274: Chapter 274 The Bell of Resurrection Rings! 3.1 Billion Dead Demand the Murderer

Three seconds after the approval was granted, a blood-red warning popped up on Lin Chen's system backend:

[Warning: The large-scale resurrection procedure will consume a massive amount of Narrative Layer computing power]

[Estimated Usage: 87% of real-time computing resources across the entire Narrative Layer]

[Possible Consequences:]

[1. Update speed for all serialized stories will decrease by 70%]

[2. Some low-priority worlds will enter a semi-dormant state]

[3. Latency in the financial trading system will increase to 3000 milliseconds]

[Continue?]

Without any hesitation, Lin Chen clicked [Continue].

Instantly, the entire sky of the Narrative Layer turned golden.

It wasn't sunlight, but data streams—massive, visible golden data streams drawn from every corner of the Narrative Layer, converging above the Oblivion Graveyard to form a giant vortex thirty thousand kilometers in diameter.

At the center of the vortex was the [Eden Civilization Resurrection Archive] that Lin Chen had just submitted.

The archive's cover slowly opened amidst the golden light.

Page One: Civilization Overview.

Page Two: Geographical Environment.

Page Three: Technological Level.

Page Four: Artistic Achievements.

Page Five: Death Records.

When this page was flipped open, every living being watching the live stream saw the same scene—

Three million epochs ago, the final moments of the Eden Civilization.

The sky cracked open, but it wasn't a Zeroing Storm; it was a pen.

The tip of the pen descended, writing a line of text in the void:

[The exploration of the Eden Civilization ends here. Readers don't like farming novels, so I'm axing it to start a new project.]

The moment the words took shape, the existence of the Eden Civilization's 3.17 billion people was forcibly terminated.

It wasn't death.

It was deletion.

Just like deleting a folder—click once, drag to the recycle bin, and empty.

There was no pain, no struggle, and not even any last words—because they had no idea what was happening.

The scrolling speed of the comment section suddenly slowed down.

It wasn't that no one was speaking; it was that everyone was in silence.

Then, a single bullet comment slowly drifted across:

"So... the books we follow every day, the Authors just axe them whenever they want... those characters..."

The comment wasn't finished.

But everyone understood.

Standing beneath the golden vortex, Lin Chen's voice spread throughout the Narrative Layer via the live stream:

"I know what you're thinking."

"We are characters too. Every day, we worry if our Authors will drop the story, axe the book, or if we'll wake up one day to find ourselves deleted."

"But now, I'm going to prove one thing—"

He raised the Epoch Guide Key in his hand:

"Characters can resist."

"The dead can be resurrected."

"Deleted files can be restored from the recycle bin as long as someone remembers them."

He forcefully inserted the key into an interface in the void.

Hum—

The golden vortex began to spin clockwise, faster and faster.

At the center of the vortex, a point of light was born.

The point of light expanded, turning into a pillar of light.

The pillar of light hit the ground and transformed into a person.

The first person.

He wore the distinctive pale blue robes of the Eden Civilization, his skin a healthy bronze, his eyes filled with the daze of someone who had just woken up. He looked down at his hands, repeatedly clenching and unclenching his fists.

"...I... have a body?"

A second person, a third, the ten-thousandth, the hundred-millionth...

Golden pillars of light fell like rain, continuously landing on the grey desert of the Oblivion Graveyard.

For the first time in three million epochs, there was life here.

All 3.17 billion Eden people were resurrected.

But they didn't cheer, they didn't cry, and they didn't even talk.

Everyone was doing the same thing—

Looking up at the sky.

Looking at the sky that had once written their death sentence.

"Excuse me..."

The first Eden person to wake up, a middle-aged man who looked like a scholar, walked toward Lin Chen. His voice was very soft, as if afraid of disturbing something:

"How... did we die?"

Lin Chen was silent for three seconds.

"You were forgotten," he said. "A creator axed you because the readers didn't like the story."

The scholar nodded, asking no further questions.

He simply said softly, "I see."

Then he asked, "Then why are we alive now?"

"Because I bought your copyrights." Lin Chen pulled up an electronic contract. "I purchased the full ownership of the Eden Civilization from that creator. Now, you are employees of the 'Resurrection Civilization Department' under the Underworld Group. You have five insurances and one fund, paid annual leave, and career advancement paths."

He paused. "The wages... might not be very high at first because the Civilization Resurrection Bonds need to pay off interest. But food and housing are provided, and you won't be allowed to die again."

The scholar was stunned for a long time.

Then he smiled.

"Boss," he asked, "is there meat in the canteen?"

Among the 3.17 billion Eden people, the first burst of laughter erupted.

It wasn't a happy laugh, but the kind of bitter laugh of someone who, after dying once, feels that being able to eat meat is true happiness.

But a laugh was a laugh.

The comment section flooded again, this time with:

"I'm crying!"

"There's meat in the canteen! We readers will donate!"

"I'll top up a thousand to give the Eden people extra chicken legs!"

However, in this tender moment—

Lin Chen's personal terminal received another encrypted message.

Sender: Original Author.

The content was only two words:

"I'm sorry."

Lin Chen stared at those words for ten seconds.

Then he replied:

"Apologies are useless."

"What would be useful?"

"Use your creative rights to pay off the debt."

He pulled up a newly drafted contract:

[Original Author Labor Contract]

Party A: Underworld Group (Representative: Lin Chen)

Party B: Original Author (ID: ████)

Contract Term: Permanent

Position: Exclusive Writer for the Eden Civilization

Job Description: Write no less than 30,000 words of 'Daily Life Side Stories' for the Eden Civilization every week. Dropping the story, missing updates, or a rushed ending is prohibited.

Salary: 0 dimension points (To be used as compensation for the mental distress of murdering 3.17 billion people)

Additional Clause: If Party B drops a story again, Party A has the right to permanently imprison Party B in the 'Dropped-Story Penance Prison' until a satisfactory ending is written.

Sent.

Three seconds later, the Original Author replied:

"Signed."

The contract took effect.

Looking at the contract, a slight curve finally appeared at the corner of Lin Chen's mouth.

He said to Golden Glazed, "Tell the Eden people that they have an exclusive writer to write daily stories for them from now on. Although this writer's skill is mediocre and they've dropped stories before, at least—"

He didn't finish his sentence.

The golden vortex suddenly vibrated.

It wasn't a problem with the resurrection program; something deep within the vortex was responding.

It was a stream of consciousness older, weaker, and yet more vast than the Eden Civilization.

It rose from the deepest part of the Oblivion Graveyard like a deep-sea behemoth surfacing.

Everyone saw the words emerging from that stream of consciousness:

[We are... the first batch of deleted civilizations...]

[Twenty million epochs... before Eden...]

[We are called... 'The Nameless'...]

[No archives were left behind...]

[But... we remember... that we existed...]

The words dissipated.

Deep within the vortex, countless points of light began to float upward.

More than 3.17 billion.

More than 31.7 billion.

317 billion? 3.17 trillion?

Uncountable.

Those points of light were too ancient, so ancient that Lin Chen's resurrection program couldn't even recognize their encoding format.

But they did exist.

Beneath the Eden Civilization.

Over the past three million epochs, the Narrative Layer had accumulated exactly one hundred and twenty-seven layers of ruins from deleted civilizations.

Eden was only the shallowest layer.

Looking at that bottomless ocean of light points, Lin Chen finally understood—

The 120 million Spark Archives left to him by No. 117 were just the tip of the iceberg.

True 'oblivion' is the blankness where not even an archive remains.

He pulled up the financial backend and recalculated the resurrection costs.

But this time, the system directly popped up an error message:

[Target Civilization Count: Unknown (At least 127 layers)]

[Estimated Resurrection Cost: Infinite]

[Feasibility: Extremely Low]

Lin Chen stared at the word "Infinite."

Then he laughed.

"Infinite," he said, "then we'll do infinite installments."

He opened a new document and began drafting:

[Narrative Layer · Universal Civilization Resurrection Plan]

[Phase One: Eden Civilization (3.17 billion people completed)]

[Phase Two to Phase One Hundred and Twenty-Seven: All deleted civilizations (Population to be determined)]

[Financing Plan: Issue 'Cross-Epoch Infinite Bonds']

[Repayment Period: Ten million years]

[Interest Rate: 0.01% (Symbolic)]

[Note: This bond will never repay the principal, only interest—interest is paid in 'being remembered']

He finished the last line and clicked [Save].

Then, he said to the bottomless ocean of light points:

"Wait for me."

"I will pull you up, layer by layer."

"Even if it takes ten million years."

The ocean of light points did not respond.

But they did not sink back down.