The demonic mask slipped from his grasp and clattered to the ground with a sharp metallic ring.
Not particularly loud.
The sickly fervor that had sustained Yu Hui’s will crumbled the moment the mask fell away.
His body swayed, then toppled backward like a felled tree, kicking up a cloud of dust.
As the dust settled, his face—now utterly exposed—lay bare to the air.
Pale, haggard, and damnably familiar.
Jiang Xia’s breath hitched for an instant.
That face… it truly belonged to the old classmate he remembered, the one who had once stood beneath the academy’s great locust tree with him, brimming with ambition as they debated the future.
Something tightened in his chest, a dull ache spreading outward.
For a moment, Jiang Xia didn’t know how to judge this "old friend" before him.
Call him evil?
His grand theory about "preserving the last embers of human civilization" had been delivered with such righteous conviction, as if he were a martyr bearing the weight of salvation.
And true, he hadn’t outright revealed the truth of the "Abyss" to the public, sparing society from collapse.
But then—why attack the Martial Exam?
Jiang Xia knew Old Shen’s nature too well. The man was steeped in a stubborn arrogance, a self-assured superiority.
His logic was probably this:
"If even we ‘elites’—battle-hardened and seasoned—are at a loss against this crisis, how can we pin our hopes on a bunch of fledglings who’ve yet to step into the real world?"
"What a joke. Since your higher-ups plan to throw them into the ‘Abyss’ as cannon fodder sooner or later, I might as well cull these ‘so-called hopes’ now. Maybe then you’ll finally abandon this farce and consider my proposal."
But to call him good?
Then look at what he’d done over the years. Not a single act could be remotely described as "good."
Slaughtering innocent Martial Exam candidates?
Every one of them was a pillar of Great Xia’s future!
Or how about those twisted ritual attacks on government institutions?
Squandering already-strained strategic resources just to fight him—resources that should’ve been spent on the front lines against the Abyss!
And let’s not forget his poisonous rhetoric, his cult-like following, his seduction of others toward ruin.
Every single deed!
Any one of them was enough to land him in prison for life, with no chance of redemption.
No matter how noble his words sounded, they couldn’t mask the blood on his hands or the atrocities he’d committed.
One term summed it up perfectly:
"Traitor."
How bitterly ironic.
Once, they’d burned with the same fire, willing to sacrifice everything to protect humanity’s future.
Now? One had become a guardian, defending a city.
The other had fallen so far as to become a remnant of the "Heralds," an enemy of civilization itself, despised by all.
Fate had a cruel sense of humor.
Jiang Xia bent down slowly and picked up the cold metal mask.
Its design was grotesque, the mouth stretched into an impossibly wide grin, as if mocking the world itself.
His fingers traced the rough, icy surface.
So, this sneering demon’s face—
Was it the mask…
Or Old Shen’s true visage now?
Jiang Xia’s voice was low. "I’ll admit, I’ve never been as quick-witted or silver-tongued as you."
"Back at the academy, whenever we argued over those bullshit theories, I never won a single damn debate!"
"But this time…"
"I have to ask."
"Once you put this mask on… could you really take it off as easily as you claim?"
"Isn’t it just another mask over your heart?"
"You’re drowning in pessimism."
"So why snuff out the hope others carry?"
"Why force everyone to embrace your despair?"
"Do you still see yourself as some tragic, misunderstood hero, martyred by the world’s ignorance?"
His voice suddenly sharpened.
"Real heroes are the ones who march straight into hell—knowing it’s suicide, knowing they’ll die—and still stand tall, teeth gritted, leaving bloody footprints as they go, laughing in death’s face!"
"You want to talk about sacrifice?"
"Fuck your sacrifice! Every year, how many soldiers, researchers, nameless souls burn to ash on the Abyss’s front lines, defending hundreds of millions behind them?"
"Every last one of them is worth ten of you! Your so-called ‘sacrifice’ is nothing!"
"You had the guts to lay this life-or-death trap for me…"
"So why not have the guts to stand with me at the Abyss’s edge and die properly?"
With that, Jiang Xia hurled the mask to the ground with a violent heave!
Before it could bounce back up—
His foot came down, crushing it into fragments with a decisive crack.
Breathing hard, he ground the shards under his heel, twisting viciously.
Men like Old Shen disgusted him more than outright villains.
Against pure evil, Jiang Xia could strike without hesitation, without a flicker of remorse.
Kill them? Good riddance. Justice served.
But this kind of hypocrite—hiding behind a "noble" cause while committing atrocities, draping their sins in righteousness?
He didn’t understand their philosophical gymnastics, nor did he care to.
He lived by one simple truth.
Hope wasn’t something handed out like charity. It wasn’t earned by extinguishing others’ hope to prove your own "enlightenment"!
Hope was seized. Fought for. Earned.
Jiang Xia spat on the wrecked mask. "Tch. Thought you were something back then. Turns out you’re just a fool who fell for his own act."
Only after venting his fury did he turn to the guardians of Shan Cheng and Cloud City.
He clasped his fists. "My thanks for the assist. I’ll skip the pleasantries—I owe you both. Next round’s on me."
"He lured me out for a reason. There’s a bigger play here. I need to get back."
"Need reinforcements?" Shan Cheng asked. "Though I can’t stay long. My district’s been restless lately—those scum are stirring again."
Cloud City’s guardian remained silent as ever. With a flick of her wrist, droplets of blood arced through the air before she sheathed her dagger, hesitating briefly.
Jiang Xia waved them off. "No need."
"I’ve already called in others."
His voice still hung in the air as he vanished, a streak of lightning racing toward the Martial Exam’s origin site.
ions, keeping it grounded and realistic】 After quitting his job, office worker Su Yang accidentally binds with the "Enjoy Life System." As the name suggests, simply by indulging in life's pleasures, he can earn random rewards from the system—no need to spend money on beautiful women or grovel before anyone. Just enjoy, and the money follows, making it all about effortless fun. The system comes with a scanning feature, allowing him to establish a favorability bond with women rated 85 points or above. Every 20-point increase in favorability unlocks additional rewards. After suffering through over twenty years of hardship, Su Yang trembles with excitement, his dull eyes suddenly gleaming with newfound hope. "Enjoy life? How hard could that be?"
he colors of other people’s emotions. Light red meant anxiety. Gray meant exhaustion. Orange meant excitement. Yellow... meant repression. At the same time, he could gain unlimited control over one of those colors. Pale cyan: relaxation. Using this ability, he started offering “two-yuan hugs,” spending an afternoon exchanging emotional-color experiences with others. Then came his final female customer of the day— a girl whose emotional color was pure black... —— A week later, Xu Chuan had become skilled at using pale cyan—Relaxation—treating it like a bottle of menthol balm whenever he needed it. That was when he discovered he had unlocked another unlimited emotional color: Purple, the color of fear. So these emotional colors refresh every week? Fine, I take it back—I’ll never call you useless again... —— Much later, after Xu Chuan had accumulated countless emotional abilities, one night, he suddenly found himself inside someone else’s dream. There, he could use the emotional colors he possessed to paint. And in her dream, he painted her a shower of pink shooting stars, spreading across the depths of the night sky...
m back to his original world. In the end, he realized he had overthought things. [Hey, why is Shen Manni, the female lead, acting strange? Shouldn't she be fawning over the male lead at this point?] [Zhou Qiaoqiao, are you sick? Weren't you supposed to break off your engagement today?] [Damn it! An Youyi, please do your job as an undercover agent and sell my information to the protagonist, you idiot!] ... At this moment, Xu Mo himself didn't know that these female leads had already heard his inner thoughts. Then they decided not to play by the rules. Xu Mo: Please respect my profession as the big villain!
for mindless slaughter, this isn't for you.] My name is Ye Shu, and I'm a transmigrator. It seems I'm supposed to be the protagonist, but that feels pretty unlikely. This world has been invaded by a system. The antagonists on the other side have suddenly become pure, flawless saints. The female leads have been force-fed the so-called "original plot," making them think they've been reborn. Now, everyone thinks I'm scum. Including the old lady in my ring. And here I am, in the Monster Beast Mountain Range, braising pork. To put my situation in perspective— It's as if, the moment Xiao Yan stepped into the Monster Beast Mountain Range, the Soul Emperor already knew he would become the Flame Emperor, and Yao Lao had been turned to the enemy's side. I have nothing right now. Oh wait, that's not true. I do have a white-haired loli child-bride who's the Heavenly Dao, and her only skill is acting cute. So, tell me guys... what are my chances of making it to the end?
