Chapter 1912: Audience Enters

Audience Enters

As the voice fell, Tian Huai and Huai Meng simultaneously reached out and grasped the red threads on their chests.

Immediately after,

That red thread concentrated in their palms...

Becoming a Performance Invitation Letter covered with complex patterns.

"Audience: Tian Huai."

"Audience: Huai Meng."

"Registration complete, please enter."

Tiny characters flashed across the Invitation Letter. In the next second, the two only felt their vision blur.

"There really is a Theater here?" Pu Xiachan was standing right next to Huai Meng. Seeing the scene around her, she opened her mouth wide in shock.

"That curtain... seems to be able to see outside..." Cui Ran the Assassin rubbed his chin with one hand, deep in thought.

"What does this mean? Our world is a giant performance?"

"Hehe... perhaps."

Li Shengmen's voice leisurely came from the back row. "But it doesn't matter anymore... If our world really is a performance, then now, we have all already wrapped up our roles."

"...Putting it like that, it seems you're not wrong."

"Right? Since we've finished our roles, being able to continue sitting down as an Audience, I think it's pretty good."

Li Shengmen calmly picked a chair to sit down, intertwining his ten fingers in front of him, looking at the Stage with great interest.

Seeing Li Shengmen sit down, Huai Meng, Cui Ran, and Pu Xiachan also each found a place to sit. Tu Tian was still standing in the aisle, his eyes staring straight at Chen Ling for a long time... Ultimately, he still sighed helplessly.

He silently found the closest seat to sit down, without saying a word.

"Hm?"

"Commander Han Meng."

Pu Xiachan saw a familiar figure pass by and waved enthusiastically. "You've also wrapped up your role?"

The hem of the Enforcer windbreaker fluttered gently with Han Meng's steps. Hearing Pu Xiachan's shout, he glanced over here... and then nodded slightly in politeness.

He walked straight towards the very front rows.

In his hand, he was tightly gripping an Invitation Letter.

"Audience: Han Meng."

"Registration complete, please enter."

Han Meng passed through the gathered Integration Faction, passed through the whispering Floating Life Painting, and squeezed past the dense crowd of Dusk Society members... ultimately arriving at the first row closest to the Stage.

His gaze swept around. After seeing a familiar figure, he fell silent for a moment and walked straight to sit beside him.

"Commander Han Meng, long time no see." Wen Shilin turned his head to look at him and said with a smile.

"...Mm."

"It's very unbelievable, right?"

"When Chen Ling abducted us from the Ancient Vault of the Ghost Path, I thought we would forever be stuck in that umbrella." Han Meng looked around, his gaze somewhat complex. "Now... it's just like a dream."

"I understand you. I came a bit earlier than you guys." Wen Shilin paused for a moment, his eyes bright as stars. "But Chen Ling is just this kind of person who can continuously bring surprises to people, isn't he?"

"But there are some things I still don't understand."

"What?"

"The current us, are we the truly existing us, or... just 'Audiences' whose memories have been rewritten?"

Wen Shilin looked at him quietly for a long time, his gaze once again falling on the Stage.

"I actually feel... it doesn't matter."

"If we are still us, that is naturally the best. If we are essentially still 'Audiences'... at least, we are more meaningful than those that once existed, aren't we?"

"He gave each of us our own story. Each of us has stood on the stage of life and lived once..."

"Malice and resentment were washed away. What fills us might be justice, might be fairness, might be something else..."

"No matter what we used to be... the current us, are just us."

Han Meng was stunned.

He remained silent for a long time, his gaze likewise falling on the Stage...

"...You're right." A touch of relief surfaced in Han Meng's eyes,

"The current us, are just us."

More and more figures took their seats in the audience area.

Babbling mischievous children, with White Ash on their noses, plopped down in the first row;

Beside him, a young girl wearing a yellow dress and carrying a Leather Suitcase also gently sat down. The eyes she used to look at the Thespian on Stage were gentle and bright;

Besides the Dusk Society, Enforcers, or other people who had relationships with Chen Ling, the vast majority of ordinary people had also entered. Although they might not understand the slaughter of the Red Star's consciousness, might not understand what the Theater was, they could feel that this place could bring them peace of mind.

No need to drift in the Ancient Vault of the Ghost Path as soul bodies anymore, no need to wander outside fearing dissipation, and no need to be isolated from the world in the red umbrella...

Here seemed to be a pretty good final destination.

However, outside the Theater,

There were still some figures standing in place with cold faces, motionless.

The Silver King looked at the Invitation Letter in his hand, coldly snorted, and threw it directly to the side. Then he rushed towards the outside of the world of consciousness without looking back.

But the current him was just a soul body, and a soul body locked by Chen Ling at that. He couldn't use the Path of the Thief even slightly. He had just taken two steps when a white thing was blown by the wind and smacked onto his face.

The Silver King lowered his head to look...

It was another Invitation Letter.

His complexion became even uglier, and he directly tore it to pieces in his hand.

Immediately after, the second, third, fourth Invitation Letters rushed at his face like snowflakes. The originally fairly neat handwriting gradually became scribbled and impatient. And he didn't know if it was the Silver King's illusion, but the Invitation Letters hitting his face seemed to become thicker and heavier... hurting like a burning slap.

In the end, the Silver King saw that only five large words remained on that Invitation Letter:

——Giving you face but you don't want it.

Before he could recover, a force of soul control forcibly grabbed his body and made him fly backward into the Great Red Paper Umbrella. In a daze, he seemed to see his endless purgatory, which made him beg for life but unable, and beg for death but unable, waving at him...

The Silver King's mind shook, painful memories surging into his heart again. In the end, he still gritted his teeth and grabbed that Invitation Letter.

His figure passed through the Fourth Wall and was directly dragged to the very corner of the audience seats, almost staggering and falling to the ground.

At this moment, the crowd in the audience seats had basically all taken their seats.

The Silver King knew he had no other choice, and could only pull out a chair with a cold face and sit down silently in the corner.

The beams of the spotlights converged to a single point on the Stage.

The Red-Clad Performer slowly raised his head...

Chen Ling looked at the audience seats bustling with people before his eyes, his gaze more complex than ever before.

Once upon a time, he was still frightened out of his wits by the dense, pitch-black and hideous Audience below the Stage... Along the way, now, the malicious Audience had turned into those familiar faces that once appeared in his life.

At this moment, Chen Ling was even somewhat in a trance.

Perhaps because of their arrival, this Theater in Chen Ling's view was no longer that bizarre and eerie. It was a bit like...

A true Theater now.