Chapter 646: The Delayed Youth Narrative

Huge raindrops pounded the roof like a drumbeat echoing across heaven and earth.

Zhou Mingrui changed into a black suit with a plain white tie and arrived outside the city’s largest church.

He opened his umbrella, confirmed the WeChat payment, and stepped into the dense crowd.

Luxury cars lined the area everywhere; only he, who had come by taxi, stood out as out of place—but he had no energy to care about such trivialities.

“Come in,” the guard nodded to him.

After verifying his identity, Zhou Mingrui walked along the carpeted path into the church.

The church was filled with candles, their glow like mountains and seas; the organ played a somber mass melody, and a white hexagonal coffin rested on the altar.

The one presiding over the memorial was not a pastor, but a young girl with black hair and golden eyes.

Her long hair gleamed like silk, with delicate bangs framing her face; she wore a black evening gown that clung to her figure, like a proud black swan.

The moment he appeared, camera crews swarmed him like flies, blocking the front and leaving Zhou Mingrui unable to see anything.

He found a random seat, propped his chin on his hand, and silently gazed at the coffin.

To be honest, as a friend, Li Jiatu wasn’t bad.

He often pushed me the WeChat IDs of pretty girls, turned meals into blind dates, and sent me lewd pictures daily, completely ignoring whether I needed them.

Oh, and last time he promised to treat me and Miss Huang Beibei to dinner—he ordered a hundred-thousand-yuan meal at a Michelin restaurant and then vanished.

It was Miss Huang Beibei who paid for me, sparing me the fate of scrubbing dishes with steel wool at the neighboring White Horse Club.

Aside from these annoying things,

he was actually a decent guy.

Zhou Mingrui didn’t look at the “body” inside the coffin; it was said the killer’s methods were extremely brutal—when the police arrived, Li Jiatu’s body had not a single intact patch left.

The sight was too horrific.

“Isn’t that Young Master Shangguan?”

“Young Master Duanmu, long time no see—did Murong and Ye also come?”

Zhou Mingrui glanced at the four second-generation rich kids chatting nearby.

Only then did he realize many of the guests invited to Li Jiatu’s funeral were still discussing business, exchanging pleasantries, and using the occasion to network.

A young man had died, yet no one seemed willing to genuinely mourn Li Jiatu.

Zhou Mingrui fell silent for a moment, then stood up and walked out—he didn’t want to linger in this place of sorrow.

“Zhou Mingrui? Wait.” Someone called out to him.

Zhou Mingrui turned and saw it was Miss Lu Mingfei.

Her eyes were as lifeless as ash, like gold tarnished with dust, cold and expressionless—but for some reason, Zhou Mingrui felt

‘There’s an angry lion in her eyes.’

The thought surfaced automatically in his mind.

The quiet little grove behind the church.

Zhou Mingrui and Lu Mingfei walked side by side along a path flanked by tombstones; Li Jiatu’s sister, Lu Mingze, rushed toward Lu Mingfei as if reuniting after a long separation.

“Big sister~” Lu Mingze clung to her, sobbing:

“While you were gone, Brother Jiatu kept bullying me! He stole my body, but he can’t steal my heart, wu wu!”

Had he misjudged that beast Li Jiatu?

Hearing this explosive revelation, Zhou Mingrui felt all his earlier sorrow had been fed to dogs.

Lu Mingfei’s face visibly turned green.

With all her strength, she peeled the gothic little girl Lu Mingze off her body.

“Go play somewhere else!” Lu Mingfei’s tone was sharp: “Why didn’t you get buried with him?!”

Lu Mingze stuck out her tongue, her face instantly resuming its haughty expression—as if Li Jiatu’s death had affected her not at all.

This family was all a bit off.

“You,” Lu Mingfei turned to him, opened her mouth, and said:

“Li Jiatu mentioned you to me—I’ll keep helping you with the Tai Chu Group’s bid to buy your company.”

Zhou Mingrui was surprised.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

After saying that, Lu Mingfei kept her gloomy expression and walked forward—neither letting him leave nor speaking another word.

Zhou Mingrui thought she was probably too grief-stricken to act normally.

“Please accept my condolences.”

“.”

They walked for a while longer when Lu Mingfei suddenly stopped, standing before a freshly dug grave.

Lu Mingfei stared blankly at the grave; beside it stood an unmarked tombstone.

Overcome with grief?

Zhou Mingrui sighed silently—he wasn’t a talkative person, but decided to find a topic:

“I didn’t know you were Li Jiatu’s sister. I spent a month’s salary on tickets for your first concert—your singing and dancing were full of energy.”

“What do you think of the view here?” Lu Mingfei asked, pointing to the grave, her voice calm: “Do you like it?”

“?” Zhou Mingrui froze.

He hadn’t noticed a small hill far behind him.

“You’re something else,” said a girl with eyebrows like distant mountains dusted with ink, waist-length black hair, and silver-gold eyes, slowly lowering her telescope.

“Don’t move yet,” Li Jiatu, his neck crushed by the Sky Manifestation, eyes rolling back, gasped: “Let me… explain first.”

“The scene at the grave is stable—you don’t need to explain,” said Su Yuling.

“Big sister, why not have some afternoon tea?” Lu Mingze placed a tray of pastries on the table, urging:

“You’ve tried this many times—normal methods can’t kill Brother.”

Su Yuling crossed her legs, gazing at the delicate pastries and cake, paired with white porcelain teaware—now it looked like a noble lady’s afternoon tea gathering.

“Tsk. Impolite little girl.”

Ripples appeared simultaneously on the Sky Manifestation and Su Yuling’s bodies, like water disturbed.

After a moment, the Sky Manifestation transformed into Su Yuling’s appearance, while Su Lin sat in the previous chair.

The scene now showed a girl with slender arms, astonishing strength, lifting a man by his neck with one hand.

Which one is Su Lin?

Both are.

Su Yuling is his image within the dream world; from the moment he entered, Su Lin was locked into the identity of “Su Yuling,” synced with the dream world’s background and setting.

It felt like waking up after a long sleep.

The Sky Manifestation, being an inseparable spiritual entity of Su Lin, was also dragged into this dream world.

And since the rank of the First Sky still existed, his power wasn’t restricted.

Crack.

Li Jiatu’s neck snapped.

The Sky Manifestation retracted; Su Lin’s hair grew again, his facial lines softened, and subtle changes occurred in his bones.

Su Yuling pulled out a mirror, stared at her face—the most beautiful in the world—and sneered: “You should be grateful everyone’s scattered, none in the same place—otherwise”

“Otherwise what?” Li Jiatu twisted his neck, rose from the ground, pointed toward Zhou Mingrui, and grinned:

“That idol persona—the Curse Witch—I made it for myself!”

“If I hadn’t thought you seemed more interested in him, I’d have taken matters into my own hands soon, using the ‘mysterious idol moves next door’ plot to fill my buddy’s emotional void!”

“Don’t you find it fun to deceive an amnesiac, emotionally cold buddy into falling for you?”

“Especially when he wakes up questioning his entire life.”

“Hmm, that does sound interesting,” Su Lin combed his hair back, tied all loose strands into a ponytail with a string.

“You get me?!” Li Jiatu exclaimed: “You’ve evolved this far already?”

“No, I mean—Lu Mingfei, you need to work harder,” Su Lin spoke into the walkie-talkie: “I want to watch this.”

There was no sound from the other end.

Since he didn’t speak, he must have agreed.

Li Jiatu—or rather, Old Lu—had a backup identity in this dream world, so no matter how hard Su Lin attacked, this guy remained unkillable, like he had infinite HP.

But Lu Mingfei was unlucky.

Since Li Jiatu’s identity was occupied by Old Lu, the moment he appeared in this world, he automatically logged into Old Lu’s created Witch account.

That shameless thing had been playing a simulation life here—feminized himself, gone on stage to sing, dance, and rap, becoming a top idol.

“So in his subconscious, I’m the Goddess of Light?” Su Lin frowned.

“Not exactly—I just thought this image was too good to waste, so I made him remember the Goddess of Light,” Old Lu slumped in his chair, weakly smiling:

“So even if you kill me, you can’t revert to your original form in this world~”

Old Lu aided memory recall, reinforced by Kei’en’s cognitive enhancement, creating a false identity based on the “Goddess of Light” and Su Lin’s mental image, fooling the world.

“Has his stupidity always been this high?” Su Lin pointed at Old Lu, asking Lu Mingze.

Crack.

“No,” Old Lu straightened his neck and said:

“If I hadn’t been suddenly trapped here and couldn’t leave, I wouldn’t have gone this far—I just didn’t expect you to find a way in so fast.”

Lu Mingfei had absorbed the City of Catastrophe; when Old Lu discovered that Kleine’s dreams were subtly aggregating all the Origin Qualities, he, with nothing better to do, brought Lu Mingze into this dream world.

Similar to how Su Lin influenced the dream through his Nascent Soul’s connection to the Heavenly Sovereign and the Primordial.

He had only intended to find a place to play and pass the time.

But as he played, the world quietly changed.

A layer of chaos—formless, shapeless, blind and foolish, eroding the primordial spiritual light and dissolving all things—had appeared at the dream world’s boundary, spreading without warning.

Ascend to an Ancient One?

An Ancient One couldn’t orchestrate such a spectacle.

“And you weren’t kicked out?” Old Lu was astonished. “Su Yuling’s character was declared dead.”

Su Lin raised his hand, and the fallen emblem of the inverted Kabbalistic Tree of Life appeared on his palm.

The moment he awoke, a force had enveloped him; before his eyes stretched an unfathomably vast darkness.

At that time, the emblem had dispelled the darkness.

“It seems the Heavenly Sovereign did leave a backup plan,” Su Lin seemed to understand: “Troublesome fellow.”

Probably because his previous fusion with Meng Wangle had led him to discover an alternative ascension ritual.

His apparent resignation, and his use of Nyarlathotep’s status to fabricate reality’s acknowledgment, was merely a performance for Su Lin and others—intended to lull them into complacency, making them ignore or abandon interference with the dream world.

In truth, if the Heavenly Sovereign had already abandoned resistance and lost all sense of self, even if Kleine’s ascension drew him closer to the Blind and Foolish God, Su Lin and the others entering the dream world should not have been targeted or rejected.

The dream world’s anomaly could have only one explanation.

“He is still here.”

【The Heavenly Sovereign retained some measure of self—not in Zhou Mingrui’s body, but within all things of the dream world—so even I am being rejected.】

——Whistleblower · Primordial Creator

Zhou Mingrui believed death was a heavy matter.

Yet, upon the Witch of Calamity’s suggestion, he lay down in the newly dug grave to test whether it was comfortable for Li Jiatu.

This left him covered head to toe in dirt!

Back home, after bathing and changing clothes, Zhou Mingrui began pondering deeply: who would hold a grudge against a carefree, eccentric rich kid?

“Sigh,” he sighed.

He wasn’t a police officer or a detective; thinking too hard was useless.

He gazed at the cityscape as the sun set, at the bustling elevated bridge, sinking slowly into a sense of loss, a spreading helplessness.

As time passed, the sky grew hazy and dim; night descended, and stars speckled the heavens.

【It’s said Li Jiatu had many girlfriends before, and numerous reports condemned him; his current girlfriend is overseas and hasn’t returned—could this be a love murder?】

That’s possible.

Zhou Mingrui felt he could adjust his mood easily; barely moments had passed, and he’d already shaken off the sorrow of his friend’s departure.

There was no choice—life had to go on.

Reason told him so.

Ding dong!

Ding dong!

Ding dong!

The clock’s chime jolted him awake; Zhou Mingrui turned to look at the alarm clock on the wall, then at the time on his phone, stepped forward, and adjusted the hands back to the correct position.

This alarm clock was something he’d picked up at an antique shop—it was old, and required occasional adjustment.

“I should go buy some dinner…”

He glanced at the residential compound and saw no one; he opened the window, stepped onto the sill, and leapt down with practiced ease.

In the wind, his body felt weightless, as if all his worries had been blown away.

Since becoming an assassin, this was his favorite thing to do.

Moments later, he landed like a feather.

He didn’t move further, but stared blankly at a girl ahead, carrying a suitcase—she emerged from the corner, her hair black-blue, her face soft and delicate, dressed in a ruffled dress.

She looked familiar.

“Brother Zhou?” she exclaimed happily.

“Huai Zhi.” Zhou Ming’s pupils contracted: “Su Zi?”

He remembered—Reincarnation Space, missions, Huai Zhi, the Marvel Fuben .

“Help me carry my luggage,” Huai Zhi said. “I’ve returned from studying abroad.”

“Oh, oh.” Zhou Mingrui’s pupils gradually returned to normal.

He remembered—Huai Zhi Su Zi was the child next door, his childhood friend?