Chapter 148: Are You Ready?

On the seventh day, the nation observed a day of silence.

The National Bureau of Statistics recorded nearly one hundred million deaths; countless families lost loved ones—parents lost their children, children lost their parents, lovers lost their partners…

This was a day for unrestrained grief; air raid sirens wailed continuously, mourning those who perished in this disaster.

Yang Yi carried a bouquet of white chrysanthemums and walked among the Jueguan Bureau ranks.

The Jueguan Bureau lost many comrades in this disaster; alone, the capital branch lost sixteen Awakened Ones.

After the floral tribute came the condolence visits to families, led by Director Zhou and Deputy Director Zheng.

The solemn atmosphere weighed heavily on Yang Yi's heart; rationally, she knew she had given her all, but seeing the faces of the families—some shattered with grief, others numb from unbearable pain—she felt a dark cloud settle over her, as if she herself had caused all this.

She slipped away to a secluded spot and stood silently, gazing at the solemn crowd.

Her mind churned with thoughts… What if the demonic god's fragment had not chosen me? What if I had discovered the cultists' plot sooner? Even if I had closed the interdimensional portal just a little earlier—would any of this have happened?

Suddenly, a young man wearing a white flower on his chest approached; Liu Siyuan, standing guard nearby, moved to stop him, but Yang Yi gently shook her head.

"Hello, I'm Liu Xinyu's brother. My name is Liu Xinfan…" He extended his hand to her.

Yang Yi hesitated, then reached out, struggling to recall the familiar-sounding name "Liu Xinyu."

Liu Xinfan studied her expression, then sneered: "You don't remember her, do you? She's lying in that cold coffin right now, receiving your condolences…" He pointed to a coffin inside the hall.

Yang Yi's ears and cheeks burned instantly; she forced herself to maintain a solemn expression and uttered a hollow phrase: "I'm sorry."

"She was just twenty-one, fresh out of university. She had exceptional talent—she awakened directly as a B-rank gravity user…" Liu Xinfan ignored her words and continued, "The night before the disaster, over dinner, she proudly told Mom, Dad, and me that from now on, she'd protect the whole family. We all opposed her joining the Jueguan Bureau, but she was determined—she wanted to join because you were there. You were her idol…"

Here, Liu Xinfan choked up, paused, then looked straight at Yang Yi: "…But now she's lying in that coffin, while you… stand here, unharmed."

Yang Yi stood motionless. The man before her was just an ordinary person, his words not even loud—but she felt as if she'd been slapped hard across the face.

"…Do you know? When I read news reports about you, I often get this feeling—that in this world, you alone are the protagonist. All of us, every single life, are just background details swept past in a sentence. All this disaster happened only to highlight you… and my sister? She was merely a brick in the foundation of your success. One general's glory is built on ten thousand corpses. Now you've achieved fame and glory, revered and adored by the world, while these corpses lie buried, slowly forgotten…"

"…But I won't forget. My parents won't forget either. My sister—sometimes she was unreasonable, sometimes sweet and obedient. She was so timid she feared mice, yet she died bravely fighting those monstrous creatures…"

"…If you're truly so powerful, so all-knowing, why didn't you close the interdimensional portal sooner? Why didn't you crush it at its inception, before it even opened? … Why wait until it was too late, until billions of lives were sacrificed to build your honor? —Now you sit upon the highest throne in the world, basking in supreme glory. Have you ever thought: your throne is built from countless bloodstains, bones, and lives?"

The scene had drawn glances from the hall; Liu Siyuan could no longer bear it and stepped forward to separate Liu Xinfan. "Sir, please calm down…"

A middle-aged man with gray hair approached, grabbing Liu Xinfan's arm and bowing deeply to Yang Yi: "I'm so sorry, Miss Yang… My son grew up very close to his sister. This loss has shattered him. His words were out of line—please forgive him…"

"It's fine," Yang Yi said. Her face felt numb. She forced herself to offer comfort: "I understand."

Liu Xinfan was led away by his father, leaving Yang Yi standing alone.

No one approached her again, yet she felt countless eyes from the hall—watching, peering, sneaking glances—as if she stood naked before the crowd, judged with malice, scrutinized without restraint.

Director Zhou walked over, patted her shoulder, and led her out of the hall.

Outside, the sun blazed fiercely; cicadas screamed desperately, stirring unease in her chest.

They reached a pavilion. Director Zhou spoke with quiet gravity: "Yang Yi, once you reach this position, you will hear many different voices. Not everyone will love you, nor will everyone hate you. You are merely a mirror—reflecting their own thoughts."

"I understand," Yang Yi said.

"But you're still blaming yourself, aren't you?"

"I did my best," Yang Yi said, her breathing growing rapid: "I gave everything. I even crossed that line…" Her voice cut off abruptly; she swallowed the rest.

"See? You're still blaming yourself," Director Zhou pulled out a cigarette, brought it to his nose, and inhaled its scent. "In past disasters, even with timely government rescue, losses were unavoidable. Then, some people turn their anger toward the government—or even the rescuers. They need a target to blame for the disaster, a way to vent their rage. They don't care what the government did, or how hard the rescuers worked—they just want to release their pent-up resentment. Now, you stand at the epicenter. You've become that target."

"You're the strongest Awakened One in the world, the invisible leader of all Awakened Ones. Those who resent or envy Awakened Ones will attack you. Those who lost loved ones in the disaster will attack you. Even some Awakened Ones will attack you…"

"As the saying goes: 'To wear the crown, you must bear its weight.' You will receive the world's most fervent praise—and its most vicious slander. People love to create gods, but they also love to destroy them. Are you prepared for this?" Director Zhou returned the cigarette to its box, watching Yang Yi with concern.

After a long silence, Yang Yi tugged at her lips, as if trying to smile bitterly—but her face remained numb: "No."

"The crown was forced upon the illusory 'god among men.' The throne was shoved upon her. Even the responsibility was imposed on her. Even her power fell from the heavens. No one ever asked me: Yang Yi, do you want any of this?"