Chapter 949: Do You Have Any Last Words, Lin Xi?

Do you have any last words, Lin Xi?

Cheng Shi had no fallbacks left after exhausting all his hidden cards.

All five bolts of Thunder had been spent, the Mask of Fate lost its chance to switch champions, and under Aflous’s “expectation,” he dared not even reactivate Redemption of the Guilty...

So he could only scare Lin Xi, letting the man’s fear recharge his ring once more.

Now it seemed the effect was excellent—Lin Xi alone was filled to the fifth layer.

Coupled with the Fester’s fading enhancement to his physique, even in his Clown form, he could still fight Lin Xi once more.

Yet when he saw that the grand technique he had hidden for so long had failed to take Cheng Shi’s life, Lin Xi lost all will, becoming utterly a “rotten log.”

Of course, whether this was influenced by Chun’s death remains unknown to outsiders; but from Cheng Shi’s current perspective...

A rotten log is rotten indeed.

It’s laughable—here, at this moment, a player who constantly boasted of his piety finally found his true self, reverting to the lost boy he once was.

Yet whether in appearance or mindset, Lin Xi was now beyond any association with the word “boy.”

He no longer clung to his piety, nor did he see Cheng Shi as a target to eradicate divine prophecy—only lying motionless on the ground, his hollow eyes fixed on the cloudless sky above, unsure whether he was pondering the meaning of life or remembering that “unbearable past.”

Honestly, Cheng Shi had never seen such complex emotion in a single face—he didn’t even need to approach; just a distant glance told him that Lin Xi, now rotten, desired nothing more.

Yet ironically, stripped of the Fester’s faith, Lin Xi couldn’t even rot himself—so after a long silence, he painfully turned his head, eyes fixed on Cheng Shi with death in their gaze, and trembled out:

“What... are we even living for?”

Cheng Shi felt Lin Xi’s emotions surging at life’s edge, but that didn’t mean he could empathize.

So hearing this meaningless question of confusion, Cheng Shi sneered:

“Ch—

Now you think to ponder the meaning of life?

Lin Xi, Lin Xi, you can’t suddenly awaken and repent only when you’re defeated—don’t play the victim. I still prefer you when you were defiant.”

“...” Lin Xi’s confusion was momentarily shattered by this mockery, but he had no anger left—only stared blankly and repeated the question again.

Cheng Shi frowned slightly and gave him a casual answer: “To live.”

“To live? Ha, ha ha—what’s the point of living?” As he spoke, Lin Xi wept—this executioner who had slaughtered countless players and treated life as worthless now shed two trails of filthy tears.

Yet Cheng Shi remained unmoved, incapable of empathy, and at Lin Xi’s most desperate, hopeless moment, he drove a heavy blade into his heart.

“You have no meaning in living, because betrayal stripped you of your own life’s meaning.

Lin Xi, don’t forget—your life wasn’t earned by you.”

“I didn’t betray anyone!!!” Lin Xi suddenly sat bolt upright, screaming hysterically at Cheng Shi, “The one thing I’ve always hated most is betrayal! She betrayed me! Chun betrayed me!”

His eyes flickered between memory and tenderness, then rage and hatred—he tore at his sparse hair in madness, roaring like a lunatic:

“She abandoned her faith, betrayed her lover, defected to Prosperity—all to save her own life! Did she ever think that one day she’d still die before me!?

This is what she deserved! She deserved it!!”

Lin Xi’s voice grew hoarse, then slowly faded, “She deserved it...”

He repeated it again and again, as if trying to numb himself, to dissolve his hatred.

Cheng Shi frowned—he could tell Lin Xi’s reaction was genuine, so Chun’s redemption of her lover had, in Lin Xi’s eyes, become betrayal.

No wonder they’d been fighting each other since then, consumed by mutual hatred.

Facing a follower of Annihilation who came to kill him because of divine prophecy, Cheng Shi had no obligation to explain anything to Lin Xi—he’d never explained Carul’s love to Le’er, let alone this mere human’s self-torment.

But thinking of Chun’s trust in him, Cheng Shi sighed and added one final thing:

“Have you ever considered—she was trying to save you?”

“Save? Ha, ha ha—save me?” Lin Xi’s vacant, confused expression twisted violently—he clawed at his scalp until it bled, glaring at Cheng Shi, “O Weaver of Fates, tell me—is saving me stabbing me in the heart!?

Do you know that dagger nearly killed me!?

If not for the Master’s mercy, I’d already be dead in her hands—is that salvation!?

Ha, ha ha—if that’s salvation, I’d rather die in the shadow of the Bleeding Final Tomb—at least then, my memories would still hold someone who loved me...”

Indeed, this was an unresolvable misunderstanding.

Ordinary people couldn’t fathom the will of Fester, but Cheng Shi, who had faced Fester directly, knew—perhaps it was precisely Chun pushing Lin Xi to the edge of death that made their “pitiful” Master feel pity for him, just as He hoped this world’s decay might one day make 【*Him】 feel pity for Him.

And this is likely why the Jester called Fester “the stinking beggar”—for He was begging for alms from the Source, praying for the mercy of the Omniscient and Omnipotent.

This is where fate’s strangeness becomes undeniable.

Chun’s motive to save was good, yet her understanding of Him was wrong—but in the end, the outcome was still “good”... at least the man lived.

But what this living man has done since...

Forget it—if you don’t know how to judge, let’s just curse fate together.

Fate, ever the same in its flawless guise before mortals.

“Any last words?” Cheng Shi suddenly said.

Lin Xi froze—he seemed to already see the Door of Death opening before him—but before he could speak, Cheng Shi raised his hand and hurled three decisive bolts of Thunder, reducing the Fester’s follower to ash.

Shock, confusion, fear, hatred—all vanished in an instant.

“Sorry—I had to deceive you about something.

You came to kill me. I have no obligation to let killers leave last words.”

Cheng Shi shook his head, emotionless, and turned to leave the forest hollow where vast portions of reality had been erased.

He’d said he’d bury the Fester’s maggot in the Grove of Prosperity—but since this maggot was no longer Fester, wouldn’t it be understandable if the burial ground wasn’t Prosperous anymore?

So he clapped his hands and returned to the trial.

But before he could lift his foot, a familiar figure suddenly fell back into reality, landing before him.

Cheng Shi’s pupils shrank—he felt joy in his eyes but stepped back half a pace in caution.

“Chun? You’re not dead?”

Indeed, standing before Cheng Shi was the very Chun whom Hroberos had cast into the world on the verge of annihilation.

Her expression was extraordinarily complex—her gaze passed over Cheng Shi and fixed on the “familiar” pile of ash; her lips opened and closed several times, her face caught between laughter and tears, eyes misted, lost and helpless, as she asked the same question Lin Xi had uttered:

“What... are we even living for?”