Chapter 664: Paparazzi Text

I’ve become a relic of the old era too.

Using a proxy to flip through the Masked Rider manga stolen from Xing, he holed up in Gensokyo to recover, posing as the god of the Type-Moon universe.

“Without noticing, I’ve lost my status as a two-dimensional creature,” Su Lin gazed at the moon and sighed. “Life truly is impermanent.”

“No, what exactly are you lamenting about since just now?”

Lu Mingfei frantically mashed the controller; on screen, the Great Snake executed a combo that eliminated Huai Shi’s Chun-Li, securing the Street King title.

“I’m mourning my lost youth,” Su Lin sighed again.

Kleine played Black Myth alone and said, “I don’t really get your anime world.”

The console, screen, and controller were all retrieved from Su Lin, though he claimed they were picked up from the trash downstairs; Kleine still erased some numbers from the calculator.

“I paid the broadband and phone bills while you were gone!”

“I didn’t use them, so I won’t pay for them.”

Kleine watched the character’s health bar empty and the screen dim, then snapped his fingers to cancel the “Deception” effect on himself.

The Mandate Holder who just lost to Tiger Vanguard was the office drone Zhou Mingrui; the current Mandate Holder is the Fool, Kleine.

You really came here to play games?

Su Lin withdrew his gaze and glanced at the 3G network indicator on the communication device.

“I’d better go fish the monkey out and banish him back to the mortal realm.”

But then my leave of absence would end prematurely.

“Let Meng Qi handle it?”

“What exactly do you want me to do?”

Speak of Meng Qi and he appears.

“No matter what you need, I can’t assist you right now,” Meng Qi smiled faintly.

Kleine glanced toward Meng Qi and said, “Do we need the incantation to reproduce yesterday?”

“That would be meaningless,” Meng Qi shook his head with a smile.

The man before him had all his acupoints sealed, his dantian empty, his dharma body reduced to mortal flesh, and even karma no longer flowed but coiled tightly around him.

Sever the self, become mortal.

“Can you just stop overworking yourself?”

Su Lin suddenly felt oppressive pressure, like in high school when his best friend in the back row promised to slack off together—only to discover during the monthly exam that the guy had been pulling all-nighters.

Where is this place?

A secluded land far from human clamor, chosen for divine concealment—absolutely no place for the modern phenomenon of overwork.

“Isn’t it because I was afraid you’d be lonely, so I severed my cultivation to keep you company?”

Meng Qi laughed heartily, appearing carefree: “I’d have reached this point eventually anyway; might as well give myself some leeway.”

He had already begun planting projections across countless worlds to spread the legend required for his Dao-certification, yet this final step still held problems.

Perhaps it had something to do with the weight of his karma far exceeding his original fate.

Now, as Meng Qi pursued the essence of legend, even though he understood all beings were Primordial, he still faintly sensed he was missing some “key element.”

He couldn’t articulate it—logically, with his current depth and wisdom, he shouldn’t be unable to comprehend “who I am.”

After much thought, he still chose the path of severing the self to see the self.

“Did you seek out the Celestial Immortal Bi Jingxuan?”

“To be honest, given my current state, even a Celestial Immortal’s Hunyuan Golden Dipper couldn’t achieve this.”

Meng Qi denied it: “I entrusted it to Yan Sen, a friend who’s been lingering here out of interest in alchemy. I came by to deliver a message for the students of the Heavenly God Sect.”

Su Lin, Shi Hao, and Ye Fan all came here due to external factors; here’s a guy who severed his own cultivation, truly here to experience becoming mortal.

“A real one.”

“Such a rare opportunity—why not sever your cultivation with me and seek your true self from a new perspective?”

Meng Qi said to Su Lin.

In the brief time without his cultivation, Meng Qi’s mind had calmed and gained a sudden insight.

Some things are meaningless even if known in advance; only by personally experiencing them can one gain true understanding.

“Good idea,” Su Lin nodded. “I’ve often wondered—is what makes me me only the myriad arts, the Dao’s origin, the era of creation, and such external things?”

Zero points—this kind of showing off is inferior.

Meng Qi silently rated it in his mind, but the moment the thought flashed, Su Lin continued:

“After severing my cultivation, my cultivation might become free.”

“What do you mean?”

“My cultivation might come alive.”

“...”

Perhaps due to his mortal body, Meng Qi felt he couldn’t quite grasp what the other was saying—only that it felt terrifying.

He fell silent, deciding not to pursue the topic, and moved beside Kleine:

“You just used one life—let me take over.”

Is this some kind of otaku gathering?

Mostly because night had fallen, and now wasn’t the time to tour Gensokyo.

Su Lin thought for a moment and decided to find Kaguya for some mind-altering spirit crows; if his guess was right, Neet should be deep in her fixed boundary, grinding endless visual novels.

“Not here?”

Inaba no Miko startled violently, leaping several steps back to a corner, keeping a wary distance from Su Lin.

This human is strange.

A group of rabbit demons were sweeping the room with brooms; the floor was littered with trash, paper scraps, and game discs scattered everywhere.

Perhaps he’d entered a state of time dilation, playing for who knows how long.

Otherwise, in just a few hours, he’d generated this much trash—he could practically be Xing’s resource respawn point.

“Young master, hand me those games.”

Su Lin pointed to a pile of game discs held by one of the rabbit demons—ranging from major titles like Cyber Sword Immortal 2077 to trashy moe games like The Witch’s Banquet.

Amitabha Buddha—he had come here to beg for precisely this.

“I thought you’d come looking for the princess,” Inaba no Miko sighed in relief. “She went to the Labyrinthine Bamboo Grove to meet that turkey.”

As long as this peculiar human wasn’t here to demand the princess for himself—he had no idea who these humans were or how the princess had met them.

Turkey?

Su Lin paused, then his eyes gleamed: “Fujiwara no Miko?”

He collected the games into his storage pouch, asked roughly where in the Labyrinthine Bamboo Grove, then walked down the corridor.

Inaba no Miko watched Su Lin’s retreating back, pondered for a moment, then her lips curled upward into an exaggerated smile.

She pulled out an old flip phone and dialed a number:

“Same as always? This time is different...”

“Extra charge.”

“Turkey, didn’t you eat dinner tonight?!”

“Bitch! I’m gonna mix your ashes with my rice!”

“You used to call me ‘big sister’~ Now you just call me ‘bitch’?”

“Damn it! Don’t gross me out!”

Bamboo soared into the clouds; green leaves swayed gently in the wind, shimmering like emerald waves under the firelight.

White hair danced in the air current; crimson eyes reflected Kaguya’s nearly flawless face, save for her mischievous smirk.

Still as infuriating as ever!!!

A colossal fire phoenix spread its wings, screeching as it hurled multiple fireballs toward Kaguya.

This phoenix flame, capable of burning all things, was met without evasion—just as it had countless times before—enduring the agony of regeneration and destruction, then walking forward...

“Turkey, you’ve made zero progress—the goblins should’ve leveled up by now!”

Numerous icy talismans, weapons, and a laser cannon Kaguya pulled from nowhere all targeted the fire phoenix.

Sharp weapons pierced the phoenix, sending it crashing to the ground—only for Kaguya to immediately be punched down by a pale fist.

“Cheating bastard!”

“You hit my face?! Fire Chicken, I’ll sell you to the Zhetian Trading Guild as meat!”

Blood splattered, brains scattered; heart, liver, intestines, lungs, spleen, kidneys, eyeballs lay everywhere; soil turned dark red and viscous from heat and blood.

Hatred, grudges—perhaps they were present—but both had consumed the Penglai herb and were immortal.

So this was just entertainment.

Obsessed with killing each other.

Only this way could their near-eternal lives avoid driving them mad!

Mad.

Her fists were torn open, pierced by bone spurs; Fujiwara no Miko tilted her neck upward, exhausted, looking down at Kaguya’s bloody, mangled face still wearing that disgusting smile.

The beauty that once resounded across the land, even drawing her father’s pursuit, vanished for a moment.

Perhaps she had been mad long ago.

This woman was mad too.

We’re all mad.

“Pah!” Fuwara Mihō spat out a mouthful of bloody foam with a tooth in it: “Hieon’s calculus lessons these past few days have made me furious—I feel better now. You’re not up to it today.”

“No wonder your IQ’s only nine, Turkey.”

Kaguya laughed while spitting blood: “Look inside your belly!”

Fuwara Mihō lowered her head and saw a cold, bullet-like metal object inside her torn abdomen.

“A toy like this—”

Before she could finish, countless blades burst forth from her body.

“A special-order artifact of mine!”

Kaguya sneered and pulled out a lotus-shaped bomb: “I shall share with you the sensation of being torn apart by gravity.”

Beep.

The red indicator light flashed several times.

“Took the wrong one? Whatever—hss—!”

Kaguya dropped Stark’s portable Flame Lotus, and as she rose to her feet, both her feet were pierced and seized by a pair of palms bristling with steel blades.

“Turkey, you—?!”

BOOM~~~!

After the threads of flame surged and dissipated, a rain of blood fell upon the bamboo grove enchanted with the Eternal State.

Moments later, two naked bodies crawled on the ground behind a rock and began dressing.

Both wore grim expressions and said not a word.

Click.

Footsteps crunching on bamboo leaves approached from afar.

“Who’s there? Get out here, you bastard!”

Fuwara Mihō, still not done fastening her belt, stood up and shouted toward the other side of the rock.

The footsteps grew closer, and the approaching figure made no effort to hide—walking straight out into view.

It was a man—monster?—with an organ hanging from his head, a deep-blue humanoid figure behind him clutching two hearts, his face caked in blood.

When Time Stop fails, this is the result. And this isn’t my hometown—the God of Light is at full power.

He stared blankly as he plucked the organ from his head and asked: “Whose is this?”

“I’d say it’s about seventy percent cooked. Want some?” Kaguya stepped out, pulling her shirt over her shoulder, smiling: “Eat my pancreas.”

“Reverse Heaven.”

Su Lin tossed the organ over.

Several thick branches were propped over the fire, skewered with various vegetables and chunks of internal organs.

Fat dripped onto the flames, sizzling as the fire leapt up, releasing an irresistible aroma.

The smoke from the roasting drifted upward, blending with the mist above the night sky. Three young men and women sat on dry tree stumps beside the fire, silently watching the meat cook.

“You always do this?”

“Sometimes we boil soup, sometimes we roast meat. If we’re too lazy, we just mix some mustard with soy sauce.”

“There are fresh bamboo shoots in the grove you can use as side dishes.”

Based on Su Mou’s many years of medical experience, these two were mentally unstable.

He pulled out a jar of honey glaze and handed it to the two busy figures.

Brush on oil, sprinkle some cumin, chili, and sesame, flip them again—the kid next door would be crying from hunger.

Good heavens, even Hannibal would call this professional.

“You sure you don’t want a skewer?” Kaguya held up a roasted white onion sausage: “Even Turkey’s eaten organs before—give it a try, you’ll get used to it.”

Curiosity satisfied by a bizarre sight is one thing, but Su Mou’s culinary ambitions weren’t heading in that direction.

“Fine, then have this.”

Kaguya rummaged through the pile of scraps behind her and pulled out a thigh bone: “You usually eat dragon liver and phoenix marrow—how about some roasted turkey bone marrow as a substitute?”

“Since the treasury tightened, I haven’t seen any luxury items except peaches from the orchard,” Su Lin rubbed his brow with his right hand.

“Don’t be polite—consider it thanks for these spices. You’ve got more varieties than even Xianglin Hall sells.” Fuwara Mihō bit into a piece of roasted liver with gusto: “Do you know this woman?”

“Know her…” Su Lin finally tore his gaze from the food and turned to Fuwara Mihō.

She wore a work shirt on top and red suspenders below, covered in talismans.

She wasn’t tall, and the contrast between her masculine speech and her soft, feminine face—especially her pure white hair and crimson eyes—was nearly triggering some innate DNA-level attraction.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Fuwara Mihō asked.

“There’s no ‘Turkey’ character in the Fantasy Land Transformation Plan,” Kaguya shook her head disdainfully.

“You don’t react to me or Reisen—but you respond to this butch? Your sexual preferences must be twisted.”

“That’s appreciation,” Su Lin interlaced his fingers, propping his chin as he gazed at her.

“My main reason for coming to Gensokyo was to meet you.”

Fuwara Mihō stopped chewing. She stared at the man, then glanced at Kaguya, nearly leaping off the stump.

“I—”

“Don’t mind it,” Su Lin brushed dirt off his pants and smiled: “We’re divorced already. Eat slowly—I’m heading back to Eternity Pavilion.”

He’d even seen the paper doll that used to hang in the room.

Honestly, the roasted meat smelled delicious. Su Lin now wanted to go back and get some normal food.

Click.

The camera flash lit up briefly.

A girl with black wings retracted her camera, glanced at her small notebook, and nodded excitedly at Su Lin: “Thank you so much! Next time, please give us an exclusive interview!”

Whoosh.

Only a few black feathers remained in the air.

The Celestial Manifestation had just appeared—and caught nothing.

“That was…” Su Lin’s expression stiffened; he turned back uncertainly.

“Ah,” Kaguya said, chewing on her meat: “Paparazzi.”