Chapter 339

"You are too impulsive."

"Now, are you willing to be quiet and listen to my Gospel?"

Jiang Yuan feels the staff's cold metal touch, and his gaze is forced upward.

He stares at the two pitch‑black eye sockets under Sai Men's Mask, where a faint red glow flickers, and no emotion can be read there.

A bloody scent rises in his throat, and his chest aches as if torn with every heartbeat.

He tries to speak but can only emit a hoarse gasp, a surge of anger blasting from his dantian straight to the Heavenly Spirit Cover.

"I... go to your mother!"

Jiang Yuan gathers all his strength, jerks his head sharply, avoids the staff's touch, and spits a mouthful of blood straight at Sai Men's Mask.

Inside it, his shattered dignity mixes with all his resentment.

At that moment, the air solidifies completely.

Sai Men does not dodge, not even turning his head. The foul blood mixed with organ fragments lands precisely on the Gray Mask's forehead.

Yet it leaves no trace, as if evaporated instantly by an invisible force, leaving only a clean, dust‑free mask.

He straightens up, the staff twirling lightly on his fingertips, the eyeball whirring as it surveys Jiang Yuan.

"Hm? That's impolite."

In Sai Men's voice there is no hint of anger, only a hint of teasing, as if commenting on a disobedient brat, his light remark sending a chill down the spine.

"You..." Jiang Yuan struggles, trying to push his body up from the ground. He cannot understand why the opponent, so powerful, would still engage in this almost bored trick.

This cat‑and‑mouse humiliation makes him feel like a toy being played with.

"Since you have such power," he pants, his gaze fixed on Sai Men, flames flickering in his eyes, scorching his reason.

"Why turn this city into a meat grinder? Treat everyone as actors on your stage?"

He coughs up a froth of blood, too busy to wipe, letting blood and sweat cling messily to his face. The scent of blood spreads in the air, irritating his nerves.

"You... what exactly is your purpose!" Jiang Yuan shouts, his voice filled with resentment and confusion.

He recalls the fallen members of the Investigation Bureau, that heavy sacrifice.

He remembers the innocent survivors, the hope once in their eyes, mercilessly crushed. This is fundamentally a meaningless slaughter!

Sai Men gently shakes his head, the swaying Eyeball Staff like a sinister metronome, striking a silent rhythm.

He no longer faces Jiang Yuan, but turns his back, hands clasped behind, pacing the ruined rooftop.

Expensive custom leather shoes step over broken marble, producing a light, regular tap‑tap sound.

"Purpose?" Sai Men's voice is gentle yet carries an indescribable fervor, a coldness that wraps fanaticism as truth. "I only want to save. We humans are too weak, too foolish."

He stops before a broken floor‑to‑ceiling window, fingertips lightly grazing the shattered glass edge.

Outside, the scarlet Blood Moon hangs weirdly, dyeing the whole city in apocalyptic crimson, like a massive diseased eyeball, coldly overlooking everything.

"Your history is full of self‑destruction," he says slowly, his tone steady as if narrating a prewritten script, full of prophetic destiny.

"From primitive tribal wars, to cold‑weapon slaughter, to the advent of nuclear weapons. Your so‑called 'civilization' ultimately points to one end—mutual annihilation."

"You are cancer cells, only proliferating, eventually destroying the host. Isn't that why the North American Union self‑destructed a city?"

Liang Wenqiang props himself up, the veins on his knife‑gripping hand bulging, his arm trembling violently from overload.

He uses all his strength to try to say something, but can only emit heavy breaths, each drawing a tearing pain.

He sees his own body, his shaggy hair turning gray‑white at a visible speed, as if all life were instantly drained.

He knows this is the price of borrowing from the future, yet the searing pain now pales compared to the shock of Sai Men's words.

This madman, so casually, depicts humanity's extinction as an "evolution"?

"Weird is the universe's gift to life, the ladder of evolution," Sai Men's voice continues, like a morbid lullaby, slowly seeping into everyone's consciousness.

"It strips away your fragile humanity, eliminating selfish, greedy, foolish inferior genes. Only by embracing it, becoming it, can one truly achieve life's Elegant Ascension."

He turns, the eye holes behind the Gray Rock Mask seeming to pierce the shattered space, staring into the deepest part of each person's heart, as if probing the ugliness of their souls.

"Elegant Ascension, understand?" he says like a fanatical preacher, his voice filled with absurd pity, a condescending compassion for lower life.

"This is not destruction, this is... rebirth. This is a grand surgery, excising civilization's cancer. I am merely the one handing over the scalpel."

He spreads his hands, the slender white hands, as if displaying a work of art, yet also inviting them to touch sin.

Su Ming leans against the wall, drenched in blood and grime.

He listens to Sai Men's words, his mind unusually clear, like a high‑speed precision machine.

Since rebirth, he has witnessed too much human depravity, knowing the rot and greed hidden beneath civilization's veneer.

This madman's theory is absurd to the extreme, yet like a sharp scalpel, mercilessly tearing humanity's self‑proclaimed false façade, touching a certain cruel truth.

"So this Blood Moon game, you also orchestrated?" Jiang Yuan's voice is low, bearing a bone‑deep chill.

He stares at Sai Men, the fire in his eyes never extinguished, the indomitable human fighting spirit. "You and those Weird, colluding to toy with humanity? Treating everyone as fools?"

Sai Men chuckles lightly, twirling the staff, the eyeball at its tip turning oddly, like a restless planet.

"I help them, they help me." He lifts his head, his gaze turning to the scarlet sky outside, a flash of madness in his eyes.

"The wish I am about to make." Sai Men's voice suddenly becomes soaring, bearing a sacred ecstasy, an excitement poised to ignite the world.

"It is to let Weird descend upon this world completely and universally!"

Liang Wen jolts violently, excruciating pain blurring his vision, his heart pounding. Global? Comprehensive? His body tenses, trying to grasp this casually phrased yet mountain‑heavy statement.

If this is true, then the Federation, the Investigation Bureau, all their efforts, the fleeting peace bought by countless sacrifices—what does it amount to?

This is not only Jiang Hai City's apocalypse, it is the twilight of all humanity!

"Let those humans still hiding in safe zones, dreaming of false peace, enter the survival‑of‑the‑fittest furnace sooner." Sai Men's tone becomes fervent, full of agitation. "In the end, only the strong survive. And those who have already embraced the Weird—'New Humans'."

He throws his arms wide abruptly, as if embracing the whole world, yet also proclaiming a silent judgment.

"I will make the whole world know the existence of Weird. Then, those who wish to join Weird will make... the 'correct' choice."

Sai Men waves the staff once, pointing at Jiang Yuan and the other two.

"You." He examined them with a gaze that appraised treasures, as if evaluating three perfect test subjects. "In the Blood Moon game your performance qualifies as 'High-Quality Material'. You possess a unique power and a rare 'Awakening'."

He paused, and his voice became gentle, yet even colder.

"Generously, I throw an olive branch to you." Sai Men spread his hand, as if bestowing a supreme gift. "Preserve your sanity, join the New World, become among the first 'Apostle' of the Weird Era."

"Become a 'New Human'."

He smiled, the smile beneath the Mask as if inviting them to share an eternal feast.

That look was practically saying: surviving and becoming one of us is your greatest honor.

"Escape the fate of elimination. Escape… being devoured alive and reduced to a tragic end as Weird nourishment."

Jiang Yuan spat a mouthful of bloodied saliva. Blood strands mixed with dust splashed on the ground, mingling with shattered cards, glaringly bright.

Pah!

He endured excruciating pain, struggling, step by step to stand upright. The Spinal Sword snapped, the cards shattered, his power crushed.

Yet the human spark deep within his heart, the belief that will not bow to evil, burned fiercely, supporting his teetering body.

"You are an absolute lunatic!" Jiang Yuan roared, his voice hoarse, with a resolve to burn the boats behind him. "Using humanity's fate as a gamble, what god are you? You're just a… self‑righteous piece of crap! 'New Human'? I think you're a new ghost!"

Liang Wen propped himself on his knife, his body swaying violently, like a dying candle in the wind.

He forced himself to lift his head, that pale face forcing out a cheesy grin.

The gray‑white hair, like winter's withered grass, could not hide the unyielding flame deep in his eyes.

"Dark-Blooded King," his voice low, bearing a strange solemnity, "will never bow… to those disgusting monsters."

The tip of his knife, held in his hand, pointed straight at Sai Men.

Su Ming leaned against the wall, his gaze icy.

He lacked Jiang Yuan's hot‑blooded impulse, and also lacked Liang Wen's over‑the‑top steadfastness.

He was merely a reborn one who had been betrayed countless times, deeply aware of human warmth and coldness.

He pulled a piece of chocolate from his pocket, tore open the wrapper, slowly shoved it into his mouth; the chewing, at this moment, seemed unusually calm and ironic.

He sneered.

"The thing I hate most," Su Ming's hoarse voice said, "is being used by others as a pawn… arranged."

"New Human?" Su Ming spat again, blood‑tinged saliva spilling from his mouth corner, which he casually wiped away with the back of his hand. "Stop kidding. You're just another self‑righteous … dog. Who do you think you are, a savior? In my eyes, you're merely a pretentious husky."

Under Sai Men's Mask, the pure crimson eyes, through the black eyeholes, carried a playful, mocking tone, and an suffocating cold.

He tightened his grip on his staff, lightly tapped the ground, producing a faint sound that felt like a hammer striking the three's hearts.

"What a pity," Sai Men's voice, no longer gentle, no longer bearing any hint of missionary zeal.

His tone was flat, yet imbued with an irrefutable authority, like a deity proclaiming a verdict.

"Since you have refused the god's gift."

Sai Men took strides toward the three. Each step felt as if treading on their heartbeats, the subtle tremor of the ground like a death‑summoning sigil.

"Then."

He stopped before Jiang Yuan, the staff in his hand rising slowly once more.

"Hand over the admission ticket."