Chapter 675: The Post-Generation of Hiling

I originally thought that once the bridge project succeeded, we could rest easy, but who knew

who knew we were just leaving the Xinshoucun ?

Inside the massive pyramid, hundreds of mainframes were synchronizing computations; each mainframe had ten levels, and each level held dozens of hot-swappable host slots.

In the hive-like palace, a man with an ordinary face but solemn attire was conversing with a little girl one meter tall.

“Always maintain a learner’s heart toward the Void—even toward Void beings.”

“Alright, honey, don’t stress yourself too much.”

“Our journey is the endless Void.”

Don’t misunderstand—the man’s name is Chen Jun, and the little girl calling him “honey” is a Hive-style co-processor Hive Host, a standard Hive Fortress Thought Core named Pao Pao.

Chen Jun, male, age (?), is the leader of the Divine Nation.

“It’s not that I’m stressed—just thinking that beyond our dimension’s Void lie infinite other dimensions’ Voids, and the Abyss appears in all of them too—I feel like I won’t be able to clock out for a very long time,” Chen Jun sighed.

“Fortunately, our dimension is special—the Void and Abyss phenomena are unusually active, lying along the inevitable path where cosmic debris or proto-universes fall into the Abyss, accumulating plenty of samples and data,” Pao Pao said:

“But based on current collected information, it’s not universally applicable.”

Chen Jun nodded: “That’s why we need to seize this chance to establish contact with more universes across other dimensions.”

Their conversation gradually grew quieter as both turned their gaze toward a coffin-shaped transparent device, where a gap opened and Yuyun Zi’s figure emerged.

“Sorry, she still won’t agree,” she smiled apologetically.

“Well, there’s nothing we can do—you’ve worked hard.”

Since the Empire shifted its research focus to other dimensions beyond the Macrocosmic observation, and interdimensional travel through the Void became easier, the gap spirit Yuyun Zi underwent some special changes.

Her realm ability was enhanced, and she could now connect with countless Yuyun Zis from the Fantasy Realm, among whom one Yuyun Zi was extraordinarily powerful.

Precisely because of this case, a door opened to the next tier of World Interference Theory.

After prolonged research, scientists discovered that certain subordinate planes of the Empire originated from other dimensions—these were spacetimes already destroyed or severed, lingering in their dimension’s Void before sinking into the Abyss, where they were later absorbed by the Empire.

The beings within these planes remained utterly unaware of external changes, continuing their lives as before.

Currently, confirmed individuals like “Kirisame Sakura” are cooperating in experiments to locate their original universes beyond the dimension through object information.

Regrettably, the only one successfully contacted so far is “Yuyun Zi.”

“The dimension where the Fantasy Realm resides is currently chaotic; with our help, the situation would improve considerably,” Chen Jun said.

Pao Pao frowned: “If she refuses to establish formal contact, it means she can handle things herself—but she hasn’t kicked you out, which means she’s treating us as a backup, ready to use us if she ever hits something she can’t handle.”

“You’re being way too scheming.”

The Third Law of Thermodynamics states entropy always increases; the direction of ever-increasing entropy corresponds to the arrow of time, forever forward and irreversible.

In fact, the negative entropy flow proving Maxwell’s Demon’s existence has already been found; the notion that time isn’t one-directional was long ago deduced from Newton’s equations.

The Fantasy Realm—or rather, that world—is experiencing a natural cosmic barrier’s decay, caught in a Baodong of negative entropy flow, causing matter, energy, space, and time to fall into disorder.

Meanwhile, the vacuum zones within the Void are gradually narrowing, making interdimensional travel simpler.

This has caused various beings and objects from other worlds to appear in the spacetime codenamed “Fantasy Realm”—some are probes, others accidents.

“That’s just her personality,” the Shadow City Yuyun Zi chuckled awkwardly.

In fact, she too tried contacting other Yuyun Zis across dimensions, but all of them trusted the strongest “Youkai Sage” without exception.

It’s understandable—if she were in that position, she wouldn’t trust a “herself” endorsing an outside force.

Especially when her realm reaches the level of a Creator’s power.

The Shadow City Yuyun Zi had a hunch: perhaps all the Yuyun Zis from different Fantasy Realms could be seen as one being, and she herself was excluded because she had interfaced with the Empire.

“Ahjun, my new invention is ready!” Sandora’s mental link rang in Chen Jun’s mind.

Soon after, they saw the golden-haired Empress arrive at the Hive, bringing along the entire Fantasy Realm group from Shadow City.

“What’s this?”

Chen Jun watched his wife, who loved inventing, pull out a device that suddenly expanded like pulling a prop from a magic bag.

It looked somewhat like a camera.

“A camera designed for Void beings.”

Really a camera?!

“By leveraging your Void-being traits, we’ve granted the camera universal adaptability—and we’ve modified it further using the causality of its counterparts.”

She pulled over the Shadow City’s security chief, Ling Meng: “Simply put, have Yuyun Zi send this device over there to gather information without being detected.”

“I’m still on duty—skipping work deducts pay.”

“Triple your monthly salary.”

“I’m ready!”

This Shadow City security chief had high awareness.

The girl prayed silently.

Seeing Kaguya during the day, especially in the afternoon, is extremely rare—its probability is no higher than encountering a Pachinko machine or a rare Pokémon on the street.

“Did you go to Youkai Mountain?”

“I went, but not fully.”

“The Temple School?”

“I stayed overnight.”

“The Hakurei Shrine?”

“I just got back.”

The two exchanged questions and answers while Kaguya marked checkmarks next to place names in a small notebook.

“What are you doing?” Su Lin asked.

“The first phase of the Paradise Plan still has the Red Magic Hall and the Lost House left,” Kaguya said. “When are we going to capture that old purple hag?”

Su Lin’s lip twitched: “Have I ever carried out your plan?”

Should I loudly declare, “I’m determined to become the harem king of the Fantasy Realm”?

“But…” Kaguya suddenly grew melancholy, her eyes glistening. “Even that old purple hag’s notebook has more entries than mine.”

“Then draw your own.”

Would any normal person develop rivalry or revenge over something like this?

“Is that so…” Kaguya thought, then said: “Then I’ll draw it—you must keep it safe, and don’t let Irene find out.”

Su Lin: “?”

Before he could speak, Kaguya pulled out her phone, pressed play, and a voice identical to Su Lin’s—but far more carefree—spoke out.

“When I was studying…”

“Ora!”

The Azure Celestial Form appeared, delivering a punch synced with Su Lin’s voice.

But the phone, when it fell to the ground, remained unharmed—permanently enchanted.

Tap-tap-tap

After bouncing a few times, the phone continued playing:

“I’ve done many wrong things to Kaguya’s notebook, because you’re my favorite self-play character. No self-play? Oh, then… my favorite 300 heroes.”

Have I even played that game?

Xiao Yan, who had just walked into the room holding a box, paused, and under their stares, asked: “What’s a notebook?”

“Literally,” Su Lin changed the subject.

He changed his mind—he abandoned the idea of sacrificing Su Tuoni’s head to heaven for fortune, and now planned to find Yao Tian later and offer Su Tuoni a Grade Nine Great Restoration Pill in his name.

How many things had that bastard said using my voice?

“Oh, let’s try this first.”

Xiao Yan didn’t dwell on the previous topic but privately messaged Ye Fan, Meng Qi, and others to describe what he’d just witnessed.

Su Lin picked up a pill with a white jade hue and exclaimed: “Your efficiency is truly impressive.”

“It might not work,” Xiao Yan poured cold water: “Try it first—wait, get Kaguya’s help.”

“Kaguya?” Su Lin glanced sideways in surprise.

Strictly speaking, this isn’t a pill; according to Su Lin’s explanation, his internal laws and information would passively reach ultimate transcendence when complete, so based on the current situation, Yan Sen proposed an idea.

Continuous filling.

Using Zhao Shuang’s information and backups to craft the pill, and at the instant of fusing with Heavenly Dao power, have Kaguya apply her ability of Eternity.

But there’s a problem: if successful, Su Lin’s internal laws will regress to the version two iterations prior.

“Alright… let’s try it.”

There’s nothing to complain about in this situation.

“Shall I feed it to you?”

Kaguya held out the pill, but then noticed Yiling, who had walked up behind Xiao Yan, rubbing her temples as if she had a headache.

“It’s fine—I already know from Miss Zhao Shuang.”

“Yiling, I’d like to know exactly what you know,” Kaguya asked, puzzled.

She slipped the pill into Su Lin’s hand.

Su Lin looked at Zhao Shuang, whose white hair shimmered; she nodded at him.

‘I’d also like to know what the two symbols of great wisdom just said.’

He swallowed the pill, infused with Eternity, and linked his spirit energy—not to absorb it, but to use it as a power source to maintain law integrity.

“How is it?” Xiao Yan asked urgently.

“Warm…” Su Lin hadn’t finished speaking when a faint glow appeared on his body, not blinding, with a thin veil of black aura spreading at its edges: “It might work?!”

Whoosh—!

Countless gear-sized magical array runes surfaced and began to rotate, compressing Jizhi energy, while the surrounding space twisted.

Inscribed in the Eternal Furnace Core, the primordial law of creation, the Light of the First Dawn achieved resonance and coverage.

“Blessed be the Heavenly Lord of Xuanhuang, Blessed be the Divine Emperor of Xuanhuang.”

“I am One, and I am All; I am the Beginning, and I am the End.”

Su Lin’s Nascent Soul reappeared, draping him in a semi-transparent cloak and light-and-shadow effects.

He sensed the spiritual imprints and soul entities of his two old friends—they, unusually, made no movement, as if overjoyed by his recovery.

Finally, the Golden Core reformed; though the luminous shadow immediately struck the Golden Core to smash the Nascent Soul, Su Lin intercepted it.

The Law of Light solidified into six radiant wings, crystallizing behind him.

“This is the path I came by.”

Under the gaze of Yuyin Yonglin and others, he slowly rose into the air, positioning himself at one diagonal corner of the vast, deep-blue cosmic manifestation, extending his fingers toward it.

Xiao Yan couldn’t help saying: “Can you stop showing off?”

“Same as before,” Su Lin grinned, giving Xiao Yan and the stunned Yuyin Yonglin a thumbs-up: “Miraculous healing, Doctor!”

“You might as well not speak at all.”

The moment the Cosmic Manifestation touched it, the Kabbalistic Tree of Life mark reappeared.

And at that instant.

Everyone felt as if instantly cast into the deepest darkness, eternally sinking.

Then, a sphere of light slowly expanded, rising, illuminating, birthing infinite possibilities through collision, exhausting all transformations.

A human silhouette was outlined upon the divine throne, then

Thud!

He sat down empty-handed, landing hard on his buttocks.

Countless dust-like particles restored, linking together, reconstructing all things in the world.

They stared at Su Lin, sitting on the ground with a pained expression like cracks in shattered porcelain; the ceiling of the Eternal Pavilion had vanished, leaving a vast hole.

Had only one second passed? Or two?

“Failed?” Himeko pinched Su Lin’s mouth open to look inside, then released him: “The pill infused with Eternal Power is gone.”

“Doctor, I think I can still be saved.”

Su Lin retracted the Cosmic Manifestation into his body, rolled his eyes, and fainted again.

【Prototype energy charge complete. Mathematical core stability maintained within safe threshold.】

【Disengage first through third safety valves. Void form entering adaptation phase. Adjust causality, presence, material form, establish logic.】

【Adjustment complete. Confirmed no gaps or traces remain in the surroundings.】

A squirrel appeared beneath the snow-covered grass outside the Hakkai Shrine, poking its head out, surveying its surroundings, reflecting the silver-clad world in its eyes.

As if startled, it scurried up the tree with its tiny paws and vanished into a hollow.

But

Its winter food stores were nearly gone.

With no choice, it ventured out again; after searching in vain, it set its sights on the Hakkai Shrine.

Recording in progress.

“Does it really need to be this complicated?”

“If you’re going to act, act fully. This is a natural squirrel—it even has a history. It must behave exactly as a squirrel would!”

On the projected screen, the squirrel searched everywhere for “food,” actually synchronizing a map data model and gathering relevant information.

“It’s just like the shrine I used to know in Gensokyo. What’s so interesting?”

“It’s the fortress hub of the Hakkai Great Barrier—of course we must examine it carefully. How come you weren’t holed up in your room at this time in this Gensokyo?”

The squirrel passed through the torii, leaping along the treetops until it jumped into the open window of the house to search.

“Maybe she went to deal with the anomaly?”

Reimu, the city inspector, lay in her chair sipping tea, her body wired with instruments but utterly indifferent to the recording.

After all, someone else was controlling it.

“What deities do you worship at your shrine?”

“Deities? Of course the shrine has deities—but I’ve never known which one, so I’ve never had much incense. Once I tried enshrining the big oak tree at the gate and ended up messing up the Great Barrier.”

“But the you in this Gensokyo seems to be worshipping a deity.”

At this, Reimu, the city inspector, lifted her head in surprise.

On the recording screen, a red-and-white shrine maiden with a similar face carried a bag, her clothes dusted with snow, as if she had just returned to the shrine.

She placed three sticks of incense and an orange—cut in half—placing one half behind the offering box, near the interior of the house.

Worship?

“Go take a look.”

After the shrine maiden left, the squirrel spotted its target, scurried toward the orange, paused to check its surroundings, then clutched the food and lifted its head.

A cross.

Three statues.

A hanging painting.

A seal.

All placed together.