Chapter 811: My Apologies, Hell

Sir Aiwen and the others all fell into silence.

Lynn shook his head, propped his chin on his hand, and said with a grin, "I'm not sure exactly what it is, but it gave me a faint feeling. If falling into hell is a form of protection, then could it mean that the one protecting me is this very hell?"

Everyone was shaken.

No one spoke.

And the air around them seemed to grow subtly colder.

Lynn dusted off his hands and said softly:

"Of course, it wasn't entirely to prove my hypothesis. I was indeed rather impulsive back then. After all, my friend was suffering terribly right beside me while I remained completely unharmed. Keeping a clear head under those circumstances was genuinely difficult, so I just... provoked it a little."

Everyone shuddered.

Provoked it... a little...

Using the authority of the Goddess of Fate to command hell to execute what you wrote, and even asking hell if it dared...

Could that really be described as "a little"?

Lynn stretched lazily and looked up, saying:

"And now that I think about it, I really was afraid. Being watched by something like that... even though it did nothing at all, I still felt like I was truly about to fall apart. That's why I thought, even if it really would protect me, I could never get close to it. Because just a single gaze from it was almost enough to kill me."

Sir Aiwen's expression was grave.

He once again recalled the diagnosis they had made when they first discovered Lynn's shattered, broken body.

It was as if every authority within him had failed at once. He lost his self-healing ability, his cells lost their vitality, and even his consciousness began to collapse. Yet this hell had done absolutely nothing. It had only looked at him once, and all the rules had begun to waver.

Even the Substitute Death Doll, such a terrifying death-replacing artifact that he clearly possessed, had failed to trigger.

He frowned deeply and said, "So is it not what you thought? This hell didn't protect you. It didn't..."

"No." Lynn said softly:

"Big Brother Aiwen, you're wrong. This incident actually made me truly certain that what's protecting me is this very hell."

Everyone was stunned.

Lynn smiled and adjusted his Monocle, saying, "Because it responded to me, Big Brother Aiwen. You have to understand, at that moment I was holding the authority of fate, trying to write the fate of this hell. But when even the authority itself was being suppressed and tormented by this hell, do you think there was any possibility that what I wrote could take effect?"

The moment those words left his mouth, Sir Aiwen's pupils contracted sharply.

In an instant.

Even he felt a shiver run down his spine.

And looking at Lynn's gentle, smiling eyes, he finally realized this crucial point that was so easy to overlook.

Lynn smiled and said, "If I truly had no connection to this hell, then the only outcome would be that I'd die instantly from the backlash of using that authority, with no way out. But it actually did exactly what I wrote. It really did transfer the backlash to me."

"But why? Why should it care about me?"

Sir Aiwen opened his mouth, but not a single word came out.

But what Lynn said was absolutely right...

Indeed.

Why?

So this was a gambit all along. A reckless bet he placed with his own life to test his hypothesis. Because as long as this hell didn't kill him, no matter what choice it made, it would prove that some connection inevitably existed between him and hell. And if such a connection truly existed, then how could hell possibly kill him?

Thinking about this, even he felt a chill of horror at Lynn's cunning.

He truly...

Lynn said softly, "And at the same time, this incident also confirmed something that had been troubling me for a long time. The true identity of those black hands that have been drifting faintly around me all this time, interfering with my affairs."

Everyone was shaken.

Lynn raised his head, gazing with a warm smile at the high sky shrouded in black mist.

"The Pig-Headed Butcher, the weeping and laughing Clown, the Jailers guarding the Root, the wielder of the 'Curse' authority. High-ranking existences that belong to this hell itself, capable of partially adjusting this hell's mechanisms under specific circumstances."

"Oh, let me take one more guess."

He tapped his temple.

Twirling the Monocle between his fingers with a slight smirk.

"Is it the... foot soldier of that chaotic color?"

Buzz—

Almost the moment his words left his mouth, gusts of chilling wind swept through all of Nightfall City. Even the surging black mist in the sky seemed to darken even further in that instant.

Even Sir Aiwen and Colossus's Brain all felt this abnormality.

In that instant.

Almost by reflex, the two of them immediately shielded Lynn tightly between them, front and back. Sir Aiwen clenched the chip tightly, ready to undergo an ascension in rank at any moment.

Atop the High Tower at the center of Nightfall City, a blinding golden light blazed in response. A colossal twelve-winged phantom coldly cast its shadow over them, staring fixedly at the abnormal black mist churning in the sky.

With two deafening booms.

Titan Head and Godweaver Head crashed down around Lynn like falling meteors, their mad and ferocious auras surging wildly.

"Lynn—you're awake? What the hell did you stir up now—something feels wrong around here—"

Titan Head said crazily, brimming with battle lust.

Lynn adjusted his Monocle, stood up from the ground, tilted his head, and smiled:

"Ah! It's nothing. I just accidentally touched on some... what seems to be taboo words."

Titan Head bared his twisted, ferocious teeth like a deformed beast, his gaze instantly piercing through the black mist churning in the high sky. His entire aura erupted violently as a low, thunderous growl rumbled from his throat.

And anyone who knew him understood this was the prelude to him entering his maddened state.

In a certain room somewhere in Nightfall City.

A slender quill slowly floated up, settling upon a blank sheet of Parchment. The multicolored ink seemed to surge with unimaginable authority.

The entire city fell silent.

Every Night Doctor in the city held their breath at once, feeling the suffocating oppression.

But Lynn still stood at the very center of that gathering of Roots, head raised, the dark mist reflected in his smiling eyes. He slowly extended his hand, lightly tipping his Top Hat toward the entire sky, and said:

"My apologies, hell."

...