Chapter 350: You

The final line of text is just six big characters.

You're neither a piece nor a hand!

Not a piece.

Nor the hand that moves the pieces.

Then only one possibility remains.

Could it be that I, damn, am this chessboard?!

Or perhaps…

Bang!

Without any warning, with no prelude at all.

That huge book page hovering in midair slammed shut abruptly.

A wave of gray‑white air slammed down headfirst.

The gust hit his face, making his cheeks ache, and Su Ming was forced to close his eyes.

When he opened his eyes again.

The chair was empty.

The person was gone, and the book vanished completely.

Only that broken folding chair missing a leg remained, standing alone on the cracked yellow earth of the wasteland.

"What fancy nonsense is this again?"

Su Ming hurried over.

The control of his body finally returned to his own hands.

He walked up to the chair and looked down.

On the rust‑covered seat lay something.

An unlit cigarette.

Exactly the same as the one clutched by the silhouette inside the city Gate cave.

"So, the one who caused this spectacle is still him…"

Su Ming reached out to take it.

But his fingertip just touched the pale‑yellow filter—

Snap!

The sky split open.

It's not an exaggerated description.

It was this dark‑red firmament being torn open by an indescribable colossal force from directly above, creating an abyss‑like gash.

There was no light in the fissure.

Only a single eye.

A gigantic eye looking down from beyond the plane!

Vertical pupil!

Not the golden hue of his usual eyes.

But a chaotic color he has never seen in his life!

If one had to find a precise word to describe—

It's like throwing the blinding white of day and the abyssal black into a meat grinder, crushing them completely and extracting an unknown death‑light!

That eye was unfocused.

It wasn't looking at Su Ming.

It was looking at everything below.

The entire cracked wasteland.

The broken folding chair.

The charred ash of the burnt book pages.

And the unlit broken cigarette at Su Ming's feet.

All Karma, laid bare!

"Damn it, what the hell is that?"

Su Ming stared fixedly at the sky.

Suddenly.

The massive, boundless eyelid above slightly drooped.

It wasn't a normal physiological blink.

But… contempt!

Or perhaps, utter disappointment.

A buzzing sound rang in Su Ming's mind.

Pain?

Hardly a pain at all.

It was a terror ten thousand times more primal than skin‑flaying cramps!

Like a higher‑dimensional being scrutinizing a paramecium in a petri dish.

Ultimate insignificance!

That was a despair where a life's tier was crushed below even dust.

Fortunately, the fissure lasted only an instant before it began to heal rapidly.

The eye vanished.

The sky restored its blood‑clot‑like dark red hue.

But…

He saw it clearly.

Before the fissure fully closed.

Something fell from above.

A piece.

A thin, semi‑transparent fragment.

The fragment drifted lazily and settled steadily in Su Ming's outstretched palm.

It had no temperature.

It had no weight.

Su Ming squinted and scanned.

Sss—!

His heart missed a beat.

The surface of the fragment clearly reflected a face.

But it wasn't his face.

It was…

His father's!

Before he could figure out how deep the water was.

Buzz—!

His vision went black in an instant, and an extreme sense of weightlessness swallowed him.

"Huff! Huff!"

A mouthful of foul air, nearly suffocating him in his chest.

Su Ming, like a dying fish, sprang up from the bed and gulped air greedily.

An old residential block's room.

His own bed.

He turned his head and glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand.

4:44 a. m.

Everything was as usual, with no abnormality.

He wiped his face with the back of his hand.

The warm skin and the rough stubble felt unmistakably real.

"It was just a dream, right?"

"Who the hell can still sleep?"

Su Ming muttered, flicked on the bedroom light, and rolled over to get out of bed.

But suddenly, his palm sensed something odd.

Su Ming looked down, and his whole body froze.

It was…

A face.

Precisely, a perfectly peeled facial replica.

The bridge of the nose, eye sockets, the curve of the mouth…

All flattened into a plane.

Like a perfectly peeled facial replica.

But the contours of those features.

Matched the father in his dream who wore a worn jacket, held an unlit cigarette, and had golden vertical pupils—

Exactly the same!

A physical‑level dream projection?!

Materializing out of thin air?

Void‑bursting gold coins?!

"Playing on this scale?!"

The Eye of Truth instantly activated, and golden light wildly surged within Su Ming's eyes.

But.

The piece lay calmly in his hand, without triggering any analysis panel.

"Old skin, new bones…"

The faded, yellowed tome from his dream, its letters looking as if burned by a branding iron, exploded again in his mind.

Old skin.

Does the one he's holding now count?

"It's getting more and more baffling."

Su Ming rolled out of bed.

His back‑worn T‑shirt was soaked, clinging to his skin, cold and sticky.

What can be confirmed now is that what just happened wasn't a dream.

At least, it wasn't an ordinary dream.

A normal dream wouldn't leave you holding something in your hand when you wake up.

Something utterly defiant of the heavens must have seized the window when his consciousness sank and forcibly dragged his soul into a private realm.

The silhouette in the city gate, the black fog, the prophetic massive book.

And that final one, whose vertical pupils could crush a human soul with a casual glance.

Can't be provoked.

The current him simply can't be provoked.

"Take it one step at a time, put it away first."

Su Ming's mind flickered, attempting to seal this sinister membrane into the Dimensional Reduction Warehouse.

Swish.

The item vanished; storage successful!

"Huochai Ge?"

Su Ming called out in his consciousness.

No response.

"Hey?"

Still dead silent.

Su Ming frowned.

Inside the Dimensional Reduction Warehouse, there was not a trace of feedback.

It didn't seem like Huochai Ge was simply ignoring him.

It seemed more like the signal was completely cut off.

Like calling into a dead zone, not even a dial tone.

"Come out!"

Su Ming hauled the Crimson Throne straight out of the warehouse.

The altar sat quietly on the bedroom floor, steady and obedient.

At its apex, the massive blood‑red heart continued its methodical beating.

Sixty beats a minute, rock‑steady.

Not even a half‑punctuation‑mark fluctuation.

"Fine, you can't provoke me and still can't hide?"

Su Ming shook his head, re‑stowed the item, completely cutting off the line of questioning.

Crying to heaven gets no answer, crying to earth yields nothing.

No way!

"Whew!"

He exhaled, not planning to sleep again.

He went to the bathroom, turned on the tap, and splashed cold water onto his face.

The icy sting woke him up a bit.

The face in the mirror wasn't much different from usual.

Handsome.

The dark circles under his eyes were a bit deeper.

He then walked to the window and yanked the curtains open.

Outside, the eerie Gray Rain kept falling.

In the dim yellow streetlight, the rain threads looked murky, as if mixed with ash.

Gray‑white puddles ran down the curb, gurgling dirty foam as they entered the sewer.

The whole Jiangzhou city exuded a scent of annihilation, as if all life were dying and the living were being scorched.

The streets were empty.

Even the Official sentinels who would watch the gate cracks twenty‑four hours a day had vanished into some hidden corner to dodge the rain.

Below, the rain‑soaked rose bushes had leaves curling and yellowing at the edges.

Not the wilt from lack of water.

This charred color.

And the scorch marks on that massive book…

Exactly the same!

Su Ming pressed his slightly cool forehead against the glass and stayed silent for a long while.

Only that sentence kept bouncing behind his skull.

【The Dragon Eater Will Awaken.】

He lifted his head, quietly watching Jiangzhou's gray‑hazy skyline.

In less than an hour.

This strange Gray Rain will vanish on schedule, ushering in a brand‑new dawn for the altar era.

"Still can't just wait for death…"

Su Ming fished a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, and blew bluish‑green smoke onto the glass.

"Whether you eat dragons or eat dirt…"

"These goods from the First Emperor's Tomb, I'm definitely taking them!"

"I hope First Emperor can give me a truly exciting surprise…"

"If nothing else works, a scare will do!"

……