Changsheng Building
Chapter 659: Death of a fanatic
“Ding-ling.”
Wen Jianyan, with one hand in his pocket, walked unhurriedly out of the shop. The brass bell hanging on the door shook, making a crisp sound.
“Pi-noc-chio, Pinocchio! You—!”
Behind him, the dusty glass door slowly closed, blocking Gentleman’s nearly maniacal voice behind it.
Wen Jianyan didn’t look back.
The faint candlelight flickered behind the glass door, gradually dimming.
The world suddenly became extraordinarily quiet.
Wen Jianyan walked unhurriedly toward the distance.
Deep in the corridor, endless darkness awaited there. Shadows dispersed with his steps, seeming to open their arms to welcome his arrival.
“Got it?”
The tall man lowered his golden eyes, gazing at Wen Jianyan walking toward him.
“Of course.” Wen Jianyan raised his eyes, raising the thing in his hand with a faint smile.
This was the last missing page he needed. With it, the Dead Sea Scrolls could be completely restored, and the black box within the [Yuying Comprehensive University] instance would no longer be a riddle—
What exactly were those strange characters? Why could Zhang Yunsheng use them to transform the entire university into a womb for nurturing a new god?
And in this grand plan, what role did Nightmare play?
Countless questions spanned across, finally arriving at the moment the veil was about to be lifted.
Wen Jianyan took a deep breath, suppressing the growing palpitation in his heart, and said: “However, before that… we still have one thing to do.”
“?” Wu Zhu looked at him questioningly.
Wen Jianyan narrowed his eyes and said slowly: “Gentleman isn’t dead yet.”
Admittedly, Gentleman couldn’t leave this shop alive no matter what.
Unfortunately, this wasn’t the end.
Because he didn’t just have one life.
Wen Jianyan knew that Gentleman had left a portrait of himself in the gallery within the Xingwang Hotel, which meant that even if he died in the shop, he could still be resurrected.
“We need to act quickly,” Wen Jianyan said calmly. “Otherwise, once he resurrects, it will be big trouble.”
If he really escaped this calamity, it would likely cause endless trouble.
Not just because he was the Vice President of Oracle, an excellent tool for Nightmare to exert control, but also because Gentleman, as a person, would never easily forget this merciless siege. Once he truly survived, he would inevitably launch ruthless revenge—although he might not find Wen Jianyan immediately, that didn’t mean he couldn’t find others.
And the energy of an Oracle Vice President seeking revenge with full force was definitely not to be underestimated.
Every minute Gentleman lived longer was another minute of hidden danger.
“Let’s go, to the fifth floor.”
“Restore this instance first.”
Wen Jianyan raised his eyes. His light-colored pupils were immersed in darkness, reflecting a cold, hard light.
“Then kill Gentleman.”
Gentleman must die.
And it must be right here, right now.
Inside the shop.
At this moment, Gentleman calmed down instead.
He took a deep breath, discarded all chaotic thoughts, and swallowed the roar of hatred back into the depths of his throat.
Pinocchio had already left; cursing more was useless. Moreover, his enemy now was no longer him, but the darkness itself within the instance.
The candlelight, burned to its end, flickered with difficulty, reflecting deep in Gentleman’s dilated pupils like the last gasp of a dying person. After a few final beats, it finally extinguished miserably.
A wisp of gray-white smoke rose from the charred wick. Boundless darkness surged in like a tide.
Unlike the last time the oil lamp went out, this time, Gentleman no longer tried to use any items to prolong his life, but instead sat down leaning against the counter.
In the live broadcast room, the number of online viewers had risen to its peak.
Gentleman’s desperate survival, Pinocchio’s unexpected appearance, the fall of a Top Ten legend… all reasons stacked up at this moment, pushing the live room’s heat to an unprecedented peak.
Watching Gentleman’s near-self-abandonment behavior, the audience had conflicting opinions.
[No way, he just gave up like this?]
[Uh, although the situation is indeed not optimistic this time, just giving up? Doesn’t seem like him…]
[No, I don’t think so. Don’t forget, Gentleman went to the Xingwang Hotel instance. If I remember correctly, several anchors who ‘came back from the dead’ before had experienced that instance.]
[You mean… he still has a backup plan?]
Yes.
The reason Gentleman could wait so calmly for the arrival of “death” was precisely because he wasn’t without a backup plan.
To prepare for this moment, he had left his own portrait in the gallery of Xingwang Hotel long ago. This meant that once he died in the instance, he could still have a second chance.
However, unless absolutely necessary, Gentleman didn’t want to use this method.
Not just because everyone only had one chance, but also because he knew that portrait had hidden dangers.
From resurrection in the gallery to returning to Nightmare, many things could happen during this period.
Some survived, some didn’t.
The Mason also left his portrait in the gallery, but he was obviously not one of the lucky ones. After dying in the [Yuying Comprehensive University] instance, his name never lit up on the rankings again.
Whether this was related to Pinocchio or not, it was a huge hidden danger. Because of this, after realizing he could no longer leave the [Changsheng Building] instance alive this time, Gentleman immediately gave up struggling—this was the conclusion drawn after weighing the pros and cons—now, he must preserve his strength as much as possible so he could concentrate on dealing with everything that might appear after “resurrection.”
Substantive yin energy invaded, coldness seeping into his skin, ruthlessly stealing his body temperature.
Gentleman’s skin was turning pale at a speed visible to the naked eye. Cyan-black corpse spots emerged from under the skin. He could clearly feel the sensation of “living” rapidly draining from his body, bringing a cold and weightless pain.
Gentleman coldly chewed on this feeling.
This was the first time he experienced the process of death so concretely and clearly.
He would remember it deeply, to pay it back a hundred, a thousand times in the future.
But this time, why…
This question was cut off by Gentleman immediately after emerging in his mind.
After all, Nightmare’s long disconnection a while ago was known to all. Its failure to respond to his calls during this time must have objective reasons, not…
Gentleman forced himself not to think about the latter possibility.
Just dozens of seconds after the candlelight extinguished, the terrifying yin energy had penetrated deep into his internal organs. Even a top-level body strength of a Nightmare Top Ten couldn’t contend with it. Within a few breaths, death was close at hand.
However, just at this moment…
“Ding-ling!”
The crisp brass bell sounded as if from a very distant place, appearing extraordinarily abrupt in the dead silent shop.
Gentleman almost thought this was his pre-death hallucination, until…
Accompanied by approaching footsteps, a warm light fell on his body, briefly dispelling the chill of death.
“…?”
Gentleman lifted his heavy eyelids with difficulty, looking toward the direction the light came from.
A few steps away, an extremely thin figure stood not far off, carrying a swaying copper oil lamp. Under the gloomy light, his back was slightly hunched, looking increasingly like a giant humanoid insect.
Anise?!
Seeing the newcomer, the audience in the live room couldn’t help but exclaim:
“Holy shit! Anise?”
“Why is he here?!”
Anise carried the oil lamp, looking around by the dim light. His gaze swept indifferently over Gentleman, seeming to mutter something to himself.
“…Tsk, still a bit late, really…”
After a brief daze, Gentleman’s nerves, which had gradually become dull under darkness erosion, finally became active again. Energy and heat burst out from the depths of his eyes once more. This time, even his usually calm voice involuntarily carried a tone of surprise: “Mr. Anise…! Really didn’t expect you to appear at this time!”
“I’m truly sorry you see me in such a sorry state, but I’m in poor condition now, so I’ll speak frankly—you remember Pinocchio, right? Actually, this instance was specially designed by him to pull us in.”
Even in such a wretched state, Gentleman still hadn’t completely lost the acuity of a senior anchor. Bringing up Pinocchio directly was because the hatred between the two wasn’t shallower than his own. However, the other party didn’t need to know this trap was set specifically for him; otherwise, Anise would weigh more pros and cons.
Releasing some necessary information while hiding another part to seek the situation most beneficial to himself.
“I originally thought I was really done for this time, but I didn’t expect you to send charcoal in snowy weather,” Gentleman supported himself against the nearby wall, standing up shakily. Even though his face was still very poor, he had vaguely regained his previous confidence and dignity. He wore a smile, eyes revealing undisguised coldness,
“This time, we will definitely make him pay the pri…”
Unfortunately, Gentleman was interrupted by Anise before he finished speaking.
“So, it’s Pinocchio, right?”
Anise touched the dust on the counter with his finger, rubbing it absentmindedly.
He looked up at Gentleman:
“He was here before?”
This question was abrupt. Gentleman was stunned but nodded: “Yes…”
“How long has he been gone?” Anise continued to ask, “Where did he go?”
“Not lo—” Before he could finish half the sentence, Gentleman seemed to realize something and stopped abruptly.
The smile on his face gradually disappeared as he stared expressionlessly at the uninvited guest not far away.
“…You knew long ago that Pinocchio was in this instance.”
This wasn’t a question.
Suddenly, all the fog in his mind gradually dispersed, and many questions were answered in an instant.
“…Knew before the instance started, right?”
Anise clearly wasn’t prepared to hide it either, just letting out a hoarse sneer.
“Correct.”
“Why?” Gentleman stared deathly at him. His eyes reflected the pale oil lamp light, his expression becoming somewhat ferocious at that instant. That face, which appeared composed even when facing death earlier, now almost seemed somewhat terrifying. “Why, did, you, know?”
Before anything happened.
Before the instance was even generated… Anise already knew this instance was Pinocchio’s trap. Where did his information come from?
“Since you already have a guess, why ask me?” Anise cackled strangely. That voice echoed in the empty shop, sounding almost chilling. “Of course because we serve the same existence.”
“Nightmare wants Pinocchio. In fact, it has always wanted him. Did you really never realize? But for some reason, it can’t catch him now. Just right, Pinocchio wants you, so Nightmare indulged him in setting this trap to pull you in…”
The smile on Anise’s face appeared very cold under the oil lamp.
“And I just need to watch you to find him again.”
“…”
Listening to Anise’s words, Gentleman’s stiff face showed no expression. He stood fixedly on the spot, eyes blank.
And Anise didn’t care.
After all, he didn’t come here for Gentleman.
“Alright, since he’s no longer here, I can’t stay much longer. It wouldn’t be good if he ran away,” he muttered in a low voice to himself. “But forget it, not a big problem, anyway…”
“As for you…” Anise looked at Gentleman. “Best not think about snatching the lamp from my hand. In your current state, you can’t do it. Moreover… don’t forget what my talent is.”
Controlling ghosts.
In the Changsheng Building instance, such a talent had extraordinarily terrifying utility.
He carried the oil lamp, turned, and walked toward the door. Before leaving, seeming to think of something, Anise stopped, cast a glance at Gentleman standing fixedly behind him, and let out a strange laugh:
“Anyway, after this ends, you can still ‘resurrect,’ right?”
After saying this, Anise cackled, pushed the door, and walked out.
The oppressive black world crushed in, swallowing the shop like a tide, including Gentleman standing silently like a statue deep in the shop.
Leaving the stairwell, the fourth floor of Changsheng Building appeared before him.
They stayed on the third floor for a very short time. Other anchors in the instance hadn’t had time to gather enough turnover to leave the third floor. Because of this, this floor was empty. Shop doors on all sides were tightly closed, pitch black inside, with no second figure.
Strictly speaking, the fifth floor of Changsheng Building didn’t exist, but once certain conditions were met, it could be opened again.
Wen Jianyan lit a red candle.
Under the illumination of weird red light, a looming staircase appeared before his eyes.
Because the candle’s light was far dimmer than the oil lamp, this staircase also appeared more distant than last time.
“Let’s go…”
Wen Jianyan stopped halfway through his sentence.
Not far ahead, footsteps sounded without warning.
Wen Jianyan was startled, looking up involuntarily.
A ghost attracted by the red candlelight?
No, not right.
Wen Jianyan quickly denied his guess.
The candle’s efficacy was far less intense than the oil lamp, unable to activate hidden supernatural forces so quickly. And all “customers” were still on the third floor, not yet time to come up to the fourth floor. Moreover, with Wu Zhu by his side, ghosts naturally wouldn’t be allowed close.
Then it would be…
Clack, clack, clack.
Footsteps approached.
“Chick.”
A soft sound of metal friction rang out. A cluster of orange-yellow flames leaped up, lighting the slender cigarette clamped between knuckles, also illuminating the tall figure of the newcomer and his weary brows.
Hugo.
Wen Jianyan’s heart skipped a beat.
He stared deathly at that familiar figure not far away. Clearly, they had braved death together not long ago, but at this moment, his shoulders were tightly tensed, eyes flashing with deep, unfathomable cold light.
Wen Jianyan seemed to suddenly realize something.
He lowered his head and opened the live broadcast room.
The live broadcast room screen, which had not lit up for two full instances, began flickering with static at some point, seemingly struggling to regain signal.
“?” Wu Zhu lowered his head, casting a puzzled look.
Wen Jianyan abruptly raised his hand to grab Wu Zhu’s arm, looking at him with a cold, solemn gaze:
“Leave here. Fast.”
“Before I call you, don’t come out.”
Death came far easier than imagined.
And far faster than imagined.
Gentleman opened his eyes. Before him appeared a familiar long corridor. Countless portraits hung high and low on the walls. Everyone’s face was blurred and pale; clearly motionless, yet they seemed like some living creatures, emitting an uncomfortable aura.
A black and red picture frame hung squarely behind him. The canvas inside had become blank.
Everyone could only leave a portrait in the gallery once, not a second time.
Gentleman had used up one life.
But he wasn’t dead yet.
He stood fixedly in the gallery, slowly, numbly, stiffly lowering his head to look at his open palm.
Anise’s earlier words seemed to echo heavily in his ears.
Why Nightmare never communicated with him again. Why he never received any “oracles” again. Why his request to leave the instance was easily ignored. So this was the reason.
Because he had long been abandoned.
He was bait. Bait to fish out a more important existence.
Whether due to exhaustion from resurrection, Gentleman’s legs suddenly went soft. His kneecaps hit the ground heavily, making a teeth-aching “thud.”
Suddenly, at this moment, a familiar mechanical voice rang in his ears.
“Detected anchor… zzzt… please sign contract again… supplement additional clauses…”
A brand new contract appeared in front of Gentleman.
Nightmare would rescue the one in crisis from this corridor, letting him detach directly from the place of death and return to the anchor space. In return, the anchor needed to cede more rights, becoming a more loyal dog and claw.
Everyone awakening from the gallery needed to sign this contract.
Otherwise, leaving alive would be absolutely impossible.
But Gentleman didn’t focus his gaze on it.
He just stared blankly at the ground, depths of his eyes hollow, without a trace of emotion.
God abandoned him.
No, not just that.
Under Nightmare’s hint, Su Cheng could easily enter the guild, directly becoming Oracle’s president. The cruise ship negative sixth floor invitation letter he desperately desired, the Oracle president position he racked his brains and spared no cost for, were readily available to a newcomer who just joined the guild.
No matter what he had done, no matter how loyal, how fanatical… it was meaningless.
God didn’t abandon him.
But… never cared, never loved him.
“Ha… hahaha… hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!”
Gentleman cackled.
He laughed louder and louder, sharper and sharper, until finally appearing almost maniacal.
“Zzzt… please anchor… sign…”
Beside his ear, the mechanical voice was still urging.
Gentleman was still laughing. He lowered his head while laughing crazily.
In his palm, a snow-bright knife had appeared at some point.
That was the knife he used to end countless followers and turn them into items.
He raised his hand, and with that knife, slowly, steadily, easily slit his own throat.
The laughter stopped abruptly.
Author’s Note:
Finally wrote Gentleman’s death.
I’ve been paving the way for his death for a long time, and this time finally advanced to here.
From Su Cheng parachuting in, to Su Cheng getting the pass to the negative sixth floor, while Gentleman, clearly more qualified to be a candidate, wasn’t allowed to pursue.
Then to Nightmare’s silence after the Lucky Cruise instance ended, the stimulation from the radio in Changsheng Building, and the ignoring of the request to leave the instance.
And Anise’s final explanation became the last straw that broke the camel’s back.
The so-called “Oracle” is divine command and decree. The guild Oracle is just as its name implies, a tool conveying divine will without personal will. Its president is Nightmare’s agent in the human world, and the vice president is the most radical believer among them.
Because of this, Gentleman’s death could only be suicide.
After all, for a fanatic, physical destruction is merely martyrdom, while the collapse of faith is true death.
