Ever since awakening in the Legend of the Gods and Ghosts world, Zhao Yingkong felt something stirring within her, a sensation truly beyond words—like a dream, yet more ephemeral, and paradoxically, more real. This hazy ambiguity was precisely what deepened her confusion; she felt agonizingly close to reality, yet had no grasp of what reality itself was.

Zhao Yingkong silently sat up in bed, glancing around her room. As usual, the space was vast and empty, nearly devoid of decoration or furniture. Only the basement housed various training apparatuses. She was, by far, the one with the simplest living arrangements on the team, even more so than Chu Xuan. At least she never delved into studying arcane things, which accounted for the stark, empty... and lonely appearance of her quarters.

Zhao Yingkong had been raised and trained as the quintessential assassin. Regardless of whether these memories were genuine, her heart held nothing but the content of her training, myriad combat techniques, and, most importantly, the smiles of her former comrades. The memories of her time with them were treasures she would cherish for a lifetime. But now... these very memories were causing her deep disorientation.

During her sleep, a peculiar memory had surfaced in her consciousness.

It was almost as if she were dreaming.

When she awoke, the memory had vanished, leaving only a faint recollection of another Zhao Yingkong appearing within that vision... or perhaps, that other presence was the true Zhao Yingkong, and she was merely an illusion conjured by her.

How could she accept such a thing? Even for someone as emotionally detached as Zhao Yingkong, accepting that she was merely a manufactured phantom was impossible.

Because, fundamentally, this negated her very existence. If all of that were true...

Were the memories she held so dearly—were they all illusions? Was she illusory too? Zhao Yingkong sighed, pulled on her clothes, and pushed open her door, stepping out onto the "Main God" Plaza. She intended to exchange for some quality sleeping aids from the "Main God." This young woman was subconsciously seeking to escape the bewilderment and fear churning inside her, and dreamless sleep was one of the best escapes available.

As Zhao Yingkong pushed open her door and entered the "Main God" Plaza.

She unexpectedly saw Chu Xuan stumbling out, looking utterly disheveled. The man was covered in scorch marks, with faint wisps of smoke still rising from his person, as if he had just been roasted by fire. His movements were strange, too: after pushing the door open,

Thwack. He slammed the door shut with force, then gripped the handle for several seconds before pulling it open again. These rapid actions left Zhao Yingkong utterly perplexed; she had no idea what the man was doing.

However, Zhao Yingkong was not one to indulge curiosity.

She gave Chu Xuan two quiet glances and turned toward the massive orb of the "Main God."

Who knew that just as she turned and took a few steps away, Chu Xuan behind her spoke up, "...Want to talk with me? About the other you..." Zhao Yingkong spun around violently, her eyes sharper than anyone had ever seen them. This quiet girl, usually outwardly cold, displayed a reserved awkwardness with the members of the Central Continent team, but she had never shown such piercing hostility before—an expression laced with palpable killing intent.

Unfortunately for her, she was facing Chu Xuan. The man paid no mind to her expression, simply turning and walking back towards his own room. Seeing this, Zhao Yingkong hesitated. Only after Chu Xuan had been inside his room for more than ten seconds did the girl take a deep breath and follow him in.

"...That's the basic situation. What happened to your memories, what happened to your past, whether you are a phantom created by someone else, or if everything about you... Yes, I know all of it. The glasses I gave to Zheng Zha have recording functions, and for clues that can be used in my planning, I absolutely need a hundred percent grasp of them... But I regret to inform you, knowing it does not mean I can tell you."

This was the basement of Chu Xuan’s room, an expanded laboratory where he conducted all manner of experiments. Of course... it was extremely dangerous here; in some respects, the level of peril was no less than the horror movie worlds or various side quests. Anyone observing Chu Xuan's experiments here had to be prepared to pay with their life at any moment.

Upon entering the basement, Zhao Yingkong saw Chu Xuan taking out a small bronze bell. This bell was then struck by several beams of energy, causing it to slowly levitate mid-air. As the energy beams intensified, a massive light-screen platform directly in front of Chu Xuan began displaying streams of data. When these beams turned brilliant white, the intensity was so great that Zhao Yingkong had to look away. Simultaneously, the data on Chu Xuan's screen began pouring out uncontrollably. This state lasted only a few seconds before the entire room chimed suddenly; the brilliant white energy beams instantly halted, and the room’s lighting shifted from incandescent white to a dim, deep red.

"Run, quickly! The fusion reactor load is too high; it's about to explode!" And so, the previous actions were immediately repeated... "So... you've repeated this action dozens of times? If it’s because the fusion reactor is overloaded, why don't you build more reactors to supply the energy?" With clothes slightly singed, she asked quietly.

Chu Xuan frowned, still staring intently at the small bronze bell. He shook his head. "The characteristic of the Donghuang Bell involves the triple alteration of energy, space, and time. From what we currently understand, first, it possesses the attributes of a philosophical causality weapon—that is, the concept of causality in quantum mechanics I mentioned before: the uniformity of time, where the present determines the future, and conversely, the present also determines the past. In essence, causality is inverted, determined by the effect..."

"Including the experiment just now, across these dozens of trials, I’ve been ceaselessly altering the total energy magnitude of the beams, ranging from thirty percent output of two fusion reactors, to eighty percent, then five reactors, then ten reactors... Or perhaps running the experiment in reverse; what just happened was only ten percent output from a small fusion reactor. But like before, the moment the intention—'input this much energy'—formed in my mind, the Donghuang Bell reached its energy load limit, and the energy beams began to reverse-flow, causing the fusion reactor to overload despite running at only ten percent. This has nothing to do with increasing or decreasing the total energy supplied... The Donghuang Bell foresaw the effect of me stopping, so it induced the cause of the energy overload? Therefore, does the Donghuang Bell—with its convergence of energy, space, and time alterations—trigger the effect of a philosophical causality weapon?" Chu Xuan grew more animated as he spoke, tapping furiously at the light screen. He seemed to have completely forgotten Zhao Yingkong's presence. A magnified image of the Donghuang Bell appeared on the screen, displaying its data and diagrams of various components centered around the screen. Simultaneously, mechanical parts began appearing out of thin air around another empty space on the screen, starting to assemble themselves haphazardly.

"...Hey."

Zhao Yingkong could no longer remain silent. She couldn't understand any of it anyway, and the reason she came here was to find out what was wrong with her memories, not to listen to Chu Xuan's discourse.

"I said, I cannot tell you about your situation, because her strength is crucial for the layout of the final battle, and she is also one of the team's most volatile factors. If possible, I wish to avoid any conflict with her. Whether I can tell you is up to her decision."

"Her? Who is 'her'?" Her face flushed slightly, making her naturally androgynous appearance lean decidedly toward the feminine.

Chu Xuan did not answer. He turned, pulled out a pouch—the spatial bag he used for storing all sorts of items—and withdrew a pair of non-prescription, plain glasses, which he handed directly to Zhao Yingkong.

"...That’s very similar to what Zheng Zha said. It really is a bit like Doraemon..."

"..." Chu Xuan maintained a perfectly poker face. This was already the milder assessment; the harsher one would have been a death mask. Since there were no outsiders around, he didn't bother adjusting his facial muscles for appearances. After handing over the glasses, he turned back to resume his experiments.

"You have three hours. During this time, I will not conduct any experiments regarding the energy reactions of cultivation artifacts... Zhao Yingkong, regarding the notion of being 'manufactured'—because you can think, you can move, you have thoughts—even if you were manufactured, you are still you. If our world and all of us are merely a simulation game run by a higher-order being, aren't we also manufactured?" Zhao Yingkong stared blankly at Chu Xuan. After speaking these words, the man had already turned his back, leaving behind only a slightly frail silhouette. Zhao Yingkong remained stunned for a long while before she finally resolutely put on the glasses. Instantly, she slumped over, unconscious, while wearing them.

Jump to