Chapter 400: Side Story 2 - Origin (Yang Yixie Chapter)

Side Story 2 - Origin (Yang Yixie Chapter)

【This chapter is a personal biography of the character Yang Yixie, set for his birthday on March 21, so it's an extra release.】

【I've been agonizing over what to write about this person for a long time, then I wanted to kill myself for setting the two birthdays so close, just because I searched online and found that today is some world online game day......】

1. Fortress

Yang Yixie's childhood memories are warm in tone.

His family's windows face south, and in the afternoon sunlight leaks through the gaps of the blinds; his mother Zhiruo likes to sit by the window at this time to read,

She looks very young; a person in their thirties looks like they're in their early twenties.

And Yang Yichen is the kind of outstanding student who stepped out of a textbook.

Good grades, good discipline, respectful of teachers and the way, united with classmates, even the characters on his homework notebook are neat and tidy; the only shortcoming is probably being too upright.

But this inflexible older brother is the first to step forward when Yang Yixie gets into trouble.

That night Father came home, heard that Yang Yichen had again taken the blame for Yang Yixie, and sat on the sofa laughing for a long time.

He laughed until tears came out, laughing while slapping his thigh and telling Yang Yixie: 'Your brother will definitely suffer a big loss in the future, but whoever ends up with such a brother has blessings cultivated over eight lifetimes.'

Father's work is very busy.

From a young age, Yang Yixie realized that whenever Father said he was going on a business trip, Mother's brows would unconsciously furrow, but Father never let work intrude on family time.

His home was an impregnable fortress.

Yang Yixie lived in this home, as if nothing in the world could hurt him.

2. Rift

Yang Yichen was about to graduate from the Academy.

During that time the household was lively; Zhiruo was organizing the graduation banquet, Father unusually cancelled a few business trips, and Yang Yixie felt everything was too good to be true.

His school grades were not outstanding nor poor, but above average; teachers commented he was 'quite smart, just not hardworking,' and no one knew what he was thinking.

He also didn't tell anyone what he was thinking.

But that evening Father received a phone call.

Yang Yixie came out of his room to get water, and when he passed the living room he saw Father standing on the balcony, his voice breaking up; Yang Yixie only caught a few words—'materials,' 'tomorrow,' 'safety.'

Father hung up the phone and stood on the balcony for a long time.

Then he turned around, saw Yang Yixie standing in the hallway, froze for a moment, and smiled.

"Still awake?"

"Getting water."

"All right, go to sleep early, don't stay up late gaming again."

Yang Yixie went to the kitchen to pour a cup of water, and when he passed the living room he saw Father sitting on the sofa, tightly gripping that old communicator.

The next morning Father wore a dark coat he doesn't usually wear, and slipped that communicator into his inner pocket.

Zhiruo stood in the entryway, watching Father bend to tie his shoes, and suddenly said, 'I'll see you off.'

"No need, I'm just heading back to the company."

"I'll see you off, just for a stretch of the way," Zhiruo said in a light tone, her gaze fixed on him, yet firm.

Father glanced at her and said, 'All right, then see me to the door to get in the car?'

Yang Yixie stood in the hallway watching his parents walk out side by side; Zhiruo glanced back at him, reminding him to remember to do his homework after playing games awhile, and to protect his eyes.

That was the last look she gave him.

Yang Yixie doesn't know exactly what happened that day.

He only knows that later someone told him a modified transport vehicle struck them from the side, and the two bodies......

He doesn't want to hear those details.

He only knows that a crack split open in his world.

3. Choice

Yang Yixie is the only person who knows that communicator exists.

He immediately took it from his father's belongings; everyone was immersed in grief, and no one noticed this.

The files stored in the communicator were encrypted; Yang Yixie disassembled his beloved game console, extracted the data, and then put it back.

That communicator seemed to disappear after being reclaimed by the Dome.

And the data inside was important enough that someone would kill two people for it.

He spent three days deciding what to do.

During those three days he hardly spoke; Yang Yichen thought he was grieving excessively, staying by his side each day, and Yang Yichen didn't initiate conversation, just sitting there keeping him company.

On the fourth day, Yang Yixie finally went out.

He went to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs building, gave a name, the front desk hesitated but still put the call through, and then someone came down to escort him upstairs.

That person led him down a long hallway; behind the door sat a middle-aged man with black hair, looking like a university professor.

But Yang Yixie noticed his fingers—the first joints of his index and middle fingers had thick calluses, from long-term trigger pulling.

"Are you his son?" the man looked at him; this kid is probably about the same age as his daughter.

"Yes."

"What did you bring?"

Yang Yixie placed his game console on the table; after verifying that the contents were all genuine, the middle-aged man fell silent.

"What do you want?" he asked.

Yang Yixie just looked at him; the sixteen-year-old boy's face showed no tears, no anger, nothing at all.

"I want to know who those people are."

The man looked at him, waiting for him to continue.

"Then," Yang Yixie's voice was soft, but each word was clear, "I want to obtain the power to kill them."

The office remained silent for a long time; the man stood up and walked to the window, his back to him.

"Your father is a very competent employee, the most upright person I have ever seen."

He turned around and looked at Yang Yixie.

"We will arrange for your brother to work normally in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs; he will enjoy a normal promotion, will not come into contact with anything he shouldn't, and this is how we should compensate you brothers."

Yang Yixie nodded.

"As for you..." the man fell silent for a moment, "Where are you going?"

"Tianmian City."

Four, Gambling

In Tianmian City's slum, the sky above cannot be seen.

Yang Yixie received the suitcase from a white‑curly‑haired man.

He carried the suitcase and walked the streets of the slum; no one paid him any attention.

After all, in this slum, there is little difference between an ordinary black‑haired boy and a stray dog.

He returned to the inn where he was temporarily staying, locked the door, and placed the suitcase on the table to open it.

Inside lay a syringe; the golden liquid inside the tube swayed slightly, like liquid gold.

He stared at the needle tube for a long time; after injecting it, there are only two possible outcomes.

Awakening, or death.

There is no middle option.

Everyone likes to dream, imagining that they will be glanced at by the gods, awaken powerful aberrant arts, and in one leap become winners in life.

But Yang Yixie did not awaken, nor did his brother; their family was like most commoners, yet fortunately they worked at the Dome, and if nothing unexpected happened, they could live an ordinary, happy life.

It was because he was temporarily blinded by the beautiful illusions at home that he overlooked the world's essential cruelty.

In this precarious wasteland world, everyone must be ready to lose everything at any moment; only by possessing power can one have a chance to recover when faced with loss.

He picked up the syringe, found a vein on his arm, and pushed the needle in.

The golden liquid slowly flowed through the needle into his bloodstream—first cool, then hot, then a pain spreading outward from deep within his bones.

His bones seemed to be restructuring, his blood boiling, and something beneath his skin writhed, as if trying to burst out.

His consciousness sank in the darkness, sank further, down to a place with no light.

The darkness enveloped and accepted him.

Like the earth accepting a seed, like the ocean accepting a river, like a mother accepting a child.

Yang Yixie's consciousness continued to sink in the void, down to a place where even pain could not reach.

Then it stopped.

There was a window there.

Afternoon sunlight leaked through the slats of the blinds and fell on his face.

One person waits in a false dream to be awakened; another waits in a false game for the opportunity to arrive.

The game has already begun, and there is only one player.