Chapter 220.2: Good Night, Spring City Part 2

Ji Jue’s eyes widened as he tried to make out more details, but the image abruptly blurred and faded away.

A hunched figure standing directly in front of the engine suddenly turned his head, as if he had sensed something. The figure’s aged face was hairless and deeply lined with wrinkles.

What stood out most were his emerald-green eyes—cold and unfathomably deep, like dark caverns leading to an unknown place. Yet deep within them, strange flames blazed with a terrifying intensity, seeming to reach from the earth all the way to the heavens. It took only a single glance from the man for all perception to vanish.

Ji Jue staggered backward, drenched in cold sweat, as the last remnants of the altar collapsed at his feet. Although he had observed the old man for only a fleeting moment across an immeasurable distance, every instinct warned him that nothing good would happen if the man realized he was being watched.

Although Ji Jue had never met him before, he was certain that the old man was Jian Yuan, the craftsman who had cast aside the title of Master as though it were worthless, entered the realm of Putrefaction, and came to rule the Depths.

Even so, Ji Jue could hardly keep his attention on that face. The only image lingering in his mind was the engine he had seen in that brief, passing vision. And then there was the symbol on the engine, one he knew all too well.

Ji Jue couldn’t move. With some difficulty, he lowered his head and looked at his wrist. It was Skyrail. There could be no other explanation. Was there another wrecked Skyrail Corporation train buried beneath Spring City?

“Let’s go.”

Once everyone finished clearing the site, Tong Shan waved his hand to signal them to move out. After taking two steps, he stopped in confusion and looked back. Ji Jue was still standing near the collapsed altar, not moving a muscle.

“Hey, Mechanic. Stop standing there like an idiot,” Tong Shan said. “We don’t have time to waste.”

Ji Jue said nothing as he looked toward a corner of the vault. Amid the dust and rubble stood a lone dog. Ji Jue had no idea when it had appeared, but it no longer had its usual enthusiasm or eager attentiveness. Instead, it cowered timidly, like it was caught hiding a bone and a can of food, or chewing up the bedsheets. Its eyes were lowered, and its tail was no longer wagging. It stood in the corner with its head down, yet it couldn’t help sneaking glances at Ji Jue.

After twitching its nose, it let out a soft, quiet whimper. It sounded almost like a plea.

Ji Jue closed his eyes, lifted his face toward the sky, and let out a soundless sigh. I knew nothing good would come from getting involved with your lousy, bankrupt company. I fucking knew the dog President had not come all this way to check on his employees out of kindness or to hand out benefits. But just how big of a mess did you people leave behind? We never even signed a contract. Why make things difficult for a temporary employee like me?

Ji Jue kept his lips sealed and his face expressionless as he withdrew his gaze. President lowered its head in disappointment.

As the group moved out, Ji Jue kicked one of the mutilated corpses on the ground, turning its unfamiliar face upward. He asked, “Mr. Shan, how much do you think I resemble this guy?”

Tong Shan frowned. He was about to correct the craftsman, telling him that while they were working, he should address him by his position, and while they were on a job, he should call him Mr. No-Fun, but he understood what Ji Jue meant and looked at him in shock.

“No!” he said, rejecting Ji Jue’s implications.

Ji Jue shrugged. “Wouldn’t this work out even better?”

“I said no!” Tong Shan shot back, raising his voice. “I’m the captain here. I make the decisions.”

“But I’m outsourced labor, and we never signed a contract,” Ji Jue said with a smile as he looked at the man. “Besides, you know this is obviously the better option, don’t you?”

Tong Shan fell silent, unable to say a word. With so little time left, he couldn’t afford to hesitate. He had to make a decision, and he had to make it now. Suppressing a weary sigh, he asked one last question. “Have you made up your mind?”

“Yes,” Ji Jue nodded. He removed the various items he was carrying and placed them one by one into his toolbox. “There are some things I want to see for myself. I have to go. Lou Feng should be enough to handle the craftsman’s work, right? Besides, I might even find some information about his aunt.”

After a moment of silence, Tong Shan asked, “What about the identity verification?”

“The central system is right there,” Ji Jue replied with a careless shake of his head. “I can alter it however I like.”

“What about the aura of corruption?” Tong Shan pressed.

Ji Jue grinned. With a flip of his hand, he drew the bone blade. An aura or corruption emerged from his soul as naturally as if it had been born there. “Do I not look corrupted enough to you?”

“And your face?”

“My face won’t be a problem. Reshaping it will be easy.” Ji Jue drove the bone blade into his face and reshaped his cheekbones and jaw. Despite the pain, his fingers remained perfectly steady throughout the process. “As for whether my face looks similar enough... It has already been burned once. I’ll just burn it again.”

Tong Shan sighed and forced down his disappointment, regret, anger, and lingering unwillingness to accept the decision. Just as Ji Jue had said, perhaps this really was the best method. Besides, Tong Shan had no more time to waste.

“Hold still.” After putting away the flagpole, Tong Shan took out a box. With stiff fingers, he opened the lock on it and removed an utterly ordinary-looking steel pen. It looked so light that it hardly seemed worth mentioning, but the moment it fell into Tong Shan’s hand, his palm trembled, as if he could barely support its weight.

Tong Shan assumed his Rebirth form. His skin turned as pale as paper, while large amounts of ink-black blood seeped from the cut on his wrist. The steel pen absorbed it all until at last Tong Shan staggered and nearly lost his balance. Only then did the pen finally restrain its ravenous appetite, sparing its user the slightest bit of dignity, but the faintly mocking pulse of spirit matter it emitted made its contempt clear.

The nib of the pen swept across Ji Jue’s face, bringing with it a searing pain that felt as though it were burning through his soul, piercing every part of him. Ji Jue convulsed, but telekinesis pinned him firmly in place, leaving him no way to resist.

At last, the pen finished writing a new identity over him, replacing everything that had come before.

From that moment onward, the central system’s records, the verification embedded in his soul, the history inscribed in his body, and even his surface memories were all rewritten. The Chosen One named Ji Jue vanished, and in his place stood an apprentice craftsman from the Depths.

“Praise Putrefaction!” Ji Jue bared his teeth in a feverish smile. He looked every bit like a genuine follower of corruption, without the slightest flaw in his disguise.

“When the time comes...” Tong Shan began but didn’t finish his thought. There was no point in saying anything now. Grimacing, he sighed. “I owe you one.”

“Both of us are getting what we need. There’s no point keeping score.”

Ji Jue removed the watch from his wrist, tilted his head back, opened his mouth, and swallowed it with a gulp. Then he stabbed himself with the bone blade, watching it merge with him and disappear without a trace.

Finally, he changed into a tattered black robe.

“Let’s begin.” Ji Jue handed the toolbox over, looking at Tong Shan one last time with a smile. “Make it quick. Don’t hold me up. I have to switch sides!”

Tong Shan closed his eyes, then raised his hand.

Boom!

Ten seconds later, Tong Shan left, and the team disappeared into the darkness of Spring City. Immediately after, an explosion shot into the sky. The central system was damaged, the bank collapsed, and flames spread everywhere.

Half a minute later, blazing light descended from above. An invisible hand slammed down, and all the flames were extinguished in an instant.

Multiple figures landed at the scene. After assessing the situation, they flew into a rage and pursued the fugitives into the darkness. Unfortunately, it was already too late. Before long, a second group arrived, followed by a third. After inspecting the ruins, they scattered through Spring City. When the final group arrived, the giant hand lifted slightly.

At once, numerous chunks of rubble and broken walls rose into the air and were thrown aside. Anything that still had value was recovered, loaded onto vehicles, and taken away. Then, in front of a gap within the ruins, someone paused. He turned back and waved to his companions. “Hey, come over here. Look at this!”

Wedged between two collapsed floor slabs was a charred figure, seemingly a craftsman’s apprentice. Both his legs were broken, and his face was covered in blisters. Barely clinging to life, he reached out with one hand and groped weakly for a moment before running out of strength.

The man in the lead rubbed his chin and clicked his tongue in wonder. “Hm? He’s actually still breathing? Lucky bastard. Call the craftsmen over and have them take him away!”

From the ruins, the dying survivor smiled faintly. He raised a hand and gently patted the empty space in his arms where he had been holding something. Then, reassured, he closed his eyes.

Good night, Spring City.