That ethereal voice was like a clear spring, instantly soothing Fang Fan's agitated emotions.
Fang Fan felt his consciousness grow heavy, unable to summon even a single extra thought.
In his dazed state, he seemed to see a little girl with pigtails smiling at him.
In an instant, fragmented memories pieced themselves together.
The first choice—the girl with pigtails was her!
The second choice—the silently weeping little girl was also her!
The final choice—the pitiful little beggar was still her!
She had blurred his perception. No matter what he chose, it would be wrong—unless he chose her!
Wrong was right, and right was wrong!
Fang Fan understood. He had figured it all out!
The moment this realization struck him, his lost arms returned, and his severed head reattached itself!
All his dulled senses sharpened once more, and Fang Fan felt the solid ground beneath his feet.
Slowly opening his eyes, he found himself no longer within the Abyssal Scales of Judgment but in a space suffused with chaotic energy.
Glancing around, he stood on a massive platform suspended amidst vast, swirling currents of primordial chaos.
The platform was perfectly circular, its material neither metal nor jade, its surface covered in profound Chaos Runes that exuded an aura weathered by time.
As Fang Fan consciously observed them, the Chaos Runes suddenly came alive, shifting between light and shadow, their elusive Dao Rhyme spreading like the revelation of the universe's birth and the division of chaos!
Not far away stood a familiar guide stele.
Inscribed upon it were the words—"Platform of True Heart."
Beside the stele, a small figure floated playfully.
A white dress, red shoes, and pigtails... Though her attire was entirely different, Fang Fan was certain—this was the little girl he had encountered in his choices!
"Hehe, big brother, welcome to the sixth trial. Are you ready for the final challenge?" the girl giggled as she looked at him.
Fang Fan fell silent for a moment before asking quietly, "I'm curious—what would have happened if I hadn’t chosen any option involving you?"
The girl tilted her head. "That would’ve been cruel. Your points would’ve been deducted entirely, and the Abyssal Scales of Judgment would’ve purified you completely."
Fang Fan's lips twitched. "So, no matter what I chose, I would’ve been punished with point deductions?"
The girl nodded. "The essence of the Abyssal Scales of Judgment is fairness. Every choice you make manifests in reality, and the consequences are yours to bear."
Fang Fan pressed further, "Are the choices the same for every challenger?"
The girl shook her head. "The options differ, but their nature remains the same. Alright, alright, I’ve answered enough questions. Are you going to take on this final trial or not?"
Hesitating briefly, Fang Fan asked, "Just one last question, if I may?"
But the girl cut him off. "If it’s about the secrets of this realm, forget it. You’ll know everything once you clear the trial!"
Hearing this, Fang Fan hesitated no longer. Taking a deep breath, the chaotic Dao Rhyme suffusing the space invigorated his spirit, yet he also sensed an unprecedented weight pressing upon him.
His gaze swept across the empty platform before he strode to the guide stele and left behind another encrypted document—proof of his arrival.
With that done, he stepped resolutely past the stele and marched forward!
Hum!
The moment his foot landed, the surroundings shifted.
He now stood in a space entirely lined with mirrors.
Countless reflections of Fang Fan surrounded him, stretching endlessly in every direction.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
The mirrors trembled as nine figures stepped out from them!
Tattered silver-trimmed azure immortal robes, a lean frame, a youthful yet calm face, the same Dao Rhyme swirling around them, and the habitual flicker of sharp sword light at their fingertips—every detail was identical to the Fang Fan standing at the center!
The nine mirror clones perfectly replicated the original—aura, cultivation, attire, demeanor, even the faint trace of caution in their eyes!
"Fighting myself? That’s it?"
Fang Fan smirked.
To put it bluntly, he was no stranger to this kind of challenge—far from it!
Why?
Because in the Violet Star Immortal Realm, there was a trial site called the "Dream Mirage," refined by the Calamity-Suppressing Venerable. It was... fun.
After his duties, he loved training there—addictive, thrilling, and endlessly entertaining!
The Dream Mirage’s beginner difficulty involved fighting a single Nightmare Spirit that could mimic the challenger. The intermediate difficulty? Ten of yourself. The advanced difficulty? Ten of yourself, but enhanced by the Dream Mirage’s vast combat database. The hellish difficulty?
...Fighting the Calamity-Suppressing Venerable himself!
Though restricted to the same cultivation realm, his power wasn’t too exaggerated—except for that halberd strike of his. To this day, no one had survived a single hit!
It was downright unfair. At the same realm, he could unleash attacks ten times stronger than normal—how was anyone supposed to compete?
Fighting yourself was about patching weaknesses and uncovering flaws. Fighting the Calamity-Suppressing Venerable? That was pure masochism.
But none of that mattered now. What did matter was that Fang Fan was experienced at fighting himself.
After all, the hardest opponent for any cultivator wasn’t an enemy—it was the self, who knew every move and thought.
Only by defeating yourself could you earn a seat at the monstrous table of the Violet Star Immortal Realm.
Defeat ten of yourself? Then you’d earn some praise, and no one would dare object when you turned the table.
Defeat ten of yourself enhanced by a combat database? Then you’d sit at the head of the Violet Star’s monstrous table, and others would lean in to catch your every word.
Defeat the Calamity-Suppressing Venerable?
...You’d receive a personal audience and a jade token of honor, granting you the right to strut through the Violet Star like a tyrant!
Fang Fan, unfortunately, had only barely cleared the intermediate difficulty—just enough to earn the right to turn the table.
Surveying the nine mirror clones, Fang Fan grinned smugly. "Only nine? Bring out one more. I’ll take on te—"
Before he could finish—
BAM!
One of the clones flickered forward and punched Fang Fan straight into the fluid-like mirrored ceiling, embedding him so deeply he couldn’t even pry himself free!
"Wait, hold on—since when was I this strong?! This isn’t like the Dream Mirage at all!"
Fang Fan stared blankly at the nine clones standing ominously below, his scalp tingling with dread.
This was bad. The mirror selves on the Platform of True Heart were far deadlier than the Dream Mirage’s Nightmare Spirits!
Compared to the intermediate difficulty of the Dream Mirage, these clones... lacked the combat database’s techniques, but their raw stats were overwhelmingly superior. How was he supposed to win now?!
......
Author’s Note: Writing while sick, but still pushing through without breaks—my gaze is as unyielding as stone, my heart set on perseverance!
Sadly, no perfect attendance bonus this month... Could I trouble you for a small gift to soothe my ailing body and wounded soul?
Cheng's father told him he was getting remarried—to a wealthy woman. Cao Cheng realized his time had finally come: he was about to become a second-generation rich kid. Sure, it might be a watered-down version, but hey, at least he'd have status now, right? The wealthy woman also had four daughters!! Which meant, starting today, Cao Cheng gained four stunning older sisters?? But that wasn't even the whole story... "My name is Cao Cheng—'Cheng' as in 'honest, smooth-talking gentleman'!"
grated, and just when he finally managed to get into an elite academy, he discovered that he actually had a system, and the way to earn rewards was extremely ridiculous. So for the sake of rewards, he had no choice but to start acting ridiculous as well. Su Cheng: "It's nothing but system quests after all." But later, what confused Su Cheng was that while he was already quite ridiculous, he never expected those serious characters to gradually become ridiculous too. And the way they looked at him became increasingly strange... (This synopsis doesn't do it justice, please read the full story)
iemie, male, Race: Moon. Hobby: Collecting anomalies. At first, he thought he possessed two systems: the Crimson Rainbow Moon and the Clear Cold Frost Moon. One day, he discovered that he himself could also become a system for others, holding the chessboard of fate. The Eighth Epoch, also known as the Eternal Moon Epoch. Humans, witches, elves, bloodline descendants, specters, demons, and spirits together compose a new history. Walking the path on behalf of the moon, before he knew it, Chen Miemie's footsteps were followed by all manner of strange and wondrous anomalies. As time passed, many titles circulated about him—The King in Yellow, Lord of Anomalies, Heart of the Eternal Moon, and more. "Me? I'm just a traveler who enjoys collecting interesting creatures," Chen Miemie said.
with countless casualties. As a top-tier gamer, Liu Xuan volunteered to join the fight, intending to dominate with his skills, but instead he obtained the hidden class: [Pacifist]. Unable to attack. Unable to use active skills. Fortunately, with each level gained, he acquired a new passive skill. And so, armed with a body full of passives, Liu Xuan slaughtered his way through the battlefield of ten thousand races! [You attacked Liu Xuan] [You gained the debuffs: 'Poison', 'Fear', 'Burning', 'Bleeding', 'Freeze', 'Silence', etc.] [Your attack speed has been reduced by 99%] [Your armor and magic resistance have been reduced by 99%] Warriors of the Ten Thousand Races: How the hell am I supposed to fight this?!
