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Chapter 1601 Final Chapter: Guarding the Coastline: "OE: Die from the Ocean (17)"

The white-haired, golden-eyed deity spread his wings and stepped onto a desolate planet—Alger's new home. Here, there was no intelligent life, only a group of cold, mechanical beings.

"Crack-!"

The god shed all softness, cutting through obstacles and charging forward, his sword like a cold star, his tentacles like fireflies. As his devouring claws tore apart the mechanical remains, through the flying rivets and electric current, his golden eyes, frozen as ice, held only coldness.

The planet's defensive shield was nothing more than a single strike from him, and thousands of robots were like a mantis trying to stop a chariot. When Su Ming'an cleaved through the core of the planet—the door of a towering church—with a single sword strike, the red-haired youth slowly turned around.

Under the sunlight, a magnificent and sacred seven-colored halo shines through the windowpanes, like a rainbow bridge leading to heaven.

"Shua-"

Its snow-white tentacles spread out in all directions, like a beautiful white peacock, yet filled with murderous intent.

"Alger, I've come to take your life."

Yarman's sword dragged along the ground, making a clanging sound. The cross-shaped chain remained unmoved, not a single leaf touching his body.

"You killed Aland?" Alger looked at the white-haired god who was walking towards him.

"Swish, swish—" Only the sound of the sword tip dragging closer could be heard.

“I’ve heard that Aini’s trial will be held soon,” Alger said.

"Swish swish—" Pure white tentacles flowed all over the ground, like crisscrossing streams.

“You’re really strong, Su Ming’an. All my defenses are nothing but cutting melons and vegetables in front of you. It seems you’ve burned yourself to the limit… How much longer do you have to live? You used to have a hundred years left, but now I’m afraid it’s only…” Alger said.

"Shh-!"

The sword tip pressed against Alger's neck, but the pure white eyes of the god reflected nothing.

If Dieying were to see this, he would probably be overjoyed, for he has become a resolute god.

Even though He once succumbed to the torment of death, He remains as pure as snow. Even though He once feared the departure of those He had known, His sword was not sharp.

“You’re nothing but a discarded pawn,” Su Ming’an said.

The eighth seat didn't care about Alger's life or death at all and didn't stay by Alger's side all the time, which gave Su Ming'an an opportunity.

Alger reached out, wanting to place Su Ming'an's hand on his chest.

With a "whoosh," the sword blade severed his hand, and the bloody hand fell to the ground, but he laughed wildly:

"Those who carry firewood for others are destined to die in the cold winter of the twelfth lunar month!"

"Those who once held the fire for others are destined to die when the firewood burns out!"

"Look, Su Ming'an, spring has arrived! The spring you promised has arrived! But why are you still suffering, still fighting!?"

Faced with the questioning, Su Ming'an remained silent, raised his hand, and drew his sword.

Unlike Aland, who faced death with equanimity, Alger's eyes were filled with the will to survive. He roared and transformed into a giant of fire, bursting through the church and bringing his palms together towards Su Ming'an.

The pure white deity raised its swan-like neck, held a sword in one hand, and raised the blade. A cross of spatial light and the blood-red color of devouring flashed simultaneously at the tip of its sword, as if breaking through the bright universe and drawing a brilliant "one" sword shape.

"Shh-!"

The fire giant melted instantly as if in the dead of winter. His torso was pierced through by a sword and split apart, becoming Alger's blood-stained body. He gasped for breath and collapsed to the ground with a thud, blood flowing everywhere.

Su Ming'an moved his heel horizontally, avoiding the bloodstains.

His hand was suddenly grasped. It was Alger, who had not exerted any divine power, who, before his life was about to end, grasped his hand and pressed it against his chest.

“You hear…” Alger murmured:
Do we have the same heartbeat in our chests now?

"Shh!"

With a single stroke, the church fell silent.

Everything falls silent.

During the battle, Su Ming'an noticed that Alger was intentionally protecting something. This man was extremely greedy and selfish. He betrayed his homeland for power and must have obtained the treasure in the process of betraying him.

For a traitor to protect someone so steadfastly, it must be something that even higher dimensions would covet.

Su Ming'an stepped forward with his sword, expecting to see some treasure, but all he saw was a crystal ice coffin.

Inside the coffin lay a sleeping young girl, her face rosy and her skin plump. Countless daisies and baby's breath adorned her surroundings, a meticulously arranged display. Her appearance bore a striking resemblance to Alger, and the jewel in her bosom preserved her body from decay, hinting at a possible resurrection.

Su Ming'an saw the portrait of the girl in the painting beside him, the meticulously trimmed sunflowers, the hanging crystal chandelier, and the gifts that Alger had carefully prepared...

"This is what you'd risk your life to protect..."

This is the person Alger would betray his homeland to protect.

This is the direction that Alger has been protecting throughout his operations.

his sister.

Is it possible to commit so many wrongdoings and disregard the entire world just to bring one person back to life?
Su Ming'an touched her. The girl's soul was completely lost; even a soul ferry could not revive her. Alger's actions were nothing but wishful thinking and trying to catch the moon's reflection in the water. The Eighth Seat must have deceived Alger with the promise of "resurrection," but Alger wasn't a fool. He probably already guessed that resurrection was hopeless, yet he still did it.

Chasing after an illusion... a wrong obsession, a wrong life.

Humans often harm themselves and others in the pursuit of the impossible.

Su Ming'an closed his eyes, turned around, and returned to the small world.

"Clang—!" A bell rang out from afar, signaling the arrival of Judgment Day.

Today is the trial for Enni's attack on Yamada Machiichi.

Considering that Aini was influenced by the spirit of the Eighth Seat and was not entirely proactive, the Judgment Board intended to let her go, but when they took Aini to the trial, someone screamed.

"what--!"

"boom!"

Similar bullets, the same gunshot.

This time, Aini pointed the gun at himself; ribbons burst from his bones, and flowers bloomed on his back.

It's a beautiful day.

Su Ming'an looked up and saw a pure, unadulterated azure, like the clearest seawater in the world.

The deep, rich, and expansive blue, like an enormous piece of glass, stretches wildly to the horizon, beyond the jagged outlines of the city, beyond the undulating mountains in the distance, and finally melts into the horizon beyond the reach of the eye.

Standing beneath it, one feels a sense of insignificance, yet strangely enveloped by its vastness, as if the soul itself unfolds and breaks free from the shackles of the world.

"Crash-"

Birds suddenly took flight, transforming into white streaks that swept across the vast, boundless blue sky.

He walked from the white jade bricks to the tower of judgment, under a cloudless sky.

A bell rang.

It was as if a yellowed book was unfolding before his eyes.

Lu died heroically.

The most ruthless members of the mafia died protecting their honor.

Dieying's voice rang in my ears:

……

"We do not choose to be born into this world, this body, this historical context, or this cultural symbol system."

……

"clang--"

Yamada Machiichi died from bravery.

The once timid student finally made up his mind to pull down the trolley pole, but it became his death warrant.

……

“We cannot ‘choose’ not to be our starting point. This starting point, along with the physical laws, biological heredity, and historical accumulation it contains, has already woven a web of possibilities that even a butterfly cannot break through.”

……

"clang--"

Aini died because of his arrogance.

If he hadn't harbored murderous intent, he wouldn't have been influenced by the Eighth Seat, leading him to fire that shot.

However, his murderous intent was caused by a combination of factors, including his companions, relatives, interests, and personal feelings, which were unavoidable and indispensable.

……

"What we change by paddling hard is only our momentary position in the river, but it cannot shake the predetermined direction and force of the current that carries us."

……

"clang--!"

Eleven died by fate.

Her life should have been long, with a vast and boundless future, but it was ended by an attack, as if it were a predetermined end. There was no resistance, no possibility of escaping.

……

“Every present moment is the future accumulated from past causes and effects. Every choice is deeply rooted in causes and effects that we cannot fully comprehend, composed of heredity, environment, education, unconscious impulses, etc.—free will is just a lie.”

……

"clang--"

Aland died of indifference.

His omniscience about life and the future fostered this accompanying indifference. When everything has been seen a thousand times over, what is there to be happy about in life?
……

"If 'my' choice is merely a predetermined outcome within a vast chain of cause and effect; if 'freedom' is simply consciousness's confirmation and affirmation of its inherent inevitability."

……

"clang--"

Luna died of old age.

All the joys and sorrows, the sweet and bitter experiences, all the happiness and sadness, are transformed into external things, and nothing is left behind.

……

"Then, how is 'responsibility' possible? How does 'meaning' stand? How is 'self' established?"

……

"clang--"

Alger died from greed.

For the sake of a mere illusion, they disregard the world and even abandon themselves.

He was unwilling to accept the future under Su Ming'an's rule, without his dearest people.

……

"Therefore, freedom itself is born from profound limitations."

"Human freedom is ultimately just... 'freedom within circumstances'."

……

Su Ming'an looked ahead.

He saw himself on a rock called inevitability, holding a hammer and chisel, sculpting his own form time and time again.

He bowed upon the altar, roses and petals adorning his skin. He sculpted his eyes to be merciless, his lips to be hard, his cheeks to be sharp, and his arms to be bruised yet strong. He plucked his own flesh and gave it to people, freezing his own blood into ice.

Angels sing a mournful song, while Aries stands silently.

He stopped fighting against the unchangeable thing and instead gazed at it, understood it, and ran towards it, his gaze piercing through its cold texture until he understood its chilling logic, breaking his bones, burying them in hot flesh, and embracing the heavy shackles.

The grape juice was crushed, and the bright red liquid gushed all over my body, penetrating deep into my collarbone and lungs.

Like Camus' Sisyphus, even after recognizing the inevitable fate of the boulder rolling downhill, he still imbued the futile act of pushing the boulder uphill with dignity.

Like Prometheus who stole fire, he was chained to a cliff in the Caucasus Mountains, where his liver was devoured by an eagle every day, only to be regenerated at night, his suffering endless.

He transformed himself into the deep and indispensable bass line of this symphony.

He became the freedom of the limited, dancing on the edge of the abyss of fate.

He risked his life and jumped into the river.

……

When Lü Shu opened his eyes, everything was dark.

He thought it was because he had just woken up and was not used to it yet, but after a while, it was still dark in front of him and he could not see anything.

“…Lu Shu.” Someone grasped his hand.

"Su Ming'an." Lu Shu subconsciously clenched his fist; he could sense who it was without even looking.

"Don't be afraid anymore." Su Ming'an seemed to be smiling. "There won't be any more sad things."

"You brought me back to life?" Lu Shu clearly remembered the burning pain he felt before he died, as if his whole body was being gnawed away by ants, their bites tearing away his flesh. He never expected that he could still feel warmth.

"What price did you pay? You—" Lu Shu knew this was no simple matter.

The road cannot be resurrected because its existence has been erased; Lu Shu's divine essence remains, but it is not easy for him to be resurrected either. What did Su Ming'an do to bring him back to life?

He felt his eyes being closed, as if Su Ming'an didn't want him to continue seeing those hopeless voids.

"Why can't I see?" Lu Shu asked blankly.

Those bright green eyes lost their luster and stared blankly in Su Ming'an's direction.

His vision was robbed in that battle and never returned, even Su Ming'an was helpless to change it.

Under the silent moonlight, Lü Shu sensed that the person cutting through the moonlight and walking into the darkness.

“We can’t go home… right?” The person didn’t answer, but asked softly.

Because they almost perished the last time they went back.

So, there's no going back.

"..." Lu Shu felt the man's fist clench tightly, and the evening breeze blew on his forehead.

"This is home." Lu Shu stood up, braving the darkness, and tentatively stretched out his hands, taking a step forward:

"Home is where you are."

Although he couldn't see it, Lü Shu could sense where Su Ming'an was standing.

“If I can’t go back, then I’ll walk. If I can’t walk in time, I’ll run. No matter how far, no matter how long it takes… I can catch up with the future, catch up with home.” Lu Shu stumbled forward, holding onto the table, the wall, and the lamplight.

He clearly still has so much vigor and brilliance to show to the world, so why can't He go home?

For a moment, Lü Shu thought—

Gods and Buddhas will never save people.

“…If you won’t help others, I will help you, we will help you.” Lu Shu raised his head and said resolutely, trying to hold onto something.

He spoke of Su Ming'an's appearance in White Sand Paradise, of how he climbed Cloud City and, despite his injuries, still held up a rose, of how he finally climbed the central tower in the extreme cold, of the wind of the dome, of the rain of the old world, of rose blood, of spring, and of the many birthdays that would be celebrated around the world well past twenty years.

Speaking of which, he feared idealists who had lost the light in their eyes, and saviors who had cast aside their swords.

Don't forget home.

Suddenly, Lü Shu realized that Su Ming'an had not answered.

Unable to see, Lü Shu grew increasingly panicked and raised his voice, asking, "Su Ming'an—are you there?"

The voice that answered him was somewhat bewildered.

"Who am I?" Su Ming'an's voice asked.

“Su Ming’an,” Lu Shu said.

"Strange, who am I...?" Su Ming'an's voice grew increasingly confused.

At this moment, the sounds of the world—the traffic outside the window, the laughter of neighbors, the ticking of the clock on the wall—all sink into a thick, suffocating sea of ​​silence.

A panicked suspicion took root in Lü Shu's heart, even to the point of disbelief. The weight of grief exceeded the limits that tears could bear, accumulating heavily within his internal organs.

Lu Shu learned in disbelief that these were symptoms of Akto's later stages... the onset of amnesia.

He began to forget.

Was it the attack that consumed too much energy? Was it the repeated time travel that consumed too much energy? Was it the flesh-and-blood experiments that consumed too much energy? Was it the pursuit of the enemy that consumed too much energy? Was it the resurrection that consumed too much energy?

Looking back, there are too many things that have left him scarred.

The most painful thing is that you are also a link in this chain of harm, you are born from Su Ming'an's flesh and blood, and you are an indirect executioner.

Bitter buds sprout in the heart, growing into towering trees in an instant. The world fades into a gray, crumbling silhouette, and all sounds seem distant and distorted, as if seen through thick frosted glass.

Lu Shu stared at the pitch-black darkness, feeling utterly powerless. He knelt on the ground, unable to get up, but his eyes remained open, clearly feeling the torture of his heart being scorched.

Su Ming'an looked at Lü Shu, whose beautiful green eyes, once as warm and cool as tea, were now just dark and empty.

He thought that after everything was over, he would hear laughter, gratitude, cheers and screams from countless people, celebrations and the spring breeze. But in the end, all he heard was his own heavy, rapid breathing and the sound of the waves rising little by little.

He almost used all his strength to swallow the sob in his throat.

He struggled to raise his hand, trying to wipe away his tears.

"Stop crying."

Those who were saved continued to die.

The clear memories and names in my mind are still fading away.

Only the ginkgo trees outside the window remain unchanged, never altered by fleeting trends.

In a daze, I seemed to see faces—faces under fireworks, faces in front of cakes, faces under flowering trees—smiling faces, laughing faces, warm faces, faces that were pure white, beautiful faces, faces like springtime, faces like apricot leaves, faces like snowflakes…

They all looked at him.

……

The seawater finally reached his neck.

……

"Lu Shu, who am I?"

"I'm……"

“I am… Su Ming’an.”

"I'm……"

"who."

……