Chapter 2: I am the fate of all beings.
Chapter 2: I am the fate of all beings.
Chapter 2: I Am the Fate of All Beings.
Yi Fengchu kept his promise by applying a new, smooth, shiny screen protector to his phone, finally ending their hundredth silent standoff.
Pulling the phone from his pocket, Yi Fengchu cradled it in his hands as he walked, keeping a constant eye on Luo Shengle’s situation.
He never hesitated to use his phone in public because, no matter how unusual its behavior, others would see it as perfectly normal—just an ordinary electronic device commonly found on the market.
The screen displayed Luo Shengle cautiously feeling her way through the darkness. Watching her dangerous predicament, Yi Fengchu couldn’t help but frown, his emotions rising and falling with her perilous movements.
“You’re Yi… Yi Fengchu, right?” A young man suddenly stood in front of him while he was walking, his voice laced with hesitation. After looking Yi Fengchu over for a moment, the man said excitedly, “Ah, it really is you! It’s been years since graduation—I never thought I’d run into you today!”
Two lines of text gradually appeared on the phone: *Meng Siyou, Player No. 3247, currently registered with the National Ability Research and Management Bureau.*
[Ability: "Silent Command," currently Level 7, potential Level 9, 27th in line for the Silence Domain.]
No wonder—the government had also turned its attention to the "Gods' Playground"...
Yi Fengchu swiped the screen with interest. It wasn’t unexpected. Given the sheer number and frequency of players forcibly recruited by the gods, it was only a matter of time before authorities caught on.
This was Yi Fengchu’s first time encountering a "Playground" player in reality. He shifted his focus from the phone and gave Meng Siyou a discreet once-over.
With a polite smile, he said, “Long time no see, Meng Siyou.”
Meng Siyou looked slightly surprised. “You remember my name?”
“...” Yi Fengchu drew a blank—he *had* forgotten.
Thankfully, the phone had reminded him.
With the prompt, Yi Fengchu’s memories came flooding back. He recalled that Meng Siyou had been his high school classmate, prepping for art school entrance exams before abruptly dropping out just before the college entrance exams, never contacting any of them again.
So, Meng Siyou’s sudden departure back then was related to the Gods' Playground? Yi Fengchu mused.
“Ah, sorry… It’s just that in my memory, you barely spoke to me.”
Realizing his words might have came off as accusing, Meng Siyou quickly corrected himself, lowering his eyes with an apologetic smile.
His sincerity smoothly defused the awkwardness and subtly bridged the distance between them.
*Truly a product of the "Playground"—everyone’s people-savvy...*
Yi Fengchu silently marveled, even suspecting that Meng Siyou’s earlier "slip" had been deliberate—a way to steer the conversation.
Meng Siyou observed Yi Fengchu’s every microexpression while maintaining a casual demeanor. “You probably don’t know this, but after I left school, I got into folklore. I’ve been traveling around, collecting stories for my own work.”
“By the way… has anything unusual happened around you lately?”
“...What do you mean?” Yi Fengchu pretended to think for a moment, though he knew Meng Siyou was referring to the Gods' Playground.
*Strange… Now that we’re closer, I can’t sense anything unusual. Did I imagine it?*
Meng Siyou studied Yi Fengchu’s natural expression, doubting his own perception.
He had clearly detected an Ability fluctuation—fleeting but profound, carrying an inexplicable mystique. In simpler terms, it had felt like encountering a "cult leader."
Initially, Meng Siyou suspected Yi Fengchu or someone close to him was an unregistered Ability user, hence his deliberate approach.
But now, it seemed more likely that he was just exhausted from back-to-back missions, his senses playing tricks on him.
Rubbing his temples, Meng Siyou filed away Yi Fengchu for future investigation.
“Nothing, just a reporter's reflex—always digging for material.” He brushed it off casually, now convinced Yi Fengchu was just an ordinary person.
Just then, Meng Siyou’s watch buzzed. He glanced at it out of the corner of his eye, subtly blocking Yi Fengchu’s view with his other hand.
A message appeared: [Captain Meng, return to the institute ASAP! Another post about that "Future Diary" has surfaced online—claims to be real...]
[Also, a fanatic just materialized outside the institute. Looks like he just exited the "Playground." He’s at death's door but keeps babbling about his damn cult at the entrance, refusing to leave. Absolute lunatic!]
“If you’re busy, we can catch up another time,” Yi Fengchu said sympathetically—though his phone had already picked up the signal.
“Sure, let’s talk later!” Meng Siyou beamed before hurrying off.
After parting ways, Meng Siyou abruptly turned into a shadowy alley, where a disheveled middle-aged man in a lab coat awaited. The man lifted his head lethargically and waved. “Captain Meng, finally...”
Meng Siyou stared at the man’s dark, raccoon eyes. “...How many days has it been this time?”
“Three? Five? I lost count.” The man shrugged. “We can’t die anyway, right?”
As Abilities advanced, users’ physical capabilities grew exponentially.
At their level—high enough to hold a ranking—their bodies went beyond human limits. They were immune to most illnesses, from colds to sudden death, and could endure extreme environments.
Some could even bounce back from near-death, given time—especially those in the Life Domain.
Still, being hard to kill wasn’t an excuse to push limits. Though their bodies didn’t tire, their minds still needed rest.
“That may be, but you should still rest.” Meng Siyou sighed, knowing it was pointless to argue.
The man tapped Meng Siyou’s shoulder, and the two vanished into the alley’s depths.
---
“Friends! I won’t take much of your time—just allow me to introduce our all-knowing, all-powerful, supreme Lord...”
Upon arriving at the institute, Meng Siyou saw a man strapped to a hospital bed, flailing violently as he preached with fervor. *“He is the Source of All Fear and Malice, the Dread Mother Who Commands Death, the End of All Things—Praise Our Lord!”*
“Judging by the title, this entity’s scepter domain leans toward the sinister… at least from a human perspective,” Meng Siyou remarked to a nearby researcher. “Why not stop him? Aren’t you worried about drawing a High Being’s gaze?”
The researcher sighed. “We tried, but he’d already chanted it multiple times. Thankfully, nothing happened. This one probably ignores followers—to Him, this guy’s prayers are just pesky background noise.”
“That title sounds familiar. I’ve seen it in a high-level instance,” the middle-aged man mused. “According to temple murals, He’s one of three supreme deities, indifferent to prayers and miracles.”
“This fanatic likely stumbled upon knowledge of Him. But comprehending a deity means absorbing an entire domain’s rules and truths—far beyond human mental capacity. No wonder he’s unhinged. He’ll recover with time.”
Just then, a researcher yelped, drawing everyone’s attention.
The man pointed at the monitor in shock. “What did you do before coming? The readings are spiking—either you’re carrying a high-tier artifact, or an unknown entity is watching us!”
Like Abilities, deities’ mere gaze could distort reality. Their domain’s rules would dominate, overriding natural laws and inducing unpredictable changes.
Meng Siyou checked the monitor—and froze.
The numbers had skyrocketed to an impossible level and were still climbing.
Terror flashed across their faces as faint, flickering shadows appeared at the edges of their vision.
"Is this... our future selves?" Meng Siyou was about to speak when he heard an identical voice suddenly ring out, startlingly close, as if the speaker were whispering right into his ear.
The researcher noticed Meng Siyou’s unsettled expression and slowly explained, "You're surrounded by multiple projections... They seem to be different versions of yourself. That line was likely what your future self was originally supposed to say."
"As we all know, supernatural phenomena triggered by divine observation are often related to the scepter wielded by deities..."
He didn’t finish his sentence—after all, that unknown entity was still watching them.
But there was no need to elaborate. Meng Siyou understood just as well: This being was likely related to the domain of "time."
Yi Fengchu, who had been lurking, watched them make serious but completely off-base theories. Suddenly, his phone typed out a line: "They’re all wrong."
Yi Fengchu assumed the phone was referring to their assumption that he was a deity. He nodded in agreement. "Yeah, what kind of nonsense are they imagining? Gods aren’t just wandering around everywhere, easy to stumble upon."
[Hmph.] For some reason, the phone scoffed again. Before Yi Fengchu could question it, it changed the subject. [So, how about playing a little prank to scare them? Newly minted 'deity.'"]
"That wouldn’t be appropriate," Yi Fengchu feigned reluctance, though he was practically itching to do it.
Aside from collecting urban legends, Yi Fengchu’s most irresistible and incurable hobby was pulling pranks—childish and inexplicable as it might sound, it wasn’t without reason.
Yi Fengchu seemed born with dulled emotional responses. He learned to cry, laugh, and interact like any normal person, but his heart remained largely unmoved. He simply did what he thought "others would do."
He couldn’t feel intense fear, so he became obsessed with one bizarre urban legend after another. Similarly, he rarely felt surprise, joy, or anger... which was why he loved watching others genuinely express these emotions in reaction to his pranks.
On the phone screen, Meng Siyou and the other two had gradually calmed down—or perhaps adopted a 'what will be will be' attitude.
If this being was far stronger than them, there was no point panicking. If it wanted to act, it would have already.
In the tense silence, amid the overlapping visions of possible futures, the detector’s screen suddenly went black. When it lit up again, words began flashing across the screen—
"Heard you’ve been investigating me?"
["Future Diary"? Your imagination continues to entertain me.]
Yi Fengchu watched with satisfaction as fear flashed across their faces. He sighed contentedly, a wicked grin spreading across his face.
"...Your Eminence, may we dare ask for your divine name?" The researcher took a deep breath and spoke up, under the stunned gazes of the other two.
Meng Siyou shot the white-coated man a frantic look: *Is he out of his damn mind? Actively establishing contact with an unknown entity?*
The white-coated man shrugged, his already weary face looking even more haggard. He shook his head: *No idea. These days, they'll give security clearances to anyone...*
The words on the detector paused briefly before vanishing, as if wiped away by an invisible hand. In their place, silver text appeared:
"I am the witness and Narrator who exists beyond the cycle of life and death, the Samsara Ouroboros encircling the boundaries of reality."
"I am the fate of all living things."
Before the researcher could probe further, the words disappeared, and the detector returned to normal.
The spectral figures dissolved into pale fragments, vanishing from the lab as if devout followers retreating with their deity’s withdrawn gaze.
"Have you lost your mind?!"
The white-coated man exhaled in relief before glaring incredulously at the researcher, who was still processing what happened.
After learning of the gods’ existence, the government had established three rules for encountering them: Do not gaze upon them. Do not listen to them. Do not interact with them.
Research had shown that not only could a deity’s gaze be lethal, but some powerful beings could bring unpredictable dangers—mental corruption, physical mutations—just by being *known*.
Compared to gods, humans were fragile, even those who had walked the path of Ability for some time.
Without a doubt, the researcher’s decision to speak to a deity was madness, a flagrant breach of all three rules.
Had that being entertained even a passing thought of malice, he might have been erased on the spot...
"I’m not insane. This is the pursuit of knowledge," the researcher adjusted his slipping glasses. "You’re familiar with the bootstrap paradox, right?"
Without waiting for their nods, he continued, "Ever since learning of the gods, I’ve been wondering—what does temporal authority truly mean? If one controls time, can they freely alter the past or communicate with the future?"
"You’re suggesting... No, that’s too extreme."
The middle-aged man, also a fellow science junkie, perked up even as he objected. His thoughts were clearly racing down the same path.
*...Wait, am I the only sane one here?*
Meng Siyou’s eyes darted between them. He couldn’t help but twitch his lips.
"Time! A concept intangible to humans, let alone something we could resist—yet to them, it might be as simple as a progress bar!"
The researcher waved his hands animatedly. "With a flick of their fingers, they could return to the past or leap into the future! But not all gods can rewrite established facts—"
"...Only those who represent boundless potentiality can," the middle-aged man murmured. "Earlier, Meng Siyou never actually spoke those words, yet the projections said them anyway. That creates a paradox."
"If he never said it, how could that future exist?"
"Remarkable, don't you think? This is the might of a True God! That’s no crude manipulation of time as we speculated—it’s..."
The researcher’s grin stretched alarmingly wide, as if lost in rapturous theorizing. "It’s the infinite dance of causality. They perceive the 'effect' from the 'cause,' then reshape the 'cause' through the 'effect.'"
"Time can only reach one predetermined future, but they command infinite possibilities! Every thought, every habit is laid bare before them like words on a page."
"...Calm down. Don't turn into some fanatic now. I don’t want to one day get a mission to arrest you," Meng Siyou said, massaging his forehead. "Anyway, what exactly happened on the forums that made you call me back in such a hurry?"
"Oh, that?" The middle-aged man shoved his hands into his pockets, answering dismissively. "After what we just went through, it’s nothing."
"An Ability user anonymously posted a thread titled *‘Exposing the Big Names Saved by the Future Diary.’*"
"Everyone loves a good conspiracy theory, so the thread went viral. You can check it out yourself." The researcher, having regained his composure, interjected, "Personally, I find little substance in that questionable thread, but the brass is treating it as priority. They've called a briefing about it at seven tonight."