Chapter 188: Maintain Ignorance and Stupidity

Chapter 188: Preserving Ignorance

"Recently, an unexpected 'Beach Fever' at the tail end of winter has ignited a frenzy on social media, drawing widespread attention..."

As the host introduced the segment, the television screen displayed scenes of a beach.

Seagulls circled low, their white wings casting fleeting shadows over the crowds of tourists, whose numbers were unprecedented.

The camera panned downward, revealing a dense mass of people gathered along the coastline, flowing like a human tide brimming with longing for the ocean.

Yi Fengchu sat before the television, staring at the scene for a long time. Yet, fragmented, similar images flashed through his mind.

Long ago, he had... faced a similar situation.

*What was it?*

Yi Fengchu fixed his gaze on the screen. The television still showed rolling white waves and a gentle sea breeze, but the shapes of the waves gradually distorted in his vision, twisting into a gaping vortex—and he allowed himself to be pulled into the whirlpool of distant memories.

Slowly, the sea breeze seemed to penetrate the screen, carrying the damp salt-air into his nostrils, overlapping with a moment from the past...

Back then, there had also been crowds, sea breezes, and the ocean.

But to be precise—it had been a "sea of corpses."

Only pale, bloated bodies were tossed and turned by the waves, while carrion birds circled above, pecking at the remains.

Not even the most mournful wails could pierce the thick, overcast sky, leaving both the heavens and the sea locked in the same leaden-gray, as if simmering with anger.

It was the winter of 2026—the "apocalypse" Yi Fengchu had once lived through.

A timeline that had been negated, abandoned, and reset by the rebirth of fate.

In that original timeline, with the arrival of the Gods' Playground, mysterious and dangerous forces quickly invaded the world. Various divine beings, incomprehensible to humans, followed closely, step by step encroaching upon human living space.

From then on—

The sky was no longer friendly, as countless tiny eyes emerged from the clouds, blocking humanity’s view of the stars;

The earth was no longer gentle, giving birth to countless never-before-seen mutated vegetation that opened bloody maws like streaks of crimson laughter;

The sea was no longer calm, its waves forever furious, the white foam like the glint of a scythe, reaping lives in batches...

Even the air was deadly toxic.

The atmosphere was thick with a complex mix of scents—briny, putrid, scorched—and countless other indescribable odors, carrying unknown pollutants that spread everywhere.

Ignoring the mosquitoes and insects that, under the influence of "life," reproduced abnormally fast and grew unnaturally large, many people were contaminated simply by breathing, transforming into monsters they no longer recognized.

Yi Fengchu had once witnessed a neighbor whose skin cracked and peeled, growing soft fish scales over the wounds, before stumbling mindlessly into the ocean, never to return.

After the complete collapse of order, it became a world ruled by gods and divine beings.

Human voices soon grew faint.

Back then, he... he had only been Rank 5, capable of foreseeing much of the future but powerless to prevent so much death and destruction.

As he continued to reminisce, Yi Fengchu recalled more fragmented details.

For example, the first day of the "apocalypse" had coincided with his graduation ceremony—the suited host on the podium suddenly burst apart, raining down on the audience warm fragments of red, yellow, and white flesh, as if macabre fireworks heralding the beginning of the end.

The crowd scattered in screams, leaving only a young and inexperienced Yi Fengchu sitting bewildered in the audience, dimly hearing the world crumble and collapse around him.

The subsequent apocalypse and instances flashed through his mind as if on fast-forward, whether because he had truly forgotten or because his subconscious refused to revisit them.

Those memories were incredibly fragmented.

There were the hands of loyal companions, the sudden lunge of mutated creatures, the desperate cries of "Survive!", and vast pools of crimson blood—some belonging to others, some his own.

In the beginning, at his weakest and most helpless, Yi Fengchu might have entertained a fleeting fantasy—

If only... if only there were a god who was benevolent toward mortals.

But the fantasy vanished as quickly as it came, leaving only cruel reality.

Like a drop of water merging into a river, the Yi Fengchu of the past adapted quickly, growing accustomed to the fleeing and fighting of the mysterious world, his mind occupied by a single thought:

"Survive."

"Survive, survive, survive..."

Carrying the world that had shaped him, he traversed barren wastelands and the shadows of the apocalypse, determined to keep living.

"..."

Breaking free from his memories, Yi Fengchu opened his eyes again. The second layer of serpent molt within his chest had silently dissolved.

His pupils briefly took on the snake-like vertical slits, the gilded hue cold and dazzling.

"Mother of the Tides," Yi Fengchu murmured to himself, "as expected, I still can't summon any fondness toward you."

Of course, it was difficult for him to feel genuine goodwill toward any of the gods...

Heh. It would be best if they all perished, along with the divine followers they had birthed and created.

For now, Yi Fengchu had little desire to look at the ocean. He turned off the television and instead gazed out the window in a certain direction.

Through the senses of his avatar, he could easily discern that the players exploring the reality instance on the other side had encountered yet another insurmountable obstacle.

His expression softened as he sighed with indulgence.

Well, even if the him of the past had never encountered the kind, sheltering god that seemed to exist only in fantasies...

He now had no qualms about playing such a role himself.

......

Hospital's Special Ward.

The owner of Room 602 had regained consciousness. His physical wounds had healed, his loose skin and flesh reattached, but the psychological trauma could not be mended so quickly.

No matter what he was asked, he would only widen his glazed eyes and repeat, dazed, "Gurgle, gurgle... it's ringing..."

"Gurgle, gurgle, gurgle..."

An adult man rolling his throat to produce such monotonous sounds held no childish charm or cuteness—instead, it was a poor imitation of a frog inflating its vocal sac, the eerie echoes lingering in the room.

Paired with his vacant, slightly bulging eyes, he truly resembled an oversized frog curled deep beneath the blankets.

Seeing that no leads could be gotten from the victim, Meng Siyou pressed his fingers to his temples in frustration and turned to ask, "Did the surgeon mention what exactly was inside his swollen abdomen after the mutation?"

"Due to the involvement of unknown mystical forces, we performed a full abdominal incision at the time," said Shen Yuan, a Rank 5 [Secretsight] Ability user of the Anomalous Affairs Bureau, pushing up her black-framed glasses. "But the moment his belly was opened, what gushed out... was only water."

She paused, frowning as if recalling a horrifying scene:

"Right, not even blood—just a lot, a lot of clear water... Once the water drained, his stomach completely collapsed, hollowed out inside. Even the organs that should have been there were gone, as if liquefied."

"The internal organs and skin he's using now are almost entirely fashioned from [Life] energy."

"Lucky to have cheated death," Meng Siyou remarked, then asked, "What about your eyes? Did you see anything on him?"

Shen Yuan's Ability, "Mind's Eye," was always adept at uncovering hidden information from the depths of those involved in anomalous events.

But this time, she shook her head in frustration. "I even witnessed the victim's entire surgery, but... I saw nothing."

Meng Siyou fell into thought.

Though Room 602's occupant's mental state was severely compromised, Meng Siyou didn’t believe the syllables he kept repeating were entirely nonsensical.

He was more inclined to think that the victim, in his altered state, had formed an aberrant connection with the mystical power contained within the Universal Capsule and had retained some information.

Even if the victim was now delirious, even if he himself couldn’t comprehend this information that transcended comprehension... he was still subconsciously reiterating it, transmitting it.

After a moment of silence, Shen Yuan suddenly spoke: "Let me try taking one of the capsules."

"What?" Meng Siyou looked startled.

"Time is running out, isn’t it?" Shen Yuan said calmly. "If I take a capsule and then use my Ability on myself, I can gather more useful clues."

"Being in the field of Mind's Eye yet seeing nothing—like a blind person—is humiliating enough. I refuse to tolerate this."

"No matter what’s inside the capsule or which 'It' it originates from, I’ll prove to It—I can uncover these secrets."

Meng Siyou hesitated, then finally compromised under her resolute gaze:

"...First, we’ll request approval from headquarters."

Given the crisis, the request report was approved just ten minutes after submission.

As expected, the response was: "Authorization granted."

In the face of this anomalous event affecting the entire world, every risk was warranted, and every sacrifice worthwhile.

—Until the moment of true, irreversible cataclysm.

After approval, Shen Yuan was led to an empty room. She gestured "ready" to the surveillance camera in the corner.

Holding a Universal Capsule, she stared at it for a long moment, confirming once more that she couldn’t peer inside, then swallowed it.

Focusing on her own condition, she felt the small capsule slide down her esophagus, leaving a faint, cold foreign sensation, then the gelatin shell dissolve slowly in her stomach.

"Glug."

Gradually, Shen Yuan heard a strange sound—like effervescent bubbling in water, or frogs/toads croaking in a pond—growing louder in her ears.

...What was that noise?

She clawed frantically at her arm. With each scratch, flakes of skin fell like dandruff, but no blood welled up—only reddish, raw, tender flesh beneath.

Too preoccupied to notice the scratches, she tried using her Ability to locate the source of the unknown sound.

At first, she tried to concentrate.

But the faint noises seemed to come from everywhere. The harder she tried to pinpoint them, the more her focus scattered—as if her soul had dispersed like mist, filling the entire room.

Unable to gather, unable to focus.

"Glug, glug, glug..."

Shen Yuan’s pupils quivered as her sanity seemed to dissolve and evaporate along with the bubbling sounds.

The noise grew faster, denser, as if frogs/toads lurked beneath the table, behind the cabinet, inside the walls... hiding in dank shadows, inflating their vocal sacs, emitting increasingly frantic guttural croaks.

...What *was* that sound?

Where?

Where were they??

As her sanity and patience evaporated, Shen Yuan’s mouth began to emit incoherent, restless muttering.

She suddenly stood, sending everything off the table with a crash, then flipped the table over and kicked the cabinet in the corner, frantically searching for the source.

She looked under the table—was it here?

No.

She looked behind the cabinet—was it here?

No.

In a daze, she stood before the wall, elbowing it violently, feeling through the crumbling plaster dust—was it here?

Still no.

...Why? Why was it nowhere? Why couldn’t she find it?

But she *heard* it! It *existed*!

The sound grew clearer, closer, louder, vibrating in her ears, in her mind—glug, glug...

Through the camera, Meng Siyou only saw Shen Yuan standing still for a long time before suddenly shuddering, as if she’d discovered something.

She curled up, pressing her ear desperately to her knee, shrieking with manic glee: "It’s here! It’s here!"

Then pressed her ear to her arm: "It’s here..."

After her limbs and shoulders, Shen Yuan even contorted grotesquely, craning her neck forward, pressing her ear to her stomach, giggling madly: "Ah, it’s here too..."

Nuzzling her head against herself, she slowly turned, her Mind's Eye gaze shifting inward.

At that moment, she felt cleaved in twain.

Half of her soul, her pupils constricting in excitement, eager to see the creatures inside her making the "glugging" sounds.

The other half screamed hysterically—*Don’t look! Don’t look! You mustn’t look!!!*

If she stared directly at the spawning entities breeding inside her... she’d go irreparably insane.

Then she wouldn’t be able to relay the information she’d already uncovered to the outside world in time... She already knew the answer—what was inside the capsule was essentially... fish spawn.

The densely packed fish eggs rapidly proliferated, swarming and ripening through human bodily fluids.

Two utterly opposing impulses tugged at her, until the hysterical warnings gradually weakened.

Shen Yuan felt warm tears welling up from her eyes. No matter how hard she resisted, her head turned stiffly, inch by inch, uncontrollably turning toward the source of mutation and madness.

She should have been in despair.

But what little reason remained couldn't even sustain her to process emotions like "despair." Her mind was blank, like the eerie calm before a storm.

Just then, the sudden vibration of a lyre string cut sharply through the incessant "gurgling" sounds.

Instantly, those bizarre, monotonous syllables faded from her awareness, leaving only the gentle melody of the lyre behind.

The music flowed clear and crystalline, like water, trickling through her parched consciousness, pulling Shen Yuan's rationality back from the brink.

Her vision plunged into safe darkness—her clairvoyant eyes had been covered.

Shen Yuan relaxed slightly, noticing that beyond the lyre's song, the Anomalous Affairs Bureau's alarms blared.

The shrill sirens echoed, warning all Ability users: an unfamiliar, mysterious entity had invaded the institution's headquarters.

And that mysterious presence now stood right behind her.

Amidst the overlapping cacophony of alarms and anomalous sounds, only the Apostle's gentle voice remained clear—an anchor in raging waves.

"Don't look."

Bryce gazed down at her like an angelic statue with wings unfurled beneath a cathedral's resplendent rose window, listening to devotees' prayers.

He admonished softly: "Before things beyond comprehension—maintain your ignorance for now."