118: Chapter 118 The more you shout for silence, the more I'll speak.

Deep within the earth's veins, the blue flame flickered atop the damp rock wall, stretching Chen Fan's shadow long.

He leaned against the scorching foundation of the array, a metallic sweetness surging up his throat—just now, in order to maintain the Kindling Echo Array, he had nearly squeezed dry the last trace of critical hit energy within his body.

The buzzing in his ears felt like countless fine needles stabbing him; the warning from the critical hit system churned together with fragments of memory: [Warning—'Ultimate Soothing Sound' preload progress 37%].

"Su Shuang..." He unconsciously reached toward his waist, where the bronze coin engraved with the little fox should have been hanging, but now there was only an empty space.

Her face suddenly blurred in his mind, like an old photograph soaked in water: the corner of the qipao stained with blood when she blocked a knife for him, the fox tail hair tie that fell when she brewed tea, the warm breath when she leaned close to his ear while he was gravely injured and whispered, "Don't be afraid, I'm here"... These images faded at a visible speed, leaving only a burning mark on his chest, reminding him that these memories had once truly existed.

"Brother Fan." The blind youth's voice carried the rusty tang of data blood.

Black Crow sat cross-legged in the array's center, his ten fingers flying like butterflies over the bone disc. Every time he tapped, web-like fine cracks spread across the disc's surface. "The residual soul of the Light Speaker has responded."

The blood beads seeping from his blind eyes were not red; they were blue-glowing data streams. "But she is trapped in the 'Mute Cage' of the Voice Control Hub. Only one who 'understands the Original Sound' can awaken her."

Chen Fan suddenly looked up, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.

The critical hit system unexpectedly displayed an active prompt, its fluorescent green text jumping across his retina: [Match Successful—Host is the 'Original Sound Vessel'].

His throat tightened. "Why me?"

"Because you have the Kindling," Black Crow's fingers suddenly paused at the edge of the bone disc. Data streams dripped down his chin to the ground, sizzling and corroding small pits. "And because of your system—it's not just a simple cheat device; it's a hammer that can clash with the rules of the system."

He smiled, a blood bead splashing onto the bone disc. "And even more because... you refuse to shut up."

Before his words faded, a gust of chilling wind suddenly swept across the back of Chen Fan's neck.

As he turned, he saw a gray, misty shadow wrapping itself around the connection point of the broadcast array—that was the shadow pact, an invisible contract spirit specializing in erasing the 'noise' that the system disallowed.

"Little Candle!" Chen Fan had just shouted when the girl with the twin ponytails lunged forward.

The Anti-Contract Rune in her palm glowed with a faint purple light as she pressed it directly onto the blue flame at the array's core.

"I was never registered in the system!" Little Candle gritted her teeth, fine sweat beading on her forehead. "You can't lock down a living person!"

The rune and the blue flame instantly resonated, exploding in a blinding purple light.

The shadow pact shrieked, thrown back three feet, its gray mist churning with distorted characters.

Even more astonishingly, dozens of Echo Corpses suddenly seeped out from the surrounding rock walls—the faint fires in their eye sockets were no longer dim but flickered in rhythm with the blue flame, their throats emitting a synchronized repetition: "Warning—Preload progress 37%... Warning—Preload progress 37%..."

"They're... helping us?" Chen Fan's eyes widened.

These mindless walkers, which once only attacked mechanically, now seemed like lingering regrets awakened by the truth. They staggered toward various nodes of the earth's veins, and with every step they took, the names erased from the rock walls vibrated once, as if beating time for them.

"Those are the 'Remnants of Sound,'" the Broken Pen Official's cough came from the corner.

This semi-digitized record keeper clutched his chest, data blood leaking between his fingers, pooling into a thin stream on the ground. "The system thinks erasing the name erases existence, but sound..."

He tremblingly unfolded a faintly glowing internal structure map of the Starlight Tower. "The Voice Control Hub is in the 'Silent Dome' at the tower's peak, sealed by seven layers of sound locks. To break through it, one must simultaneously inject the 'Reverse Original Sound' into the seven broadcast stations—to put it plainly, make the entire city say 'No' together."

"But the system will use the 'Soothing Sound' to cleanse memories," Black Crow's fingers began tapping the bone disc again, this time with a more urgent rhythm. "Once that sound rings out, everyone will forget what they said, or even why they said it."

Chen Fan's fingers unconsciously rubbed the empty space left by the bronze coin.

The blue flame surged up through his meridians, burning his eyes red.

He remembered the warrior kneeling and weeping in the street, the newcomer staring blankly at a piece of bread in the alley, the patrol team member's smile when he said, "Go home and eat dumplings"—these sounds, judged by the system as 'noise,' were now roaring in his ears, stirring his blood more intensely than any skill.

"Then let's make sure it can't sound," He suddenly stood straight. His legs, previously weak from exhaustion, felt as if filled with lead, yet he stood as firm as a rock. "The system wants to preload the Soothing Sound, right? I'll add some spice to it."

The critical hit system's prompts flashed wildly, but Chen Fan ignored them.

He closed his eyes and injected the last trace of critical hit energy into the earth's veins through the array foundation.

"Pre-translation—keep an eye on it!" He growled.

Blood-red text instantly exploded across his retina: [Lie—True Command: Detonate Earth Vein Conduit].

"Damn it!" Chen Fan cursed, swinging his hand to divert the energy into the branch vein on the left.

A muffled thunder roared from the depths of the earth's veins, and the entire rock stratum collapsed, sending shattered stones raining down.

When the dust settled, three pursuit squads wielding energy guns were buried in the ruins, their weapon parts mixing with data blood, sizzling under the blue flame.

At the top of the Starlight Tower, the red light suddenly dimmed sharply.

The silver-haired woman's phantom image was about to dissipate, but at that moment, it solidified violently.

The bronze coin near her ear was searingly hot, making her eyes sting.

"Little brother..." she whispered softly to the void, her fingertip tracing the small fox engraving on the coin. "You've started rewriting the rules."

Deep in the earth's veins, the blue flame continued to flicker.

Chen Fan wiped the blood and sweat from his face and turned to look at Little Candle—the girl was squatting where the shadow pact had retreated, staring blankly at the charred broadcast line.

A faint hum came from the line's wreckage, like some suppressed sound trying to break out of its cocoon.

"Little Candle?" Chen Fan walked over and looked at the line where she was gazing.

The girl looked up, her eyes shining astonishingly: "Brother Fan, this line... it doesn't seem completely dead yet." She reached out, her fingertip gently touching the scorched wire.

Hum—

A long, drawn-out tremor traveled from the line, like a sleeping giant turning over.

Chen Fan stared at Little Candle's bright eyes and suddenly remembered what Su Shuang had said: "Sound is the sharpest weapon."

Only now did he understand that the so-called 'Original Sound Vessel' was never something for him alone.

Under the moonlight in the ruins of the Thunder Sound Pavilion, the wreckage of the main loudspeaker was still humming.

Little Candle squatted before the charred line, a drop of blood seeping from her fingertip and falling onto the broken end of the wire.

The hum inside the line suddenly rose in pitch, like a long-suppressed shout, slowly spreading along the earth's veins toward the direction of the seven broadcast stations.