114: Chapter 114 I won't register, I'll just write my name.

The scorched smell outside the bell tower suddenly grew stronger. Chen Fan's ear twitched—it wasn't gunpowder smoke, but the ash of something poisoned.

He had just stepped half a pace back to shield Black Crow when a figure clad in a crimson kasaya slipped through a gap in the broken wall. The leader had a buzz cut and a purplish-blue scar on his Adam's apple; it was the Iron Tongue Monk.

"The residual original sound is at the bell tower terminal," the Iron Tongue Monk's hoarse voice scraped like sandpaper over an iron pot. He stuck out his tongue to lick the corner of his lip, and a small lump suddenly bulged in his throat—Chen Fan had seen the 'Blade Hidden Beneath the Tongue' that Su Shuang described. It was a technique used by Incinerating Speech Monks who spent half their lives refining poisoned blades beneath their tongues, specifically designed to destroy the heretical larynx.

"Protect the terminal!" Black Crow suddenly grabbed Chen Fan's wrist. The bloodstains in his blind eyes had not yet faded. "Data replication takes ten seconds. What they want to destroy isn't the machine, it's..."

Before the words were finished, the Iron Tongue Monk's tongue flicked out with a 'pop,' revealing three inches of cold light.

Chen Fan's pupils contracted violently. Just as he was about to lunge, a figure darted out from the side—it was Little Candle.

This girl usually kept the Anti-Contract Rune hidden in her sleeve, but now she held the rune up as a shield, her hair tips dusted with wall ash, her face flushed red by the firelight: "You can't burn it!

People who haven't registered are none of your business!"

Golden patterns surfaced on the rune's surface, resonating with the bone disc in Black Crow's palm.

Chen Fan watched the data stream on the terminal screen suddenly split into seven channels, tunneling into the wall cracks along the earth vein patterns—these were the 'communication channels' Black Crow mentioned, like seven needles piercing the city's blood vessels with the truth.

"The first sound of truth has been sent out," Black Crow suddenly laughed, a hint of color returning to his pale face. "They can't block every ear."

The Iron Tongue Monk's blade froze mid-air, his Adam's apple convulsing violently.

Chen Fan took the opportunity to snatch the broken sword at his feet and was about to charge when he heard a wet sound from behind him.

He turned to see Sound Without Return lying beneath the ruined bell, his ears scorched black like burnt paper, fragments of the Soul-Splitting Flute still embedded in his palm, blood dripping onto the bluestone slabs, spreading into dark red flowers.

"They lied to me..." Sound Without Return's voice was like a leaky, broken bell. "They said collecting souls was to extend the players' lives, that everyone I killed was already dying..." He suddenly raised his hand, pointing the sharp tip of the fragment at his own throat. "From now on... I will no longer listen... nor will I speak."

The blade was already piercing his skin by the time Chen Fan rushed over.

He grabbed Sound Without Return's wrist with one hand and pressed the other onto the man's chest—the blue flame of the Kindling flared up with a 'teng,' burning Sound Without Return into a cry of pain, but it didn't heal the wound in the slightest: "You are not qualified to die." Chen Fan gritted his teeth, the blue flame mixed with blood-red system prompts: "You have to live to see how they collapse."

Sound Without Return's pupils contracted violently. Finally, he lowered his hand, and a bead of blood from his throat rolled down his collarbone.

As Chen Fan carried Black Crow on his back, the system prompt suddenly exploded in his sea of consciousness: "Player [Black Crow] has been deregistered. It is recommended to hand over the remains to reduce culpability."

The heat flow from the critical hit system surged up his spine, and blood-red text burst before his eyes: [Lie—Truth Command: Locate Holder].

Chen Fan stared at the unconscious Black Crow in his arms and pulled out the bronze coin from his pocket—this was the old item Black Crow always said could 'store sound.'

He crouched down and stuffed the bronze coin into the mouth of an Echo Corpse by the roadside.

The corpse suddenly sat upright, its eyeballs glassy white, and repeated the system prompt verbatim: "It is recommended to hand over the remains... otherwise, annihilation."

The Incinerating Speech Monk pursuing at the front halted, raising his flintlock and turning toward the corpse.

Chen Fan took the opportunity to drag Little Candle toward the dark passage. His back ached from Black Crow's weight, but he heard the Iron Tongue Monk roaring behind him: "Chase that corpse!

Alive, I want to see him; dead, I want..."

The latter half was torn apart by the wind.

When Chen Fan rushed into the earth vein rendezvous point, the Broken Pen Official was already waiting there.

The old man always wore a gray robe, his cuffs stained with ink. At this moment, he was bent over, adjusting the data skiff, its hull emitting a faint blue light, like a fish submerged in the deep sea.

"Just in time," the Broken Pen Official said without looking up. "The Starlight Tower's red light is still flashing; the system is locating the original sound channel."

Black Crow stirred on Chen Fan's back and fumbled inside his clothes to pull out a miniature bone disc: "Give this to Su Shuang... it contains the original protocol for the Edict Worm." His fingers brushed the surface of the bone disc, his voice as light as a sigh. "It isn't for sustaining life; it's for extracting the Fox Demon Bloodline to refine 'Soul Fuel.'

If she uses the core again..."

Chen Fan's steps suddenly froze.

Black Crow's words were like an ice pick, stabbing directly into his heart.

The critical hit system in his sea of consciousness suddenly flashed blindingly, the blood-red text almost scorching his retinas: [High-risk lie residue detected. Recommended to destroy all 'Official Cores'].

"Damn it," Chen Fan cursed under his breath, gripping the bone disc until his knuckles turned white.

He looked toward the direction of the Starlight Tower, where the red light was still pulsing, like a bloodshot eye.

Wind whipped scraps of paper against his face, yet he heard himself say: "I won't register, I won't sign my life away, and I won't believe your voices."

The blood-red text of the critical hit system slowly reorganized, finally solidifying into one line: [Target Updated: Destroy the Voice Control Protocol].

Simultaneously, in the control room atop the Starlight Tower, all monitoring screens suddenly went black.

The silver-haired woman rose from the shadows and lightly touched the silver ornament near her ear—it was carved from the feather of some bird, and each quill contained a segment of sound wave.

She looked at her reflection on the black screen, a faint, almost invisible smile curving her lips: "Did you hear it?

The 'Them' have started speaking."

Deep within the earth veins, the data skiff's engine hummed.

Little Candle pressed against the cabin wall, watching the faint blue light stream past the blurred porthole.

Chen Fan settled Black Crow inside the cabin. When he turned, he saw the bone disc faintly glowing in his palm—it contained not only the truth but also Su Shuang's life.

"Hold tight," the Broken Pen Official's voice came from the pilot seat. "The system's hounds are coming after us."

Little Candle touched the Anti-Contract Rune in her embrace, feeling it growing hot.

The ship's speed suddenly increased, the blue light stream turning into bands of light, like a road leading into the darkness.

And deeper within the earth veins, the seven channels of original sound were still silently spreading, like seeds taking root in the city's flesh and blood.