Chapter 55: Picking up flowers in the morning and evening 25
"The Taizo is everywhere——"
These four words carried with them a chilling sound like the scraping of metal. As soon as they were spoken, the earth let out a dying wail.
The scorched earth beneath Geto Suguru's feet cracked like a spider web, and ten times the gravity fell like a swarm of meteorites.
Geto Suguru tried to support his shaky body, trying to gather his last bit of strength, gritting his teeth and preparing to perform the technique again.
At this moment, his right knee made a crisp sound, like glass shattered by a huge hammer, and he fell heavily to his knees on the cracked ground.
"Ah!" Geto Suguru groaned, his body shaking violently as he knelt on one knee.
However, what is more terrifying than physical torture is the mental pressure that comes like a tide.
Countless twisted faces flashed before his eyes—the villagers he had killed with his own hands, their hollow eyes filled with despair; the fanatical whispers of the Panxing believers echoed in his ears like the tongue of a poisonous snake; and the souls who had fallen under his spell, they stretched out their pale hands, as if to drag him into the abyss of no return.
"There's no point in struggling, Geto."
Juansuo's voice was like frost that penetrated into the bone marrow, pervasive, "Isn't it also your wish to allow those who are not magicians to evolve and create a paradise for magicians?
"Suguru Geto, give up your body and serve as my vessel, allowing me to complete this transformation. For our common ideal."
As soon as the words fell, the air seemed to be stirred by an invisible force, and the surrounding cursed energy surged into a thick vortex.
The silk rope technique covered up like a spider web, and each thread was wrapped with malice that corroded the soul.
Geto Suguru struggled to mobilize his remaining cursed energy to resist, but it was futile in the face of overwhelming force.
Those words about ideals grew wildly in his mind like thorny vines.
The beliefs he once held firmly began to twist and deform under the knowledge that they were all manipulated by silk ropes, and the constant collision with the cruelty of reality intensified the double torture of his body and mind.
Under this suffocating pressure, Geto Suguru's consciousness gradually became blurred.
The collapse of his self and the severe pain of his body followed him closely, dragging him into an endless abyss of darkness.
And the silk rope, like a judge standing in the clouds, quietly watched the collapse of faith, waiting for the moment when the container completely collapsed.
Geto Suguru's consciousness floated in the chaos of the prison gate as thick as asphalt, and the longitude and latitude of time and space were torn into pieces.
Countless memories, like sharp shards of glass, rampaged through his mind, dragging him into the endless vortex of reincarnation.
The light is like the first blooming cherry blossoms, and the bright and clean high school classroom is like a beauty sealed in amber.
The sunlight shines through the mottled shadows of the trees, casting tiny spots of light on the classroom floor. Cherry blossoms are flying outside the window, and the pink and white petals are falling quietly like light snow.
Geto Suguru, Gojo Satoru, and Ieiri Shoko sat side by side on their desks, while the young Masamichi Yaga stood in front of the blackboard, chalk rustling on the surface as he earnestly explained the responsibilities of a sorcerer.
"Jie, you said, we can definitely become super powerful sorcerers in the future, right?"
Gojo Satoru held a lollipop in his mouth and leaned on Geto Suguru like a boneless person, his tone full of the frivolity and confidence unique to young people.
Xia Yujie had a gentle smile on his face and a firm look in his eyes. "Of course, we are the strongest."
Ieiri Naoko lazily flipped through a medical journal and quipped without looking up, "Hey, don't be so confident when you say that. It'll hurt if you get slapped in the face."
"How could it be!" Gojo Satoru straightened up, put his hands on his hips, and looked proud. "We are the only ones with no upper limit and no lower limit. This is beyond doubt."
His voice was vague but extremely firm, as if this was an indisputable truth.
Ye Moth Zhengdao turned around, pushed his glasses, and smiled with helplessness and relief, "Stop talking nonsense and listen to the class carefully."
The warm sunshine at that time fell on the young people, the air was filled with chalk dust and the scent of youth, and the pure belief was like uncarved crystal, clear and shining.
Geto Suguru nodded with gentle but firm eyes, his heart full of longing and passion for the future.
However, the beautiful picture was like fragile glass, shattered in an instant.
The scene suddenly distorted and faded, and the warm classroom turned into a gloomy village.
The foul smell hit me in the face, making me sick.
The curses of the ignorant villagers were like sharp thorns, piercing into Geto Suguru's eardrums.
Inside the iron cage, two little girls with magical powers had expressions of fear, numbness, and despair in their eyes.
They huddled in the corner, their bodies covered with scars, their eyes like a pool of stagnant water, devoid of any life.
Immediately afterwards, after the astral plasma mission failed, the fanatical faces of the Panxing cultists appeared before his eyes.
They laughed crazily, their eyes flashing with greed and evil, as if celebrating a victory, but completely ignoring the sin that was built on the lives of others.
The cold words in Huibara's death report were like a sharp blade, piercing his heart.
Nanami's profile, tired but insisting that "work is shit", kept flashing in his mind.
Countless faces of ordinary people flashed by quickly - greedy, cowardly, cruel, numb... They were like heavy mud, covering layer by layer on the crystal of belief in "protecting the weak" in his memory. As the pressure continued to increase, the crystal made a harsh cracking sound.
"Protect?... Huh..." In the fragments of consciousness, Geto Suguru heard his own cold voice echoing, a voice filled with fatigue and extreme disgust.
"Monkeys are still monkeys... Mountains of corpses won't bring them a single glimmer of clarity... only fear! Only by cleansing this filthy world with absolute fear can a new order be born!"
Memories exploded like broken mirrors.
The collapsed beams and pillars of the Japanese-style room rolled down, condensing into a thick black vortex in the cracks of his memory, dragging him into deeper darkness.
"What a noble ideal, to be the protector of the weak?"
A sinister arc appeared at the corner of Juansuo's mouth, and his fingertips slowly and methodically wrapped around the thread of cursed power. The black mist in the area surged like a living thing, condensing into a distorted human face behind him.
He nodded slightly, glanced at Geto Suguru with a half-smile, spoke in a drawn-out tone, and each word ended with sarcasm, as if he was watching a farce.
"Look at these people you're protecting. How are they looking at you?"
Before he finished speaking, the silk rope suddenly exploded, and the threads of cursed energy shot out like poisonous snakes, drawing a cold arc in the air.
"You think you're redeeming others? You're just feeding a bunch of insatiable termites. Those corpses aren't the price, they're the retribution you deserve. The price you pay for self-righteously treating yourselves as saviors."
Juansuo opened his arms, raised his head and laughed shrilly. The space within the area began to twist and crack. The roar of the Slit-Mouthed Woman and his voice intertwined into a strange melody.
His pupils shrank into needle-like shapes, his face was filled with paranoid madness, his fists were clenched until veins bulged, and his feet were stepping on the ground covered with cursed corpses, as if he was standing on the altar of his own twisted ideas.
The cursed power surged into a vortex around the silk rope, and the cursed skeleton under his feet suddenly trembled strangely.
In a trance, Xia Yujie felt that the twisted limbs were wriggling to form the outline of the classroom, and chalk dust was falling on the wooden podium.
Cherry blossoms drifted into the classroom from the window, dabbing at the tips of a young boy's hair. Ye Mo Zhengmichi paced between desks, his hands behind his back. The clatter of his leather shoes on the floor gradually overlapped with the clash of spells emanating from the battlefield. The sunlight from the spring campus penetrated the mist of memory, illuminating the unwiped chalk marks on the blackboard.
"Getsuyu, taking you as an example, you all need to understand what you seek. Why do you wield the technique in your hand, and what does it mean to you? When you find these answers, that will be the time for your breakthrough."
Chalk dust fell on my shoulders like a thin layer of unmelted snow.
The back of his neck was suddenly grabbed by a warm hand. The force was neither light nor heavy, but it made Geto Suguru stiffen like a frozen fox.
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