Chosen: Beyond Fate

The dim corridor lights flickered, illuminating streaks of blood.

A mouse-like creature poked its head out from Xie Lan’s collar with a chuckle. “How peculiar. You actually didn’t make a move on them? One Tong family member is enough to scare you this badly?”

Xie Lan walked ahead with his hands clasped behind his back. “The material I've gathered is already more than enough. There's no point in pushing my luck and ending up worse off. Besides, when your opponent is already on guard, both poison and curses lose a lot of their effectiveness. So why bother? Let him go deal with those people from the Heretic Cult. I still need to make a living in Cliff City. No need to make enemies of the Security Bureau and the Tong family.”

He paused, an odd smile creeping across his face as he glanced over his shoulder. “Still, he must be regretting it.”

***

“It's not the thief who steals the one you should fear. It's the thief who keeps you in their sights.”

After the elevator opened, Ji Jue finally let out a sigh, fully on guard. How could he not know Xie Lan?

Even if he did not know Xie Lan, he knew himself. The man had acted completely indifferent the whole time, but deep down, he was definitely coveting what Ji Jue had. Besides, treasures of heaven and earth belonged to those with virtue[1], right?

There were so many living Chosen Ones here. If he used Dissociation Technique on every last one of them, just imagine how much experience his matrix would gain, not to mention all the materials he could harvest. What a huge haul that would be.

What a pity. Such treasures had fallen into the wrong hands[2].

I’ll anonymously report him to the Security Bureau later.

Just as Ji Jue’s final invitation had been a deliberate probe, Xie Lan had also spent the entire conversation fishing for information from Ji Jue’s group. Looking back now, Xie Lan had arrived much earlier than they had, so he had most likely known the situation inside the hospital building for quite some time.

That seemingly well-meaning final reminder was also a way to test whether Ji Jue already knew. The sly bastard had been trying to egg Ji Jue and the others into walking straight into a trap.

As for the reason... being busy with his research was probably just an excuse, or at best only part of it. At the end of the day, it was most likely because of the Undying Disease left behind by the Nine Abominations.

A Vortex-type Chosen One like him would have to be insane to willingly walk into the hospital building.

It was like how a Swarm Chosen One would suddenly become the picture of calm and self-restraint whenever they ran into Rampant Slaughter, with eyes so pure they could put a college freshman to shame; or how an Ember-type would make a detour hundreds of li in advance the moment they caught wind of the Putrefied Furnace. No one would just walk into danger like that.

“It seems we can’t count on him to be of much help.” Ji Jue gave up on his original idea. Still, if things really went south for everyone, why not drag him down with them while they were at it?

As these dark thoughts slowly spun in his mind, Tong Hua said, “If those attackers really were from the Heretic Cult, then things are going to be bad. If the Time Ruin collapses in Cliff City, the consequences will be impossible to predict.”

“Don't worry. We’ve still got a live one.”

Ji Jue lowered his head and looked toward the bottom shelf of the trolley, where the Chosen One lay curled into a ball, trembling uncontrollably as foam dribbled from his mouth. He was still breathing; the guy was tough as nails, but he was also terribly unfortunate.

Ji Jue flicked his finger and let out a sympathetic sigh.

“What rotten luck you have.”

***

It felt like he had gone through a very long dream. Whether it was a nightmare or a good dream, it was impossible to tell.

An unprecedented surge of exhilaration and an equally overwhelming wave of exhaustion alternated relentlessly inside his mind. Agonizing bouts of numbness gave way to moments of bliss and euphoria that felt as though his soul itself were ascending, only for the cycle to repeat again and again until it all collapsed into a despair unlike anything he had ever experienced.

His will and reason dissolved beneath the flood of hormones coursing through his body. He was reduced to nothing more than a lump of mud.

When Kong Yebai finally managed to open his eyes again, the first thing he saw was an unfamiliar ceiling streaked with blood. Crimson spirit matter circuits crisscrossed overhead, weaving together into a dense web that covered every inch of the floor, walls, and ceiling. The air reeked of fresh blood, while shrill screams of terror and agonized wails echoed from somewhere beyond the walls. It felt like he had arrived in hell.

As his shattered consciousness slowly pieced itself back together, a smiling, blood-soaked face came into view.

Ji Jue was still hard at work behind a makeshift operating table assembled from office desks. He raised a hand and wiped the blood and sweat from his forehead. “Hm? You’re awake? Sorry, I'm still a little busy over here. It'll be your turn in a bit, so could you wait just a moment?”

Kong Yebai's pupils quivered as he forced his eyes wider, staring at the tabletop. There, a corpse had been hacked apart beyond recognition. Beside it was a severed head. That familiar face belonged to none other than Wang Ximin, who had been by his side just a short while ago.

His other dead teammate had been drained of blood and stored away, stripped of all spirit matter until only ash remained. Even his shattered matrix had been completely dismantled. He was reduced to dust before his eyes.

The mastermind behind it all wore a smile from beginning to end. When Ji Jue looked up, he even spoke in a gentle, almost considerate tone. “You really shouldn’t eat so much sticky rice. It's hard to digest, and it makes cleaning up afterward a pain.”

“H-help... somebody...!”

Kong Yebai trembled, struggling with all his might, but the shackles binding him refused to budge. He hung suspended against the wall, his mind still clouded. He couldn’t summon his spirit matter, and whatever had been done to his matrix had rendered it completely unresponsive.

All he could do was scream and cry out on instinct, but in no time, he could no longer make a sound.

“Shh.” Ji Jue raised a finger. “It’s work hours. Keep quiet.”

Flowing mercury slithered up his legs like a living creature. Cold and viscous, it crept into his mouth and nostrils, sealing them shut and silencing every cry. It deliberately left his eyes open, forcing him to watch as his teammates were stripped of every ounce of value they’d once possessed. Their blood was drained, their spirit matter extracted, and not even their flesh and bones were spared; instead, they were tossed into a basin to feed the ghost fetus.

At last, amid the grating scrape of chair legs against the floor, an office chair was pulled up in front of him. Ji Jue sat down, studied him for a long moment, then clasped his hands together. Chin in his hand, he said, “This is my first time interrogating someone, so I'm not exactly experienced. Let’s start with something simple, okay? How many of you are there in total?”

The mercury writhed, opening a narrow gap that finally allowed Kong Yebai to breathe. He immediately broke into a fit of violent coughing, tears and mucus streaming down his face.

“I... I don’t know... please, sir, please let me go, I...”

Ji Jue sighed and shook his head in disappointment. “You’re lying. This is your first time lying, so you're probably not used to it yet. You should’ve practiced a bit first. But that’s fine, we can get to know each other better. Let’s start with your pancreas.”

He picked up a scalpel from the nearby trolley and, with smooth, practiced motions, made a small incision in Kong Yebai’s abdomen. Despite the struggling and screaming, the cold touch of metal slipped inside. Soon, a bloody, glistening organ was lifted into view with a clamp.

“You see, this is your pancreas. Pancreatic cancer is a deadly and extremely painful disease. The mortality rate is one hundred percent, and what’s worse is that people suffer terribly before they die. But you don’t have to worry about that anymore!” Ji Jue said brightly, his expression almost cheerful. “See? Am I not helping you?”

“Ugh!!! Ugh!!!”

As the organ came closer, Kong Yebai felt no sense of connection or familiarity at all. Instead, his eyes widened in sheer terror as he tried to recoil, but it was useless. The organ was forced into his mouth and slid down his throat.

“What you lose, you replenish. So eat up and recover,” Ji Jue comforted him. “Don’t worry. In this Time Ruin, losing flesh and organs won’t kill you. We’ve got plenty of time to play together. Just calm down a little first.”

1. The line "天材地宝，有德者居之" is an adaptation of the classical saying "天命无常，有德者居之." The original proverb expresses the political and philosophical idea that the Mandate of Heaven is not permanent, but instead belongs to those who possess virtue. It was traditionally used to justify the rise and fall of dynasties, arguing that Heaven grants legitimacy to rulers based on their moral character rather than by birthright. The author preserves the second half of the saying, "有德者居之" ("it belongs to those of virtue"), but replaces "天命" ("the Mandate of Heaven") with "天材地宝" ("heavenly treasures"). ☜

2. 明珠暗投 is a Chinese idiom that literally means "to cast a bright pearl into the darkness." It is used to describe a person of great talent who fails to receive the recognition or appreciation they deserve, or a valuable object that ends up in the hands of someone who cannot recognize its worth. By extension, it can also refer to a good or capable person who has gone astray or fallen into the wrong company. ☜