Chapter 183 The Nameless Corpse (8)

A greatsword stood in the center of the shattered floor, amidst a scene of utter devastation.

Zhao chuckled softly, pulled out a chair and sat down again: "Weren't you supposed to be fearless? Why did you come back dressed like this? I thought... you would be more direct and openly come over with a sword to chop me up."

"Is there a difference?" Shu Changyan's well-defined knuckles rested on the hilt of his sword. He pulled off the bandage on his face, revealing his eyes: "As you wish."

Everyone else in the council chamber was so frightened that they all ran away, leaving only the two of them and the increasingly loud protests outside the window.

On the projector in the center of the council chamber, interviews with citizens were played repeatedly. They questioned the hero they had once fervently idolized: "Your power is virtual, given to you by us, but our bodies and our lives are real. By what right do you trample on our lives for your own power?"

Zhao casually placed his hands on the table, the various gems on his ten fingers sparkling in the light streaming in from the window. He laughed and said, "Where's my sister? It's no use trying to hold me back. Pine is already completely rotten in this state; there's no point in doing anything now."

“Look,” he said, raising a finger adorned with a large emerald ring and pointing to the line below. “They look like they’re going to put me on the gallows to atone to some nonexistent god.”

"The gallows probably won't work."

Shu Changyan ruthlessly interrupted his fantasy: "But you will definitely be sent to the Central Court for trial on charges of war crimes by other members of parliament, and Kovina will not protect you."

All she loved was power and her own status. She could betray Lucico, and naturally, she could kick him aside without a second thought. Preserving the military was far more important than preserving him.

Zhao leaned back lazily in her chair, as if all the bones in her body had been removed: "Why don't we send you up too?"

Shu Changyan treated him with the same patience he would show to people with intellectual disabilities: "I'm already wanted by Pinheis."

"Yes," Zhao was taken aback at first, then seemed to have been tickled by a joke and chuckled softly, unable to stop.

He wants nothing, therefore nothing can hold him back.

He only wanted his sister, and now he has gotten what he wanted.

And he, he only wants fame and power, so why can't he have what he wants?

“Sigh—” Zhao looked completely resigned. He stretched out his hand to the ceiling, covered his eyes with his palm, and murmured in an almost lamenting, dramatically exaggerated tone: “My love is so noble, and I am so lowly.”

"However, I do not intend to become a war criminal; it would be too shameful."

Zhao raised the scepter, twisted his wrist, drew the dagger from the head of the scepter, and stabbed it fiercely into his own neck.

He wants to commit suicide.

"clang--!"

A crisp sound rang out in the council chamber.

A sharp pain shot through Zhao's wrist, causing it to go numb and his fingers to involuntarily loosen.

The jeweled dagger slipped from his hand, crashing onto the table with a clatter. It slid a considerable distance before coming to a stop, its blade still gleaming coldly.

Zhao pressed her wrist, which had instantly swelled up, and looked up in astonishment at Shu Changyan, who was still standing in the same spot.

“We had an agreement,” Zhao said. “I won’t issue a warrant for Shu Ningmiao’s arrest. You will be the executioner until I fail.”

"Yes." Shu Changyan's answer was only one word.

He fumbled for the dagger again, gesturing towards his own neck, while Shu Changyan merely watched him coldly.

The cold blade pressed against the skin on the side of his neck, and the sharp edge immediately left a shallow white mark.

Zhao's hand, gripping the dagger, began to tremble uncontrollably, his wrist tightening slightly—

A thin, almost invisible line of blood immediately seeped from the skin on the side of his neck, and the scarlet blood slowly seeped out and slid down his skin.

pain.

The pain was subtle, yet it felt like a bolt of lightning had struck him instantly, and the grip on his dagger loosened little by little.

“How can a person’s neck be so stiff?” Zhao’s hands trembled even more violently: “I can’t poke it in.”

He discovered that he was not as brave and fearless as he had imagined.

"Shu Changyan, we're friends, right?"

Zhao's voice echoed in the council hall. He bowed his head, his silver hair hanging down, soaked with sweat and clinging to his face in a disheveled state: "I don't want to be judged, nor do I want their opinions. I'll take all these sins to hell. I want to die with a bright future, gloriously as Zhao Arad. I... I can't bring myself to cut him. Come on, kill me—Shu Changyan, do it!"

——

At the same time, Weston pushed Arcia's wheelchair to the window and jammed the axle.

Outside the window, the distant lights and noise from the direction of the Union Buildings could be faintly heard, making the room seem even quieter.

He raised his hand and took off his monocle, gently placing it on the table beside him.

He was still considering whether to take Arsia away from here, away from the escalating chaos on the ground. Even if Pigne was unwilling to approve his resignation, he would not go there again; nothing was more important than survival.

But Arcia spoke softly, breaking his thoughts: "I want to stay in Pigne."

Weston remained silent and did not respond.

Arcia leaned quietly in her wheelchair, her hands resting on the soft blanket on her knees, her golden hair flowing smoothly down her shoulders.

"Will Miaomiao come back?" Arcia asked softly.

“She didn’t say.” Weston closed his eyes, as if resigning himself: “But she will definitely come back.”

He knew Shu Ningmiao too well; no matter what lay ahead, hell or abyss, she would not back down.

Upon hearing this, Arcia tilted her head slightly and smiled, "Mm."

Weston sighed and then stopped.

His fingers, which were resting on the back of his wheelchair, suddenly tightened, his knuckles turning white instantly from the force, as a palpable sense of crisis suddenly assaulted his nerves.

His Pandora instinctively formed a defense, and all the furniture, chairs, books, and even small decorations in the room floated up against gravity in an instant. Then, because of the light that shone on the ground, they crashed back down with a clatter, rolling around and creating a mess.

From the depths of the shadows, a tall, slender figure slowly emerged, silent and still, as if it were the shadow itself.

They had no idea when or how he got in.

Microscopic organisms can generate thousands of units.

The man was still wearing that spotless robe, his black hair hanging down, his dark pupils like black holes, precisely locking onto Arsia in the wheelchair. His gaze was as if he were examining an object, devoid of any warmth.

Weston took a half step forward without making a sound, shielding Arcia behind him with his body, while his other hand was already quietly resting on the gun behind his trench coat.

What's Wei Sheng Qian Heng doing here?!

What does he want from them?

Weston's gaze gradually froze amidst a variety of wary thoughts. His body remained in the position of drawing his gun, as if someone had pressed the pause button, rendering him unable to move.

Even my thoughts froze at that moment.

His body remained in that poised, ready-to-go pose, as if frozen in place, his eyes unable to move.

Not only his body, but time around him seemed to have been forcibly paused by an invisible force.

In the entire space, only Wei Shengqianheng and the blonde girl in the wheelchair were able to move.

Wei Shengqianheng's gaze swept over Weston as if it were something insignificant, and his voice was pleasant: "Good evening, Miss Omniscient."

He walked slowly forward, his footsteps so light that they made no sound, like a ghost gliding across the ground.

Then, he reached out and placed his hand firmly on her slender shoulder, leaning slightly forward.

"Tell me, what did you hear, Omniscient One?"

Arcia's hands, which were resting on the blanket, unconsciously curled up, but she did not avoid his gaze. Although her face was pale, her eyes were unusually clear.

She spoke with a hint of pity, her voice ethereal and otherworldly: "I heard the sound of strings, the echo of the planet... It told me your purpose, your thoughts."

“Everything you’ve done has been meaningless.” Arcia took a deep breath, as if bearing immense pain, and said, word by word, “She will definitely stop you.”

After saying that, she closed her eyes, unwilling to talk to him.

The smile gradually faded from Wei Shengqianheng's face, making him look more like an inorganic mask.

“Shu Ningmiao and I are the same. I am her, and she is me.”

Wei Shengqianheng lowered his dark eyes to look at her, as if proclaiming a prophecy that would surely come true: "Even if she isn't now, she will definitely become me in the future. We are in the midst of the String Flow, and we can never truly die... Living is a heavy chain, and being alive is absolute pain."

"No, she is a completely different person from you!"

Arsia opened her eyes and refuted loudly with all her might, her thin body trembling with excitement.

"Then I'll kill you first, how about that?"

Wei Shengqianheng smiled, his voice so soft it was almost a whisper, and suddenly grabbed her neck, tightening his grip and lifting her off the wheelchair.

"Your presence is really an eyesore. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have to start all over again."

Before he could start over, he was just a hair's breadth away from achieving that goal.

Arsia's feet were dangling in the air, her throat was being tightly choked, and her face quickly turned from white to red due to lack of oxygen. Her slender hands tried in vain to pry open the unmoving fingers.

Wei Shengqianheng watched her struggle quietly: "I really want to see her expression when she sees your corpse—when she knows everything is beyond redemption, when her efforts yield no good results, can she still maintain her rationality as a 'human being'?"

His long hair moved slightly without wind, and his eyes held a lifeless desolation: "My friend wanted to save everything, and then what happened? He became a corrupted entity that lost its mind. Naive omniscient one, people can never be saved, that's right... As long as there is one person left on this planet, tragedy will continue to repeat itself."

His fingers continued to tighten, and Arcia's breathing became increasingly faint.

"I want all of this, to have an end that will absolutely not be painful."

The vast "string flow" seemed to flow quietly through the room, making everything around it appear both real and illusory, with distorted light and shadow.

All his movements, Arcia's painful struggle, Weston's bloodshot eyes, even the dust swirling in the air... all froze at that moment.

The vast flow of strings seemed to be silently washed away, reactivating everything that had been frozen.

A figure rushed in like a gust of wind, without the slightest hesitation, and crashed straight into Wei Sheng Qian Heng.

Time, which had been paused, began to flow again the moment she entered.

Shu Ningmiao's eyes were sharp as knives. With one hand, she forcefully shoved away Wei Shengqianheng's arm that was gripping Arsia, and with the other hand, she caught Arsia's falling body.

Wei Shengqianheng slid back a few steps as lightly as a ghost, stopped in place, and turned his gaze to Weston, who had just managed to break free and move.

Unexpectedly, this person was able to react in the few seconds before time stopped, and tamper with things to send a signal to Shu Ningmiao.

But it doesn't matter anymore.