Chapter 272: Heaven Bore Me into the Mortal World, Wasting the Scenery, Trapped Between Earth and Sky

Japan's Extraordinary Response Department.

The conference room was silent, the atmosphere oppressive.

In fact, the entire world was the same at this moment—countless people stared fixedly at their screens, awaiting their fate.

As they slowly drew closer, a corner of the ancient city kept growing larger in their field of vision; by the time it was right before their eyes, the mottled marks upon it and the carved balustrades and jade masonry of its halls were already clearly visible.

It was a corner of an ancient, elegant palace complex, like a celestial mansion.

Carved beams and painted rafters, tiered towers of jade, with ink-wash-like mountains, rivers, lakes and seas, and depictions of humans, gods, demons and fiends etched into the walls and tiles of the palace—smoke slanting, mist veering, layer upon layer like Rushan. Especially the central structure of this fragment, built of Bai Yu, radiated a soft white glow throughout, like the moon, like an immortal.

It was as if a wail from the heavens were heard—ha! —the corner of the ancient city slammed violently into the void, like something inside a mirror crashing hard against the glass, trying to break free from within.

The firmament trembled; the earth quaked.

The protective barrier the celestial gods had laid down across the void of the firmament at the original battlefield—countless cracks spread rapidly across it. That terrifying sight made every person's liver and gall feel ready to split from sheer dread.

"We're done for, we're done for."

"Help! I don't want to die!"

Here in Russia, someone was the first to burst into tears, collapsing limp on the ground, snot and tears bubbling, scared half out of his wits.

Don't break!

Please don't break!

Please, please hold!

People prayed madly that the divine barrier would not shatter, that it would hold fast. Yet, accompanied by cracking sounds, came next a shattering, earth-shaking boom.

The faces of all seven billion people on earth went paper-white.

They watched the corner of the ancient city smash through the gods' barrier in the firmament and hurtle out, tracing an arc across the sky.

That direction—toward Hua Nation!!!

The corner of the ancient city shot out through Russia's collapsing firmament, following that direction, charging forward without pause, flying on and on. That angle, that direction, that speed—the place it would crash was Hua Nation.

One could foresee that at the moment of impact, this azure planet would see a massive strike rise at Hua Nation's location, as if a cowboy hat had been placed on a sphere, and then the sphere would burst into cosmic debris.

People did not notice which country the corner of the ancient city would fall upon; they only knew it was over, they were going to die.

Until—across the world, several billion people in despair, on the verge of hysteria—

Time itself seemed to freeze in that instant.

The firmament over that eastern nation seemed to turn transparent, and one could see an ancient great gate swing open. Within it surged a magnificent vista—sun and moon shining together, Shanhe magnificent beyond count, green mountains and clear waters, immortal mist curling. So vast it stirred grand ambitions and heroic words in one's breast; so grand and majestic, so beautiful one could not bear to leave.

And beside a clear little stream, the water clear as a mirror, one could see fish swimming within; sunlight glinted off their scales, rippling in sparkling waves.

A fisherman wearing a bamboo hat and plain cloth clothes.

His beard and hair were both white. He was leisurely flicking a bamboo fishing rod in his hand, casting a line as he sat fishing by the stream. Though it was merely a casual toss, it gave one the feeling of immortal bearing and Daoist bones—ethereal, elusive, like a legendary immortal.

Although they could not see the fisherman clearly, everyone vaguely recognized who he was.

Jiang Taigong?!

Many cried out involuntarily, a surge of hope rising in their hearts.

Then they saw the fisherman casually extend his palm—plain, ordinary, like any commoner's, yet somehow carrying the air of Dao following nature, an immortal entering the mortal world, the ethereal profundity of passing clouds and smoke.

Clearly the fisherman and the corner of the ancient city were in two separate realms, separated by who-knew-how-many myriad miles, by vast mountains, rivers, lakes and seas.

Yet it felt as if he had simply given a light, floating tap of his finger, and the boundless heavens and earth were nothing more than a span between his fingers.

Straight onto the corner of the ancient city.

For some reason, even though the fisherman's finger had only just touched the ancient city and the result had not yet appeared, people already felt a sense of salvation, an inexplicable, immense confidence in this fisherman. The feeling was strange. As if even sitting there, every breath, every pause, radiated power.

Just like Tamamo-no-Mae.

Indeed.

The corner of the ancient city crushed the void, the entire azure planet trembled, the surrounding starry sky shook violently—yet beneath that single finger, it was frozen dead in place.

What might

Just that confident.

Indeed.

The Cold Jade Celestial Palace crushed through the myriad heavens; the Ten Heavens and Nine Earths all shuddered, breaking through realm after realm as it came—yet beneath that one slender, pale finger, it was frozen dead in the void.

A corner of an ancient city capable of smashing a resplendent world and piercing through ten thousand voids—every shred of might, every ounce of force, was obliterated. Even the divine radiance and immortal glow emanating from the palaces within the corner of the ancient city was contained.

A light tap.

A flick of the finger.

The corner of the ancient city was flicked away like a glass marble, sent flying out of the eastern nation, crashing down toward an uninhabited mountain range on the Central Siberian Plateau in Russia.

Amidst a thunderous roar—

The earth itself quaked, rumbling and booming; dust filled the sky like a flood, sweeping out in all directions.

As if it had become a Wang Yang, layer upon layer of sand surged like wave after wave rolling and crashing.

One tall peak was smashed clean in half at the waist; in the end, five more great mountains were collapsed, and it sank into the body of a final mountain. From afar, one could see a corner of the ancient city's palace exposed within the mountain, where divine radiance curled and immortal mist wreathed.

Holy crap!

My heavens!

In every nation of the world, each person first froze—then, as if seized by rabies, grew feverish all over, their eyes blazing with endless, scorching heat.

This is a corner of the city where Tamamo-no-Mae resides!

Who is Tamamo-no-Mae? She is at the very least a powerful being at the Seventh Step of the Divine, one of Japan's Three Great Yokai, the wife of Di Xin, Queen of the Shang Dynasty, a descendant of the Qingqiu clan from Hua Nation's ancient mythology…

Any one of those identities, taken alone, was already renowned far and wide.

The dwelling-place of such a being…must surely contain something extraordinary within.

This was a heaven-sent opportunity!

Rumble rumble rumble!

The sky collapsed, the firmament was healing, and the fisherman inside the ancient Eastern Gate flicked off a corner of the ancient city, preventing Huaguo from being harmed and sparing the earth from a catastrophe of total destruction. He lightly touched a drop of morning dew hanging on a blade of grass by his foot, flicked it with a bent finger.

The dewdrop flew out of the ancient gate, transformed into a skyful of starlight, filling the collapsed firmament and mending it.

"Heaven bore me into the mortal world, idling through the scenery, trapped in the mundane realm. The roc's wings may at times soar ten thousand li, yet still must fly past ten thousand ranges of mountains."

In a soft hum of a tune.

The ancient great gate vanished amid the hazy blur, hidden into the firmament.

The collapsed firmament slowly healed, restored to its original state, yet the world was no longer calm.

Frenzy.

Restlessness.

Excitement.

All across every country and region of the world, very many people seemed to have gone mad.

"Quick! Get me the fastest private jet arranged, right now, immediately! No! Get me a jet!!"

A nouveau riche roared.

Whether in Russia, where the corner of the ancient city sat, or in people far away in other states, many front doors were flung open like violent forced demolitions by family members, who rushed toward the nearest airport while simultaneously tapping open their phones to log into the airport website and buy tickets.

In less than a few dozen seconds.

All flight tickets heading to Russia, and even to countries near Russia, sold out completely.

Yet this was only the beginning. Those on the Eurasian continent who couldn't buy plane tickets simply got into cars and drove over—for the sake of opportunity, they went all out! They prepared to cross Europe by car; even if they arrived late, they still had to go.

Most of these people were racers who arrived a step too late and failed to buy plane tickets.

If they didn't go, there would certainly be no opportunity; going still gave a bit of hope. Who cared if it was late—maybe others hadn't discovered the opportunity, and arriving late themselves, they would.

One could see that on the various countries' highways heading to Russia, everyone who had taken to the road seemed like a car god—racing, drifting through curves, sprinting in straight lines—every driving skill that could shorten time and bring swift arrival was thrown out in full.

Holding this thought, it wasn't only many people on the Eurasian continent riding in cars, buying tickets, driving cars like race cars and charging forward…

Those in the Americas, Africa, and even Australia, if they couldn't buy plane tickets, bought ship tickets; if they couldn't buy ship tickets, they crowdfunded to directly buy fishing boats capable of crossing the ocean.

Everyone had gone mad.

There were even some science-type scientists who directly gathered their teams, broke Guinness records, shattered limits, and aimed to build a boat and set sail within a single day.

Mi Country, Disneyland.

"Nissan! Let's hurry to Russia!"

Kamikawa Chie blinked her big eyes.

……

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