Chapter 522

Sunlight filtered through the leaf gaps, casting dappled shadows on the ground, while the void's reflection beneath the shimmering water equally enveloped all things.

"Where is this?"

"My heaven, the horizon of nothingness. Don't wander too far—next door is IX."

Sanskrit chants praised the glory of the Divine of Merit, billions of voices singing in unison; the orderly voice of Taiyi now coalesced upon the Infinite Corridor, its solemn and sacred form manifesting as a cross reflected in the eyes of Sunday, the family representative of the Star of Pinoconny.

"Aside from the prisoner I just sent back after he won the resurrection match, you are the first to arrive here through your own will, child of Order."

From the depths of the vortex of light came a melodious, gentle voice; light and shadow, existence and void, intertwined to form dazzling patterns, adding a mysterious yet serene hue to this solemn space.

Sunday, whose head bore a halo and feathered appendages, fell silent for a moment, then slowly spoke: "How should I address you?"

The Primordial Merit-Infused Boundless Lord Haotian.

Su Lin had intended to say that, but ultimately simplified it: "Primordial Lord."

"The Star God of Hope…" Sunday's eyes, once as calm as still water, now stirred with hidden currents: "Merciful Hope, permit my presumption—why am I here?"

"Order is one aspect of my power. You may regard me as Taiyi's progression, the evolution of Order," Su Lin said. "Since my return, I have reclaimed the ancient divine authority from Hippe. I am now a complete god, sufficient to judge all other gods."

Before he came here, the plot had only reached 2.1; he never expected this big-browed, chicken-winged boy to still be a remnant of Order.

Wait a minute—now he *is* Order. What does "remnant" even mean?

Loyal minister!

"Taiyi."

This answer surprised Sunday, but his mental fortitude was strong; he quickly regained composure: "Of the 107,336 family members, none to this day have forgotten the glory of Order, and all still yearn for its return."

Sunday gazed toward the vortex of light, his expression profoundly reverent.

Soon, from within that blinding white, a figure stepped forth upon light, and ancient verses of Genesis echoed throughout heaven.

"Interesting."

In Sunday's eyes, the holy light streamed away from Him, revealing beneath countless radiances the true form of a handsome young man with black hair and black eyes.

"You are not Otto."

"Otto? He is my emissary."

Su Lin smiled warmly and swung open the grand church door, adorned with ornate carvings and religious motifs: "Since you've come, come inside and chat with me. I've been gone too long—tell me your story, and your family's."

Silver Branch contestant withdraws! White contestant advances to finals!!!

"Yeah yeah yeah, it was Old Man Aha who orchestrated all this, triggering the birth and descent of the Star God of Hope."

At the Aether Front live stream, Su Lin shooed away the swarm of reporters pressing toward the camera:

"I don't change my name or hide my identity—I'm Qiong, the Qiong of Star Qiong. Intellect is a pile of scrap metal, Preservation is a fool, Hunt has no sense of humor, Annihilation is a madman. We, the Masked Fools, act as we please—why should we explain ourselves to you?!"

"Get lost, or keep nagging, and we Masked Fools will blow up your toilet."

The door closed; the private box returned to silence.

"Mr. Qiong, we Masked Fools rarely blow up other people's toilets under normal circumstances," Giovanni said beside him.

Su Lin glanced at him, then turned to Li Huowang: "Check how many faces are under his mask."

Li Huowang nodded, asked no questions, and immediately lunged forward.

Ignoring the pleading cries nearby, Su Lin sat back down, his attention not on the current match, but on the spoilers echoing from within heaven.

The tournament organizers introduced new rules: banning contestants from swapping decks and prohibiting players from personally entering the arena as their own Aether Spirits.

The Abyss Dragon, the Fool God Weapon, and the Light God were permanently banned from the Aether Front, now existing only as memorial Aether Spirits in the database.

Tsk. If you're bad, practice more. If you can't handle losing, don't play.

Why can't he use divine cards?

Forget it. This Aether Front is dead anyway. After watching the match and hearing the spoilers, I'll just return to the train and continue my exploration.

Please welcome the runner-up champion of this Aether Front tournament—the contestant "Star"! Shine forth!!!

"I'm the Traveler from Teyvat, the Galaxy Batton Hero."

Star appeared on camera holding a metal trash bin, pointing at the screen: "I'm not targeting anyone specifically—I'm saying everyone here is garbage."

Su Lin: "..."

Zhongli: "..."

Song Shuhang: "..."

So this is why Huk, originally meant to be the final boss, ended up as a gatekeeper in the Rift Realm?

Of course—when you know the future's direction, compressing the core essence of the meme-star won't be complete without doing something outrageous.

The original tournament format had the four semifinalists challenge the Nameless Guest, contestant "Star," from the Star Qiong Train via a wheel battle; if no one won, "Star" would be crowned champion.

However, to promote the Grand Memory Domain of Aetheria, provide targeted assistance to galactic impoverished planets, vigorously develop Aetheria's unique tourism resources, and achieve strategic revitalization through interstellar corporate cooperation, we have decided to use the former dream of the Star God of Hope's ascension: "Genshin: New Mode!"

After deliberation by the Galactic Aether Front Committee, the current match format has been changed to elimination mode: all eight semifinalists may participate. Specific rules:

"No choice but to find some new Aether Spirits."

Su Lin rose from his seat and walked out: "I'll go see if the top donor and the Entertainment God are free to serve as Aether Spirits—and retrieve the sealed left hand, right hand, feet, and head of the Star God of Hope."

"Where's the fairness in e-sports? Just be a person," Lu Mingfei rolled his eyes.

Su Lin sneered: "I'm just reclaiming the deck my grandfather left me. What's unfair about that?"

To honor the Star God of Hope for equally bestowing hope upon all, the commemorative theme of this tournament is Hope—to express the universe's gratitude for the Star God of Hope's great act of granting destinies to all things! —"Therefore, all Aether Spirits' stats are set to the average value! Any damage exceeding the limit is deemed invalid!"

Everyone has a chance to win the championship! Contestants, spectators—won't you thank the Star God of Hope?

Waves of praise and gratitude flooded the arena; Su Lin stood frozen, his mind drifting elsewhere.

"Thank you, Taro," Lu Mingfei devoutly said.

Within the Memory Domain finals arena.

"So, just what is that guy's background?"

The Core Hunter Silver Wolf pointed to the church's center, where Qiong had bound himself to a cross, idly waiting for players to kill him: "Aelio says he isn't Aha—at most he's the Emissary of Joy—but he has deep ties to that Star God who should not exist."

He is another version of me from a Parallel World, where in his timeline, amber shattered, immortality withered, melodies fell silent, light arrows dimmed, the black sun left only ash, and the tavern was buried in dust—even destruction itself could not escape destruction.

Xing raised his arms, a flicker of sorrow and loneliness in his eyes: "To change all this, guided by hope, he returned to the present."

"This setup feels oddly familiar," Silver Wolf scratched his ear, then swiped his hand across an invisible keyboard in the air and typed a string of code: "Forget it, explain it to Cafca yourself."

Streams of data constructed the images of Cafca, Blade, and Sam in the air.

To Silver Wolf, the company's project team's security system was child's play, but perhaps to chase traffic and hype, the Star Core Hunters' participation in the competition wasn't shut down or criticized—in fact, under the marketing model, it became a hot topic.

Of course, the biggest hotspot was still the interstellar succubus 【White】's allure; rumors said the company's advertising revenue increased by fifty percent year-over-year, and this was only after a few days.

The biggest hotspot was still the interstellar succubus 【Bai】's appeal; rumors said the company's advertising revenue had increased by fifty percent year-over-year, and this was only after a few days.

Xing smiled and nodded: "Hi, Mom."

Everyone turned their gaze toward Cafca.

"You've changed a lot since I last saw you," Cafca's delicate brows relaxed slightly, a faint smile lifting her lips: "Do you know? I'm glad to see you like this."

Su Lin lifted his head from the cross and said: "Really? That's great."

"Haha, what a miracle—to see both of you existing at once," Cafca looked up at Su Lin on the cross and whispered: "Will you call me Mom too?"

"Haha, what a miracle—to see both of you existing at once." Kafka looked up at Su Lin on the cross and whispered, "Will you call me Mom too?"

Xing pleaded: "Brother, at least spare Mom."

A strange silence fell over the room—even Kleine, who had just entered and was preparing to attack, twitched his mouth and chose to close the door and leave.

Too much to watch. An absurd, blasphemous thing.

These two have zero shame.

"It seems you two have a good relationship, but you don't want to tell me your secrets," Cafca smiled, unconcerned: "It's fine. This is good."

She approved of how these two shifted topics and disrupted others' rhythms.

Silver Wolf's eye twitched; he felt as if he'd just been playing some Edo-era non-circulating game. "Then let's start the competition."

Xing rubbed his hair, pulled out an Ether coin, and summoned the Mechanical Iron Man legion, Godzilla from the Alien Reincarnation Space Zoo, and the humanoid Qiong.

"You cheat better than I do," Silver Wolf remarked.

If not for the numerical limits, this silent guy would've secretly won the match.

"Use your AOE mechanism, Sam," Silver Wolf said.

"I shall…" Sam clenched his fist, flames engulfing his body: "Ignite the ocean!"

In an instant, Xing used a teleportation technique to flash before Sam, reached out, and hugged him tightly, rubbing against him.

In an instant, Xing used a teleportation technique to flash before Sam, reached out, and hugged him tightly, rubbing against him.

"Hi, wife."

Xing affectionately rubbed his face against the mech's visor, softly saying: "Lend me your transformation device."

Su Lin also pulled out a historical projection, which appeared behind Sam and embraced him.

"Liu Ying has tried so hard—but you choose me or her? The transformation device can only be lent to one person."

Sam froze in place, as if his language module had malfunctioned; strange sounds emitted from inside the mech.

Sam froze in place, as if his language module had malfunctioned; strange sounds emitted from within the mech.

"I—I'm going back."

Sam dissolved into streams of data and vanished.

"Are they… like that?" Cafca frowned slightly, turned away, and smiled as she left: "Xing, Qiong, I'm leaving too. Listen to me—have fun, get along well, don't fight or quarrel."

It seemed like a retort to Su Lin's address—or perhaps simply playing along with his identity.

In any case, Silver Wolf felt he'd lost the game for no reason.

"Bye, Auntie," Xing waved and called out to Silver Wolf.

Su Lin put away his playful smile, remained seated on the cross, waiting for the competition to end, his attention gradually shifting back to Heaven.

Dull golden light filtered through the semi-transparent glass windows, casting a mysterious and solemn atmosphere over the dark space.

A faint scent of candle wax mingled with the steady aura of wooden altars, latticed windows, and pews; only the voices of two people echoed within the church.

A faint scent of candle wax lingered in the air, mingling with the steady ambiance of the wooden platform, latticed windows, and benches; only the voices of the two echoed through the church.

Su Lin sat inside the confessional, addressing Sunday, who had earlier claimed to wish to confess: "And you, seeking to use your family's goal, intend to use the Star Core and dreams to create a paradise without Star Gods—only Order, belonging solely to humanity."

Since entering the church, one could not lie—only truth, guided by divine will, could be spoken.

But Su Lin's expectations calmed Sunday's soul instinctively; his tone unchanged, he spoke slowly: "A paradise where humanity may live with dignity and happiness."

"I admire your ideal—but it's too idealistic," Su Lin interlaced his fingers over his abdomen; dust drifted in the beam of light, time itself seeming to slow: "Human nature carries flaws; desire prevents all rationality from achieving the complexity of spontaneous order. Such a paradise is ultimately just a dream."

"A dream destined to wake—and inevitably confront reality."

Su Lin had to admit—he liked this man, or rather—

He liked people like him.

Regardless of realism, at least his ideal and pure, sincere kindness added a different hue to reality.

"Reality… the weak are mercilessly eliminated; equality vanishes. In cruel competition, people live in constant peril, struggling to survive."

Sunday did not deny his own conviction because of the Star God's rejection; his eyes lowered, as if recalling how he himself had once sat in that very seat: "Only a few ever succeed. How many set forth with ideals and extraordinary dreams, only to realize midway that they are but fragile, ordinary souls among the masses?"

"For the weak… if a dream, under supreme power, can become a paradise indistinguishable from reality, then the social system chosen by reality stands on equal footing with the dream paradise where all can find happiness."

Sunday did not renounce his own conviction because the Star God had denied it; his eyes lowered, as if remembering how he too had once sat in that very seat: "Only a few ever succeed—how many set out with ideals and extraordinary dreams, only to realize midway that they are but fragile, ordinary souls among the masses."

Sunday rested his forearm against his forehead, his voice resolute.

"You're tired, aren't you?" Su Lin heard his exhaustion, sighed silently, and gazed beyond the crack in the black curtain toward the figure: "You want me to recognize this Order?"

"." Sunday remained silent.

"You're tired," Su Lin heard his exhaustion, sighed silently, and gazed at the figure beyond the crack in the black curtain: "Do you want me to endorse this order?"

"."

Sunday said nothing.

Indeed, he intended to gain the other's affirmation; compared to the Star God, humans are far too insignificant and powerless.

If He of Order has already returned, whether Taiyi or Tai Chu, before the plan is complete, one cannot have one's own choice.

It has always been so.

"Yes."

"I respect your ideal, but you should also let the weak make their own choices—can the order you seek be accepted by all?"

Su Lin had originally thought the other had fallen into a strange dead end and could not escape; grand visions always contain oversights.

Sunday raised his head, placed his right hand over his chest, and said seriously: "Merely describing thought is too abstract. Great One, you should know that in some worlds, there exist social systems of 'two-day weekends' or 'three-day weekends.'"

And 'one-day weekends,' 'no weekends,' and 'compensatory days,' thank you.

"On hard-won days of rest, people are freed from the burdens of life, returning to the peace of their souls, no longer forced to face the law of the strong preying on the weak, gaining brief happiness."

"But such days are still too short."

To be honest, yes.

"So what are you trying to say?" Su Lin asked helplessly.

"So in my view, society's ideal system should be a 'seven-day weekend,' cycling endlessly after Sunday, achieving eternal idleness and peace in the new world."

Sunday clenched both fists, his eyes gaining a touch of resolve.

Su Lin felt as if he had misheard.

But after recalling it again, his eyes gradually grew hollow, his mouth involuntarily slightly open.

OK, now I understand.

"Seven-day weekend?"

"Precisely."

Sunday took a deep breath; the rise and fall of his chest revealed his inner turmoil.

The god in the confessional remained silent for a long time, and Sunday felt he was about to face final judgment.

This prolonged silence lasted for what felt like an eternity, until the church bell rang, each strike like a divine whisper.

"You"

A solemn voice spoke, no longer

as natural and casual as before.

"Will you be my son, child? From this day forward, you are Jesus."