first player

Chapter 1665 Final Chapter - The Shore Crossing [9] - "Why are you crying?"

Su Ming'an's knuckles trembled slightly.

—Feeling bored, feeling rebellious.

A deep resentment for the endless loss of life, and a deep resentment for not being able to take action.

The resentment towards one's fate being arranged by the system and having no choice but to stand idly by.

In order to save the prop of a red rose, he had no choice but to watch the knight close his eyes in the cold night.

In order to save a puppet prop, I had to watch the crescent moon mark on my palm disappear.

As if it were a predetermined fate, he watched as the nine people in the ruined world perished before his eyes. He tried everything but could not change his destiny, and could only watch as the names of the deceased increased one by one.

The weight of a human life is lighter than that of a prop.

He started to get tired of this "equivalent exchange" very, very early on.

……

The sky was stained with the color of flames.

The aftershocks of the battle spread, and occasionally a stray ice blade or fireball would fall below, clearing a large area. Players, advanced races, refugees… everyone instinctively moved away from the deadly airspace. The cries of agony echoed endlessly.

The refugees took the hands of their parents and children and fled in disarray.

"Help! Help me!"

"Lord of the Rin Clan, we beg you, please step forward and protect us!"

"Gods, I have dedicated my whole life to you, praying day and night, only begging you to look at us..." The white-haired old woman, her back hunched, pleaded incessantly amidst the gunfire.

……

Everyone was caught in this massive vortex called "fate" or "story." Actions seemed autonomous, choices seemed free, yet ultimately they all appeared to lead to pre-written plot points—the struggle for the key, the birth of the holy sword, the mother goddess's gaze, the opening of the box…

[A predetermined course of development.]

[A predetermined ending.]

[—The protagonist, Su Ming'an, will draw his holy sword and point it at the gods.]

The hero will be crowned a saint in the sight of everyone.

……

Inside the Blue Crystal Corridor, it was so quiet you could hear the sound of blood flowing, as if it were a completely different world from the deafening noise outside.

Su Ming'an gripped the dagger, its tip already piercing the fabric of Ashley's chest. He felt his heart beating steadily and powerfully, one beat after another.

Ashley closed his eyes, his long white eyelashes glowing like fireflies, his face showing no fear, only the peace of liberation.

“Stab me, savior.” She looked at him, took his hand in hers, her eyes empty and hollow.

The cold, metallic blade rests on the surface of the skin, fingers brushing against it.

Warm...like the hands that countless people clasped before their deaths.

……

I gripped the hilt of the sword that represented my choice of "sacrifice."

I can accept this gift, embrace the perfect climax of the story, and carry on with her death. It's reasonable, effective, and tragic. Everything is logical, everything is reasonable, and it's no different from the deaths I've witnessed before.

It's just shedding a couple of tears, adding a name to a ring.

It's just that one person died, and I took a few more steps towards victory.

It's just another person added to the graveyard of memories; I often think of her.

Many people might understand this choice, Phoenix would probably scoff at this pointless sentimentality, and Su Lin might advise me not to get used to it.

……

Su Ming'an looked at the girl's furrowed brows and her pale cheeks.

When the Magpie was teaching itself how to construct the world, the Lazy Bird once sipped its coffee and said:

"There are many ways to bring a story to a climax: stirring the characters' emotions, creating intense conflict, setting up a grand plot twist... But the easiest, most effective, and most likely way to instantly 'get everyone into the story' is actually only one—"

Si Que then raised one finger:
"—The death of a character."

"Especially when...the character chooses to die, and that death is in line with their 'positioning' and 'aesthetics'."

"The death of a person can instantly connect all the wandering emotions and unfinished arcs, causing the center of gravity of the entire world to tilt."

"Even if he is just a petty thief who has committed countless evils and is despised by everyone, as long as his death is appropriate, the importance of his death will overshadow the brilliance of his life."

"Like the brightest searchlight, in the instant life ends, all the qualities that were not revealed will be exposed. Even seemingly ordinary daily life, including unfulfilled wishes and regrets... will instantly take on a destiny-like meaning."

At that time, Su Ming'an seemed to understand but not quite, and nodded. He only regarded it as an advancement technique for "Creators" to help him improve his combat power.

However, at this point, he understood.

Especially after he realized time and again that Si Que's "slumber" was not simple, and that Si Que might have a higher-dimensional identity.

The nonchalant tone and the impressions from various people subtly revealed that Si Que's perspective was more unusual than what he himself knew.

He... no, Him.

Do I really understand Him completely?

……

【Si Que. 】

[You and I both know the story behind this so-called Creator Technique. Just like the worldly ruler Su Wenjun, trapped her entire life; just like the overlooked Ran Bo and Lin Hejin; just like Qi Jue, who faced death in despair.]

But there are some questions that have always puzzled me.

What is a "character"? What is "fate"? Who wrote the code? Who set the rules? Who assigned the role? If everything is a story written from a higher dimension, then is "resisting fate" itself merely a predetermined part of that story?

If "sacrifice" is Ashley's "character setting," then does "refusing to sacrifice" become Su Ming'an's "character setting"? Are we rebelling, or are we performing according to a more hidden script?

When a character's death becomes merely a function, when sacrifice becomes pure aesthetics, when viewers start predicting whose departure will bring the most exciting twist—the world dies. It becomes nothing more than a tool. Death shouldn't be a searchlight; it comes from within.

[Si Que, look.]

[Now, Ashley's death...it seems to fit this principle—a character positioned as the "key," actively choosing an aesthetically pleasing sacrifice, paving the way for the protagonist, pushing the plot to an unavoidable climax, maximizing benefits, a perfect climax catalyst, and possibly even attracting the attention of the Radiant Mother, earning a high score from the World Tree for Rovasa.]

So, Si Que...

If I were to stab him now...

[—Did I truly fulfill Ashley's mission as a seed, a great and necessary act?]

Or is it that...?

[—I merely followed an effective formula, personally killing a vibrant soul, an innocent young girl?]

Was her release stemming from sympathy for me, or from submission to these rules?

Is my anger born from self-loathing for my own powerlessness, or from disgust for the recurring drama?

Why do I feel that if this dagger were to pierce through, it wouldn't be a heart, but rather a thin membrane that would trap us all?

Beneath this thin film, we adhere to a set of established rules: nudity is forbidden, explicit language is forbidden, actions below the neck are forbidden, excessive behavior is forbidden, bloodshed and violence are forbidden, expressions of desire are forbidden, and sensitive statements are forbidden…

—I know that the trembling I felt in her eyes was real. I know that the fleeting longing in her eyes was real. I know that the pain and hope of those outside, bleeding, crying, fighting, and dying, were real.

If I decide not to pierce this heart,

Will we see beyond the membrane—a broader reality, or a deeper nothingness?

If I decide not to pierce this heart.

In which corner of the world, in which dream, will you reveal a look of astonishment at the situation spiraling out of control?

Is true "freedom" even possible?

……

"I refuse."

……

The wind stopped, and the sounds of fighting subsided.

Only the girl's pulse, penetrating the cold metal, struck the black-haired youth's finger bones.

The girl slowly opened her eyes, her face showing disbelief.

The dagger fell to the ground, and a few drops of blood exploded.

Su Ming'an looked at her calmly.

—I refuse to accept this gift in the name of sacrifice.

—I refuse to pave my way with your death.

this moment,
Before Su Ming'an's eyes, a cold option box seemed to truly appear, like a clumsy game prompt:
[A. Stab her—You need to obtain the key through her death.]

[B. Stab her—You need to become strong through her death.]

[C. Stab her—You need to use her death to achieve victory.]

[D. Stab down—because that's what you've always done.]

First Player

What do you hate?
What are you betraying?
You've always done it this way.

What exactly are you rebelling against at the root—something that is neither describable nor visible?
"clang--!"

The dagger slipped from his hand, spinning as it fell toward the ice, as if shattering something.

Su Ming'an stood up resolutely, his whole body trembling.

It was as if he had truly rebelled against some unseen, predetermined thing. He couldn't understand why he was trembling, why he was afraid, or why he felt relieved.

Something prickly and tingly is moving through my body, from the spinal cord to the blood vessels, from the cortex to the bones.

It was as if the crystal walls of the World Tree had become countless transparent mirrors, and he saw his own reflection, with bloodshot eyes—

He rebelled so much that he threw away the dagger as if he were throwing away something cold yet burning from his very roots.

The white-haired girl's eyes still held tears as she gazed blankly at the resolute Su Ming'an, her soft hand gently wiping away the tears from the corners of his eyes.

"But why..."

Are you crying?

……

"Captain, I recently heard an interesting term." In the snow-covered cabin, a blond-haired, blue-eyed knight had just finished a patrol and was seeking warmth inside.

The young knight sat before the burning campfire, his hands clasped together, his bright eyes looking at me: "Captain, I'd like to ask, what are your thoughts on free will?"

"Hmm..." Su Ming'an sat on the sofa and thought for a moment, then patiently explained to the knight, who was as curious as a primary school student, "Among many possible choices, a person chooses the decision that they want to make. That is free will."

"Acting on one's own desires..." Sherud chewed on the phrase, "For example, this morning I wanted to buy Changying a gift, so I went and bought it. Is that 'free will'?"

"Of course it counts," Su Ming'an said matter-of-factly. "As long as you want to buy it, as long as that thought flashes through your mind, even if you don't end up buying it, it's your free will."

"Even if I can't succeed, as long as I've thought about it..." Sherude closed his eyes, his hand unconsciously resting on his heart, as if he could feel the warmth of his soul, "Yes, freedom..."

Free will does not lie in whether choices are determined by cause and effect, but in whether the process of making those choices reflects the will of the individual.

Even if influenced by clan, blood ties, environment, or others, as long as "I want to," then "I am free."

Sheldon pondered this concept for a moment, then asked, "Captain, do you think that if a person lacks free will, can we still condemn their evil deeds? Can punishment still have a moral basis?"

Su Ming'an said, "The law I am familiar with is based on the premise that 'the perpetrator has the capacity for criminal responsibility.' Sentencing for both intentional and negligent crimes involves assessing the degree of free will. If a person's criminal act does not stem from their own thoughts, they will be exempt from certain responsibilities."

"So, if they are passively transformed Soul Clan members who harm others out of instinct, could we consider some degree of exemption from liability? Something just doesn't feel right..." Sheldr tilted his head and took out his notebook.

Su Ming'an pondered for a moment.

He earnestly explained his thoughts on this issue to the knight.

[If our actions stem from our own desires, beliefs, and character, and are not distorted by coercion, intimidation, or mental illness, then we have exercised free will. Even if our character and desires are shaped by genes and environment, they are still "mine." Therefore, I am still responsible for my actions.]

Otherwise, if everything is predetermined, and all things are shaped, then do our efforts, love, creation, and moral pursuits still have meaning?

I am certain that my decision is guided by my temperament, my perseverance, and my values.

Then I will not doubt whether my path is correct or whether my sacrifice is worthwhile.

"...Shelder, it's like buying a gift in a store. You can buy a crystal ball or you candy. In the end, you choose candy. This might be related to the tastes of those around you, the store's stock, the salesperson's recommendation... but the decision is yours. It's your free will that decides you want to buy candy," Su Ming'an said earnestly. "We possess a kind of... [limited freedom]."

"Hmm." Sheldon nodded, closed his notebook, and nodded solemnly. "I understand, Captain."

The firelight danced on their faces, and outside the window, the snowflakes fell like petals.

Freedom with "limits".

Ultimately, the approach of the siren, the strength of the barrier, and the color of the soul... became the "limits."

—And the knight's choice became "freedom."

[At that moment, Su Ming'an couldn't find the answer. The instant he took out the red rose, his mind went blank, and he sensed a kind of destiny.]

Is the feeling of free will real or an illusion for living beings?

He both grieved for and praised the knight's freedom, never considering his own.

……