190: Endless Corridor, Hunter and Prey

The moment his consciousness returned, Lin Mo was already running.

There was no time to think, no room to breathe. His body's instincts, far quicker than his brain's reactions, drove his already exhausted legs to frantically navigate through endless alleys composed of decaying concrete and rusting steel.

This was a dead city. Skyscrapers, towering into the clouds, resembled skeletal remains stripped of flesh and blood, their hollow windows like vacant eye sockets, silently observing this small and futile escapee. The sky was an eternal, oppressive lead-gray, devoid of sun or stars, only an impenetrable despair, so thick it seemed ready to drip down at any moment.

He was avoiding a "thing."

Lin Mo didn't know what it was. He only remembered that when he awoke from a briefcoma, the first thing he saw was that figure standing at the street corner, quietly watching him.

It was a creature beyond description. It had a roughly humanoid outline, but its body surface was covered in a dark substance, like liquid metal, constantly flowing and shifting. It had no facial features, only an absolutely smooth, mirror-like face that reflected Lin Mo's own dust-streaked, terrified face.

The moment he saw it, a primal, overwhelming alarm blared deep within Lin Mo's soul—Run!

And so, this chase, without a beginning and seemingly without an end, began.

His proud physical endurance was rapidly depleted in this marathon-like escape. His lungs felt like they were stuffed with burning charcoal, each breath bringing a scorching pain. The muscles in his legs were already aching to their limit, every step like treading on knife edges.

He had tried to fight back.

Passing an abandoned police station, he found a well-maintained police pistol and two full magazines. These were tools he was familiar with, tools that gave him a sense of security. He hid behind crumbling walls, holding his breath, his heart pounding in his chest like an engine about to overload.

The moment the "hunter" unhurriedly rounded the corner, Lin Mo moved.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Crisp gunshots echoed through the silent city, painfully jarring his eardrums. Three bullets, fired with his most precise marksmanship, whizzed in a triangular pattern towards the "hunter's" head.

However, what happened next sent a chill down his spine.

The bullets abruptly slowed down just before contacting the smooth, mirror-like surface, as if sinking into thick mud. Then, they simply hovered there in mid-air, their tips less than a centimeter from the surface.

The "hunter" seemed to "look" at the three bullets frozen in time and space. Then, it raised its arm. The liquid metal of its arm writhed, and it actually "grew" an identical pistol, made of dark matter, emanating an ominous aura.

It aimed the gun at Lin Mo.

It gave him no time to react.

Lin Mo felt an irresistible force crash into his shoulder, sending him flying backward to slam hard against the wall behind him. The intense pain made his vision go black, almost causing him to faint. He looked down to see a gaping, front-to-back bloody hole in his shoulder, warm blood gushing out.

It… learned.

A thought that sent shivers down Lin Mo's spine exploded in his mind.

This monster was learning his actions, replicating his weapons, and hunting him in his own way.

He threw away the now meaningless gun in his hand, endured the severe pain, and began his desperate escape once more.

He no longer trusted any tools, instead relying on his most fundamental survival instincts. He used the complex terrain, weaving through the labyrinthine buildings, trying to shake off his pursuer with the most intricate routes. He climbed shaky fire escapes, leaped between rooftops dozens of stories high, every movement teetering on the edge of Life and death.

He was like a cornered beast, employing every bit of cunning and wit.

But no matter what he did, the "hunter" remained behind him. Not too far, not too close, maintaining a distance that allowed him to see it but never escape it. It seemed not to be in a hurry to kill him, but rather like a cold, extremely patient animal trainer, enjoying the prey's desperate, exhaustive performance.

It even… started to become "smarter."

When Lin Mo tried to use a shaky billboard as a trap, the "hunter" merely stopped a hundred meters away, quietly "watching" him. Reflected on its smooth face was Lin Mo's own sweat-soaked, smug face, as if it were mocking his naivety.

When Lin Mo hid in a complex underground pipe system, thinking he could use the darkness and narrow environment to escape the pursuit, it wasn't long before he heard the same unhurried footsteps coming from all directions in the pipes.

It had split.

It transformed a part of itself into countless smaller entities, blocking all his escape routes.

At that moment, Lin Mo's heart sank completely.

Physical endurance, weapons, intelligence… everything he relied on for survival became a joke in front of this monster. Its strength, speed, and wisdom evolved and ascended at an illogical pace during the chase, always a step ahead of him.

This wasn't a hunt.

This was a lesson. A course on how to "despair," led by the "hunter."

The loss of physical strength, the increasingly severe pain in his shoulder, and the ever-tightening string of his spirit caused Lin Mo's consciousness to blur. Fatigue and blood loss brought persistent black spots before his eyes.

Just as he was about to give up, he heard a voice.

"Brother Mo… you can't escape…"

A familiar, soft voice, abruptly echoed in the empty alley.

Lin Mo's body stiffened, and he looked back in disbelief.

No one was there.

"We… will be together… forever…"

This time, it was another voice, cold and carrying an indescribable, eerie playfulness.

It was Nianqiu and Zhi Xia's voices!

No!

Lin Mo's pupils suddenly contracted, and he frantically shook his head, trying to banish the auditory hallucination from his mind.

But the voice, like a maggot in his bones, began to resonate directly in the depths of his soul, growing clearer and more real.

He abruptly looked up, staring at the "hunter" standing at the end of the alley.

Its body was undergoing new changes. Its liquid-metal-like surface began to recede, revealing not a mirror-like face, but… two faces he was intimately familiar with, yet which now sent shivers down his spine.

One was Gu Nianqiu's innocent, sweetly smiling face.

The other was Gu Zhixia's cold and stunning face, her eyes filled with scorn.

The two faces, twisted together on the monster's head in an extremely distorted manner, spoke in unison, with their voices, cold and cruel words.

"Give up, Brother Mo."

"And… merge with us."

With a thud, Lin Mo fell to his knees.

What crushed him was not physical exhaustion, nor an unbeatable enemy. It was this final straw. This most deadly blade, forged from the deepest parts of his heart, from the very things he most wanted to protect.

He lost.

He lost completely.

He gasped for breath, sweat and blood mingling, dripping down his cheeks onto the dirty ground. He looked at the "final creation," composed of his deepest fears and most cherished bonds, slowly approaching him. The last light in his eyes gradually dimmed.

Is this… how it ends… I'm sorry… Zhi Xia… Nianqiu… I… couldn't protect you… He slowly closed his eyes, abandoning all resistance, waiting for that final, liberating death to arrive.

However, just as the monster's hand was about to touch his forehead.

A scene flashed through Lin Mo's mind, without warning.

It was on the Bridge of the Natural Selection. Gu Nianqiu handed him a steaming roasted sweet potato, saying earnestly, "This is my new invention, the 'Bullseye Roasted Sweet Potato'! If you eat it, you'll be super accurate at hitting bad guys!"

That taste… it was sweet, and warm.

It was… the taste of home.

It was real, it was warm, it was the true reality worth protecting with his Life.

And not this cold, false lie woven from his fears and weaknesses!

His closed eyes snapped open!

A faint glimmer reignited in those eyes, which had almost been drowned in despair. The light was weak, yet exceptionally firm, like the first star appearing in an endless night.

No.

None of this is right.

My physical endurance is the result of countless genetic optimizations on an SSS-class battleship; it's impossible for it to be depleted so quickly.

My mind is deeply linked with the "World Tree" system, like a super biological computer; it's impossible for it to be so easily swayed by auditory hallucinations.

My two companions, one a god-slaying valkyrie, the other a Master Chef who can create miracles with cooking. Their wills are tougher than any divine metal; they would never become this twisted form.

So… it's not my body that's the problem, nor my mind.

It's the rules of this "world" that are the problem!

I've been fighting, running, and thinking using this world's rules… so I can never win.

Because I'm just a "player," and the opponent is the "game administrator."

To win, I cannot abide by its rules.

The only way to break the deadlock… is to overturn the entire chessboard!

Having realized this, Lin Mo's face actually showed a smile. In that smile, there was no fear, no despair, only a cold calm, almost bordering on madness.

He no longer paid attention to the wound on his shoulder, nor the fatigue in his body.

He slowly stood up from the ground.

He no longer ran, nor did he try to attack.

He simply walked, step by step, calmly towards the monster composed of "Gu Zhixia" and "Gu Nianqiu."

His steps were slow, but each one was exceptionally steady, as if he were not walking towards death, but towards the road home.

"Come on."

He looked at the monster, using his last bit of strength, and spoke calmly.

"If you think this is enough to defeat me, then let me see what other tricks you have in your 'collection.'"

"Either kill me completely here."

"Or…"

The corner of his mouth curved into an arc of endless mockery.

"Just wait for me to burn your 'collection,' along with your pathetic throne, to ashes."

The moment his words fell, the monster's hand, reaching out to him, stopped in mid-air.

On those two twisted, pieced-together faces, for the first time, an expression akin to "astonishment" appeared.