once he left, the light would be swallowed up again.
So he was basically a human-shaped mobile light source, wasn’t he? He chuckled inwardly at the thought, shoved his hands in his pockets, and headed step by step toward the origin of the crying—the only sign of life here.
How had the battle with the Ghoul ended? Where exactly was he now? What sort of situation was he facing? And—why had he returned to his old self?
He’d noticed while scratching his head that his hair was short again. Add to that his unmistakably male voice and the familiar white shirt and ripped jeans, and even without a mirror, he knew he was back to his original form.
Maybe he could get some answers from the girl who was crying. Though the atmosphere was rather creepy, ever since he’d met the Goddess of Creation, Fia, Bai Ya had grown used to bizarre encounters. Now he just wanted to know—what exactly should he do to make things right?
He couldn’t see anything in the darkness—there was no sun or moon overhead. Maybe there wasn’t even a sky at all. But at least the sobbing gave him direction, so he didn’t get lost. After who knew how long, he stopped, letting his light scatter the darkness before him.
A white-haired girl, hugging her knees and crying, appeared in his view. She wore nothing but a baggy, yellowed robe, just enough to cover the essentials.
Bai Ya glanced around to make sure no one else was there—it had to be her crying.
“Hey, quit crying.”
“Wu wu, wu wu.”
“If anyone should be crying, it should be me.”
After offering this comfort, Bai Ya sat down behind the white-haired girl, his left knee bent upright, hands resting at his sides, gazing up at the darkness above. He took a casual, relaxed pose. At some point, their backs pressed together, as if leaning on one another.
After finding someone, what was he supposed to do next? Bai Ya realized his mind was blank.
After listening to the sobs for a while, Bai Ya finally spoke, his voice full of loneliness.
“I guess, maybe… I probably died, huh? Otherwise, I wouldn’t have turned back to my old self. Everything’s over, right?”
“Wu wu, wu wu.”
“You have every right to cry. Even though I had the strategy in my grasp, in the end I couldn’t change the tragedy. I let you down. Left you utterly disappointed.”
“Wu wu, wu wu.”
“Bai Ya Ifiel Chlorom’s life ends here. This is the greatest mistake of my life.”
Bai Ya hugged his knees like the white-haired girl. Maybe that would help him feel a bit more at ease. Right now, he didn’t know what sort of emotion he should show—should he weep, should he rage, should he be angry or hate? If any of those would reverse this miserable ending, he’d gladly do it.
He could clearly feel the girl’s small body trembling. Letting a girl face despair and grief—this kind of unbearable guilt, he would simply accept.
He’d taken her life in his hands, only to screw everything up. He really was a sinner.
He wanted to play the hero, but in the end, couldn’t finish like one. This was his incompetence.
He’d taken up responsibility, boasted and promised, but ended up letting everyone down. It was all his fault.
“But wow, you really can cry, huh.”
Bai Ya pulled a handkerchief from his shirt pocket and handed it to the girl behind him. She didn’t take it, but he didn’t take it back either, letting it drop from his hand.
“Game mode… time for a reboot.” Bai Ya muttered to himself, stuck out his tongue, parted his lips, and bit down hard.
Bai Ya wasn’t trying to bite off his tongue and end it all—his gaze was deadly serious.
His strange actions were simply to activate his game mode! To temporarily suppress all the fear, despair, and anxiety inside! To leave behind only his wild ambition for victory!
This was his undefeated secret weapon! The trump card that had gotten him through all kinds of crises!
Bai Ya wasn’t ready to give up just yet!
Game mode was essentially button regression.
It was a method mastered by top athletes. When faced with immense pressure, they’d trigger a “button” to self-hypnotize, temporarily suppressing emotions like fear and anxiety, leaving only the excitement and fanaticism needed for victory—a spiritual reset!
And Bai Ya’s “button” was biting his tongue.
As pain shot through his tongue, a glint appeared in his crimson eyes. He pushed himself upright by his knees, grabbed the white-haired girl’s arm, and yanked her to her feet. Staring at her tear-stained, delicate face, he took a deep breath and shouted:
“SHUT UP ALREADY!!!!!!!”
“Is crying all you can do?! I risked my life in your place and nearly died for it! You’re not satisfied? Got complaints? Then shut up already!”
“Stop making noise while I’m trying to figure things out! My name is Bai Ya, courtesy name Invincible, title Unbeatable, nickname Mad White! I will not allow a shameful defeat like this to stain my record! I’ll keep breaking my back to clean up your complete mess of a life! Leave it all to me! Un-der-stand?!”
“Wu wu, wu wu.” The white-haired girl nodded tearfully, biting her lower lip, her expression pitiful—making Bai Ya feel like he was bullying her.
This was the original—Bai Ya Ifiel Chlorom. Bai Ya had no idea why he was meeting her in a place like this, but he had no intention of letting her blame his incompetence!
After making absolutely sure she wouldn’t cry again, Bai Ya pushed her to the side to sit quietly. He scratched his head and sat cross-legged, running through all possible solutions to their predicament in his mind.
“First, I need to figure out how to get out of this hellhole… Am I really dead? I didn’t know you could still feel pain after dying…” The pain in his tongue, triggered when he entered game mode, was impossible to ignore. That made him doubt whether he was actually dead.
So where the hell was he now? Someone tell him already, geez.
Somewhere Bai Ya couldn’t see, the white-haired girl wiped the tears from her face and smiled softly.
He’s truly a wonderful person, she thought. Even now, he didn’t give up—he stayed true to his path, so different from the girl she used to be.
Now that he had passed the trial of the heart and been recognized by the will of the bloodline, he could take hold of this power.
The white-haired girl’s form began to dissolve, shrinking bit by bit until finally, she transformed into a gently glowing sword-shaped sigil.
“I-It’s not like I can’t do anything. I can sing, you know…”
Just as Bai Ya was pondering how to solve their predicament, a boundless light erupted before him. In an instant, the darkness was completely annihilated—he almost went blind from the brightness!
It was as if invisible pianos, trumpets, drums, and other instruments began to play around him, forming a passionate and stirring accompaniment. The beautiful voice of an unknown girl sang a hymn of hope in his ears.
The broken hero rises once more.
A burning heart forges brand new courage.
Shattering the darkness, ushering in the light.
Hope, gathered together, awakens a new miracle.
Always believing, always believing,
Even in the most desperate moments,
The Savior will surely come.
Fight, hero, claim victory, brave one.
The future—I entrust to you.
…
Once again smelling blood and smoke, Bai Ya realized he was back. He was a girl again, back in the arena, facing overwhelming terror.
She found her left hand jammed in the Ghoul’s mouth, yanking his tongue and threatening his throat so he couldn’t move. There were more wounded people on the field now, a girl was sobbing in her arms, the annoying Luo-shi looked shocked behind her—it seemed a lot had happened while she was unconscious.
Maybe thanks to the help of a few people, and her own semi-awake reflexes even in a blackout, she was still alive.
But her body was in terrible shape—her head throbbed, blood blurred her vision, her body was shaky and about to collapse at any moment.
But as long as she was still alive, that was enough. If she lived, she still had a chance to turn the tables.
This time, she would not lose again.
“Want to hear my Executioner’s Aria?”
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