Chapter 476: This Time, I Will Not Lose (Grand Finale)

As expected.

He gambled with the terrifying beings through a game of chess, wagering the outcome of past and future.

Then the future ceased to exist.

The River of Years halted its evolution.

He gambled with the terrifying beings by staking the victory of past against future; if the future continued indefinitely, time would inevitably surpass the past—that was unfair, for the future could be infinite, but the past was but a finite span.

Thus, the future’s ending was destined.

From the most brutal future in which He was born, the future no longer had a future—time seemed to freeze, halting at that cruel ending, becoming the final outcome.

The River of Years also ceased its evolution.

This scene reminded Kamikawa Mitsu of the six Supreme Beings of the future, who had once spoken of the past and seen that the ending was already sealed, which is why seven future Supremes had reversed time to destroy Him.

The truth was correct.

He made the future inevitable, erased the future’s future, leaving only cruelty—and the ending was sealed.

No wonder the seven future Supremes sought to destroy Him.

All of this was caused by Him, yet no one knew it was an unavoidable consequence.

To win the game of chess, sacrifice was required; payment had to be made.

Even the Supremes knew only that the future was sealed—that all beings who reached that era were destined for destruction—unaware that the future’s ending was not truly fixed; if He won the game, the future and the entire world would begin anew with fresh hope.

But it could not be spoken.

The game between past and future required a reason, and He bore that blame, becoming the pivotal figure in the great war between past and future.

He himself made the move, he himself opened the game.

“He is gambling for all living beings, yet the world knows nothing of His sacrifice, bearing the blame—if the game fails, mortals will never know the truth, and He will become the eternal sinner.”

Kamikawa Mitsu fell silent at the end.

What a heavy burden—no one could help Him; only He himself carried it. This was true burden-bearing for all living beings.

He knew the truth of the game.

Kamikawa Mitsu still remained in this void; the events continued.

It was His game against the terrifying beings.

A game between past and future.

The future sought to destroy the past; the past sought to destroy the future. It seemed to have begun because of Him, yet the past merely sought to defend—unaware that their victory or defeat would determine the world’s fate.

Kamikawa Mitsu did not watch the progression of this game.

He already knew the outcome; there was no need to watch further. Now he must consider another question.

That question was himself.

He was him; he was He.

If anyone were here now—especially those who had perished here—they would surely notice Kamikawa Mitsu’s aura gradually changing.

Perhaps it was witnessing too much, as if he had lived through all He had done.

Perhaps it was lingering too long in this void—His memory—that Kamikawa Mitsu’s aura subtly shifted, drawing closer to Him.

If before, at the altar, Kamikawa Mitsu and He had been like two similar flowers, now Kamikawa Mitsu was He—identical in every way.

That calmness, that stillness, that resolve.

The departed would surely believe: He has returned!

The Kamikawa Mitsu before him now was He; He had recovered His memories.

But if Takee Sashiko were here, she would see differently from the departed.

She could see that Kamikawa Mitsu had become like Him, yes—but within those deep eyes, the light had not changed; that gaze was the one she knew: Nisan, the one who loved her, who had planned the entire script of the Primordial Realm for her sake.

Kamikawa Mitsu had not changed.

True, he had recovered He’s memories; he was now indistinguishable from Him—he knew He’s thoughts, He’s experiences, He’s everything.

But it was only knowledge.

As Kamikawa Mitsu himself knew, no matter what, he was still himself—and that could never change.

Now he was merely burdened with an additional set of memories.

Just as when he, as Wang Zun, had crossed over into Kamikawa Mitsu’s body and become Kamikawa Mitsu—he had only gained Kamikawa Mitsu’s memories; his inner self had not changed, only accepted them.

“This was what you did for me.”

Kamikawa Mitsu whispered. The crossing from Wang Zun into Kamikawa Mitsu’s body must have been one of His arrangements, meant for this very day.

To gain He’s memories—yet Kamikawa Mitsu remained Kamikawa Mitsu.

He needed Kamikawa Mitsu: needed someone who was Him, yet not Him. For He had already lost once to the terrifying beings; they knew Him. But Kamikawa Mitsu was Him, yet not Him—that was the difference.

Put plainly, if He merely reincarnated and regained His memories, He would be playing the game against the terrifying beings a second time—and likely lose again.

A change was needed. A variable to alter the course of this restarting game.

Kamikawa Mitsu was that variable.

“Was Takee Sashiko’s Awakening Mouth… your arrangement—or his?”

Kamikawa Mitsu recalled Takee Sashiko’s Awakening Mouth. Was it His design—or had the terrifying beings planted it to guide Kamikawa Mitsu?

After thinking, he leaned toward the latter.

The terrifying beings had granted Takee Sashiko the Awakening Mouth—intentionally steering Kamikawa Mitsu, accelerating this process.

He remembered clearly: the departed had told the First Holy Spirit he had arrived at the altar far earlier than expected.

The terrifying beings must have been eagerly awaiting another game. Such beings cannot be understood by mortal logic—but Kamikawa Mitsu understood them, for he was He, and had once played against them.

All truths, all mysteries, were now revealed.

And at this very moment.

Kamikawa Mitsu had watched the end of His game with the terrifying beings—He was indeed about to lose.

Only one final move remained—once played, it would seal His defeat in this game.

That final move was the last battle in the Land of Yin.

Until the very moment of defeat, He never gave up—forcing a path to survival from an inevitable loss. Yes—he entered the Gate of Reincarnation in that final battle.

That was why the Supreme One had said they could not retreat: they already knew this final battle was lost; the only way was to delay—until He stepped into the Gate of Reincarnation.

So they could not retreat. They had to hold on.

“What painstaking planning. No wonder the departed and the First Holy Spirit became skulls—they too were pawns in His game, willingly becoming pawns, only to die when the final battle was lost.”

Yet they were special—they could not truly die. They became skulls, eternally guarding the Gate of Reincarnation, guiding me at the same time.

I wish I could speak with you, my past self.

Kamikawa Mitsu’s gaze fell upon the void River of Years, now reaching its final battle—He walked toward the Gate of Reincarnation.

He watched His back.

He watched Him take slow, steady steps—without a trace of panic—toward the Gate of Reincarnation. Though He was walking to death, the world would lose Him forever, yet He never faltered, never feared, from start to finish.

Then He stepped into the Gate of Reincarnation.

At that moment, He turned—not to linger on this world before death, not to gaze upon it one last time—but lifted His head toward the heavens.

At that moment, Kamikawa Mitsu’s gaze met His.

He was looking at Kamikawa Mitsu!

Across memory, across distance, the two locked eyes.

“I leave the rest to you, my next life.”

He smiled faintly, turned, and walked into the Gate of Reincarnation—from then on, the world would never know him again.

…

Land of Yin, altar, Gate of Reincarnation.

Kamikawa Mitsu stepped out of the Gate of Reincarnation.

“Welcome back. What should I call you now?” The black skull floated upward, sensing Kamikawa Mitsu’s changed aura—he had recovered his memories.

“Kamikawa Mitsu.” Kamikawa Mitsu whispered.

…

Spring passed, autumn came.

Day after day.

Three years had passed since Kamikawa Mitsu recovered He’s memories.

Three years meant nothing to gods and demons, yet felt long to mortals—and to the world, three years could bring countless changes.

In these three years, countless events unfolded, including within the Primordial Realm.

Kamikawa Mitsu used the Script System to continuously plan scripts, accumulating Script Points to ascend, and with the aid of the departed and the First Holy Spirit, the scripts progressed smoothly and rapidly.

Now,

the Primordial Realm had become the undisputed strongest world in existence; all beings across the myriad heavens and worlds—gods, demons, immortals, even Supremes—held the Primordial Realm in awe.

Across the myriad heavens and worlds, full connectivity had been achieved in these three years. Under Kamikawa Mitsu’s guidance, the Jixia Academy’s drama scripts flourished.

Today,

was precisely the third anniversary of Kamikawa Mitsu recovering His memories.

At this moment, he stood atop Hangu Pass, behind him stood Takee Sashiko, Li Gui, Xia Mei, the departed, the First Holy Spirit—his loved ones, companions, and confidants.

“System—no, I mean you. I know the System is your final lingering will. All these years, thank you for your companionship. This is the last time I’ll use you. Your mission is over—and mine begins. I will inherit your will, and carry your share of the game forward.”

The aura of a Supreme radiated—after three years, Kamikawa Mitsu had reached the Supreme Realm.

As he spoke, Kamikawa Mitsu softly said:

"System, exchange for the character, Him!"

With that familiar system prompt sounding, Kamikawa Mitsu became the One!

Now he was Him, and yet still himself.

Having become the One, Kamikawa Mitsu felt no great excitement—calm and steady, he slowly lifted his gaze toward the distance, as if piercing through all things.

He took one step forward.

He appeared upon the River of Time, and before him stood another figure.

That was the "Other Player," a terrifying entity.

"Come, let us begin this game—this time, I will not lose."

A cold, tranquil voice issued from his lips.