Chapter 95: I’m an atheist.
An Wujiu’s evasive answers made Shen Ti even more anxious.
He could only pull An Wujiu into his arms, pressing a hand on his back, trying to give An Wujiu a sense of security.
“I understand.”
If his sister was only seven years old at that time, An Wujiu couldn’t be much older.
An Wujiu was not fully conscious, and many unfamiliar scenes were flooding into his mind, like scattered scraps of paper—too many to pick up.
He vaguely thought about Shen Ti’s question and then said, “I was ten years old at that time, three years older than her.”
From An Wujiu’s fragmented words, Shen Ti, for the first time in his life, felt a piercing pain, as if his heart were connected to An Wujiu’s.
“You remember she escaped, right?”
An Wujiu’s forehead was pressed against his shoulder, and he nodded slightly.
“She was so young, it’s possible…”
She’s been gone for a long time.
“She wasn’t as smart as Noah, a bit spoiled, and always needed me for everything,” An Wujiu said, suddenly choking up.
Those seemingly erased memories returned, and he was certain they were real because only these memories could cause him such genuine pain.
“That’s something we can’t be sure of,” Shen Ti comforted him. “Let’s try to find her. Maybe she’s living well now.”
An Wujiu knew he was trying to comfort him, and he also understood that now was not the time to be sad.
He took a deep breath, withdrew from Shen Ti’s embrace, his face pale but showing a kind of calm determination, as if these matters were already ordinary to him.
“I am twenty years old this year. I was ten when I was kidnapped. According to the information Gabriel helped find, my mother died ten years ago.”
An Wujiu analyzed calmly and rationally, as if separating his emotions from his reason, in front of Shen Ti.
Although Shen Ti felt sad, he also understood that An Wujiu could not indulge in sorrow; he had to keep moving towards his goal to avoid pain.
So Shen Ti took An Wujiu’s hand and walked with him, saying, “You mean your mother died the same year you and your sister had the incident.”
An Wujiu lightly responded, “Hmm,” “But in my memory, she sent my sister and me into a car, an autonomous car, and the destination seemed very far away. I only remember that the expected mileage was very long. But the car was hit by another car midway, and we were taken away.”
After saying this, An Wujiu frowned slightly, “Why didn’t she go with us?”
This was also what Shen Ti found strange.
According to what Gabriel found, An Wujiu’s mother was forcibly taken away due to delusions, which matched what An Wujiu previously said about the house burning and her self-immolation.
If it was really because of delusions that she put the kids in the car, it always felt a bit strange.
“Is it possible…” Shen Ti speculated, “that she was trying to lure someone away?”
An Wujiu was startled; he had never thought of this reason.
Standing by the elevator door was an old man with a hunched back, a white man with silver hair, thin to the bone, and a metal ankle.
His hand was originally in the pocket of his old coat, but when they approached, he took his hand out.
Shen Ti took a closer look, holding An Wujiu’s hand as they walked by. The elevator door happened to open, and they followed in.
Shen Ti, being very vigilant, noticed the old man standing with his back to them without pressing any floor buttons, so he didn’t press any either, and instead reminded him aloud.
The old man responded twice, saying he had forgotten and apologized, then pressed the button for the 13th floor. Shen Ti reached out, pressed a floor button beyond him, not 43 where Yang Erci lived, but 44.
An Wujiu, sensing the meaning behind Shen Ti’s silence, also focused his gaze on the old man in front of him. There was a smell of decaying vegetation on him, and his neck was covered with brown age spots, like an old tree.
The reflective elevator walls showed the old man’s withered hands. He opened his coat and reached inside.
At the moment he was about to turn around, An Wujiu blocked Shen Ti. This instinctive action even surprised Shen Ti.
But what the old man took out from his coat was not a gun, as they had thought, but a heavy old book.
A false alarm, An Wujiu lowered his raised hand.
The old man mumbled indistinctly, his voice sounding like a gurgle from his throat. An Wujiu could barely make out a few words, but he kept repeating them over and over.
An Wujiu managed to string these together into a sentence.
“The god is coming, follow me, and you will witness the resurrection of the world’s ruler…”
He held a dusty, thick book in his withered hand, trying to push it into An Wujiu’s hands. This was too strange, and An Wujiu instinctively resisted. Shen Ti reached out and pushed the strange old man, and the book fell to the ground with a thud.
The book’s cover was brownish-green velvet, with a claw mark in the center, as if it had been drawn.
When the book fell, the old man looked up and accidentally met Shen Ti’s eyes. He seemed frightened, retreating constantly until his back was against the elevator door, and suddenly let out a scream.
The 13th floor arrived suddenly.
The elevator door opened, and the old man almost fell, trembling as he staggered out, his mumbling becoming sharp and high-pitched. He shouted as he fled, like a madman.
“You will see! You will see it with your own eyes!”
His words echoed in the elevator and the corridor, like a ghost. As the elevator door was about to close, An Wujiu suddenly pressed the open button.
“That’s strange. I’ll go out and take a look.”
Shen Ti followed him out.
But strangely, in just a short moment, the man had disappeared.
“He must be a cultist.”
An Wujiu nodded. They didn’t catch up to the man, nor did they take the book. Fearing they might keep Yang Erci waiting, the two decided to go to her place first. When they got back to the elevator, the book was gone, probably picked up by someone else.
Perhaps because of the recovered memories, An Wujiu became increasingly suspicious. He always felt that the man’s appearance was not a coincidence. With this in mind, he followed Shen Ti to Yang Erci’s place, deep in thought.
Before long, the apartment door opened, and Noah greeted An Wujiu and Shen Ti, saying, “Erci and Yirou are fixing the main computer.”
“Fixing the main computer?” An Wujiu and Shen Ti exchanged a glance, then entered the apartment and followed Noah to the studio, where they found the two indeed working at the workbench.
Shen Ti saw Zhong Yirou sitting on the armrest of Yang Erci’s chair, very close, and deliberately coughed twice.
“What’s going on here?”
Zhong Yirou was startled and got up from the chair.
“You’ve arrived,” Yang Erci said succinctly, “Have a seat.”
An Wujiu glanced at the main computer, and his eyes accidentally landed on the table next to Yang Erci’s hand, his body stiffening.
How could it be…
The book they had left in the elevator was now on Yang Erci’s workbench!
Shen Ti also saw it and asked calmly, “Where did this book come from?”
Yang Erci glanced at it, “Oh, Noah just brought it in. She said someone knocked on the door and insisted on giving it to her.”
An Wujiu turned to look at Noah, who nodded and described the person’s appearance.
“Before I opened the door, I thought it was you, Brother Wujiu, but it was a silver-haired old man, muttering nonsense, dressed in rags. He gave me this book and then left.”
After saying this, she leaned back onto a chair behind her.
Things were getting stranger and stranger.
An Wujiu walked over, picked up the book, and tried to see what was inside.
But he couldn’t open it.
Not only him, but everyone present except Shen Ti tried, and no one could open even the first page.
“Let me try?”
A series of bizarre events made Shen Ti doubt if he had left the Holy Altar. He took the book and tried to open the cover.
But it seemed as if some powerful force was preventing his actions. However, Shen Ti was stubborn. Even sensing this, he still wanted to open it.
Unexpectedly, he did manage to open a page but couldn’t turn any further.
This page seemed to be the title page, with yellowed paper and many incomprehensible words, written in an unfamiliar language using an old calligraphic style, making it even harder to decipher.
An Wujiu couldn’t understand what was written, but it seemed familiar.
In his memory, there was also such a book, but the cover color seemed different.
He tried hard to recall, vaguely remembering it was red.
Blood red.
Shen Ti placed the book flat on the sofa, pulling An Wujiu to sit down, feeling his hand was a bit cold. Shen Ti took his hand and wrapped it with his own palm.
Yang Erci turned her chair and rubbed her temples, “My main computer seems to have been infected with a virus. It was fine last night, but now I can’t project anything for you.”
“A virus?” An Wujiu asked, “What kind?”
“Very strange, it has turned completely green now.” Yang Erci tried to project it for them. As she said, it was just a thick green, very unpleasant.
“I was just checking my emails, and suddenly a new one appeared from an unknown sender. I didn’t open it, but when I closed the mailbox, I got hit. A video popped up, like a horror game trailer with a monster theme, and after it played, it became like this.”
An Wujiu looked at the green hologram, finding it odd.
“A game trailer, also related to faith?”
Yang Erci recalled, “Sort of, but not conventional Western faith. Not so pleasant.”
The nightmares she had were like previews, with these disgusting and eerie things appearing in her dreams first.
An Wujiu looked at the book again, his doubts growing deeper.
“Let’s not talk about this for now.”
Although Yang Erci’s main computer was damaged, she had the foresight to copy all the information sorted out last night and send it to Zhong Yirou.
At Yang Erci’s request, Zhong Yirou displayed the information bit by bit to An Wujiu, while Yang Erci shared her guesses.
Surprisingly, An Wujiu’s face showed no expression as he listened, neither surprised nor shocked.
After they finished speaking, An Wujiu finally spoke.
“I understand.” His voice was soft. He had actually considered these suspicions before, and they coincided with what Gabriel had said.
“Your guess is probably correct.”
Yang Erci already had some confidence, but hearing An Wujiu’s confirmation didn’t make her any happier. She suddenly felt a bit of sympathy for this person who seemed invincible, even though it wasn’t something An Wujiu needed.
Given an extra day of rest, An Wujiu felt a bit lost. Having stayed in the Holy Altar for so long, he seemed to have forgotten how to live a normal life.
Shen Ti watched him sit by the floor-to-ceiling window, staring blankly. The overflowing lights of the city at night shone on An Wujiu, casting strange and colorful patterns. He looked like a blank screen, emptily accepting everything the world bestowed upon him.
“Can’t sleep?” Shen Ti sat beside An Wujiu, handing him a cup of hot milk.
An Wujiu softly thanked him, took the milk, and drank a sip. His numbed insides seemed to receive a brief but soothing comfort.
“Can’t see any stars at all,” Shen Ti looked out the window, “Not a single one.”
“Yes,” An Wujiu agreed, also looking at the night sky.
Flying machines hovered in the air like ghosts, drifting incessantly. An Wujiu suddenly thought of Gabriel’s words; he said that the more advanced technology becomes, the emptier humans feel.
The emptier they feel, the more they seek some form of ideological support, such as faith.
“Do you believe there’s a god in this world?” he asked Shen Ti.
Shen Ti leaned back, casually laughing, “I don’t believe.”
“Are you so sure?” An Wujiu turned to look at him.
Shen Ti leaned in, touching his forehead to An Wujiu’s, smiling like a child, “Of course, I’m not sure.”
“Besides, how do you define a god? Human faith isn’t always about the supernatural.”
An Wujiu lowered his eyes, his lashes trembling slightly, “That’s true.”
Nowadays, humans excessively rely on and have faith in technology, to the point where they are gradually losing their essence as human beings.
Organs can be replaced with artificial ones, bones with metal, skin with rubber.
To what extent must a person be altered before they are no longer considered human?
“If it were now, the fastest and most convenient way to spread a religion wouldn’t be like that old man today,” An Wujiu laughed softly.
“What would it be then?” Shen Ti leaned against him.
“Things like citizen chips or the internet. Everyone uses them, every day. These things have become an inseparable part of human beings.”
That was true.
Shen Ti suddenly thought, “If I were a god, I definitely wouldn’t want to come and occupy Earth.”
An Wujiu found his statement absurd but couldn’t help asking, “Why?”
“Humans are really boring. You can see through them at a glance. What could they possibly offer me as a sacrifice? If I were a god, I would already have everything. What do I need followers for? They’d just be a nuisance.”
An Wujiu found his words oddly childish, “Is that so? Then a god like you must be very lonely.”
Hearing this, Shen Ti suddenly paused, his head tilting slightly, reminding An Wujiu of some cute little animal, unknowingly lifting his spirits.
“You’re right.”
Shen Ti suddenly raised his hand and hugged An Wujiu, “Then be my follower.”
An Wujiu pretended to be aloof, “I’m an atheist.”
Shen Ti half-pouted and half-played, “It’s not real. Can’t you just humor me?”
“Alright, alright,” An Wujiu, shaken by him, relented, “I agree.”
Shen Ti thought he had won and felt a bit smug, but unexpectedly, An Wujiu suddenly raised his hand.
“Even though I don’t believe in gods, I won’t let you be alone.”
An Wujiu spoke softly, cupping Shen Ti’s face with both hands and placing a sincere kiss on his forehead.
Even the disturbing neon lights came to witness.
For every Ko-fi received for a perticular novel, I will release a new chapter!
