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Chapter 369. White Chrysanthemum

"It's rare that you, a schemer, would want to tell me about Black Pupil Pharmaceuticals."

The Parallel Scholar laughed and began with a sarcastic remark:
"So, it turns out that even a well-behaved dog raised by Black Eye Pharmaceuticals can have something in common with me?"

Xu Huan sensed the strong sarcasm in her words. Normally, he would have retorted, but now, illness had robbed him of most of his strength, so he simply smiled faintly and said:
"Your Excellency has your own painful past, and I have my own regrets and remorse. We are talking privately, not scheming, so why hurt each other?"

The Parallel Scholar didn't speak again, but looked at him, signaling him to get to the point.

“I will recommend you to the Crown Prince. After my death, you will likely become the new chief strategist of the strategist department.”

Xu Huan immediately delivered a bombshell announcement.

Chi Xia was slightly taken aback, then asked suspiciously:

"What does this schemer mean?"

Xu Huan did not explain the reason, because he knew that when talking to smart people, revealing his true past as a reason would not dispel their doubts, and he would not even gain their sympathy.

To gain the trust of a senior strategist of equal standing, all you need to do is analyze the benefits for her.

Therefore, Xu Huan stared into her deep eyes and slowly said:

"Whatever my intention, taking over this arrangement with my alternate personality is not a loss for you, Parallelist, and you might even gain something—isn't that right?"

A glint flashed in Chi Xia's eyes, and she burst into laughter, clapping her hands as she said:

"Your Excellency the Schemer is quite straightforward; I enjoy talking to intelligent people like you."

"If it is as generous as you say, I am happy to accept your gift, sir, the schemer."

Xu Huan also smiled. This was the first genuine smile he had ever seen, because he knew that from this moment on, the plan to destroy Black Pupil Pharmaceuticals had been fully implemented.

In the first phase, he advised Lin Xin'an to take the lead and push for the final three-way battle to destroy the mechanics that Black Pupil Pharmaceuticals relied on.

As for how to expel the victorious god in the battle of the three gods, he had no idea, but he knew that the prophet would definitely have a way.

Standing on the same side as your arch-enemy for the first time, you can just go ahead and do whatever you want when things go wrong. It's not bad to have a backup plan in case things go wrong.

In the second phase, the Mechanic and the Hundred-Eyed Demon were both seriously injured, and the Crown Prince and the Blind Master were both eliminated. The Second Mental Hospital lost its high-end combat power. He had instructed his subordinates in advance to destroy the prison system, allowing the fools imprisoned in the prison to escape as soon as possible, destroy the infrastructure, and thus the entire Second Mental Hospital fell.

Without this connecting point, the First Hospital in the North and the Third Hospital in the South are too far apart to communicate, so Black Pupil Pharmaceutical can only keep one of them, thus achieving the goal of eliminating both hospitals in one step.

The third strategy involves elevating another rival's alternate personality to power, dismantling the last remaining Third Mental Hospital, and preventing the strategist department from having a wealth of talent, allowing a peerless genius to emerge and revive Black Pupil Pharmaceuticals.

By placing power in the hands of a cunning and malicious adversary, Black Eye Pharmaceuticals could be completely destroyed.

As for why he trusted the Parallel Family so much... he knew how powerful this person was; she was basically a dimensional reduction attack on the other strategists at Black Pupil Pharmaceuticals.

These three rounds, interlocking and seamless, from Feng Shiman's destruction of Haidu's base to the complete conclusion of the three-part scheme, have allowed Xu Huan to truly destroy Black Pupil Pharmaceuticals and complete his revenge plan.

His only regret now is that he is suppressed by precognition, always appearing as a loser and unable to leave his mark on history.

But that's okay.

In fact, he had already devised a new way to fulfill his wish of leaving his mark—that is, to donate his liquid assets to the geography community. Because of his interest in mountains and rivers, Xu Huan had investigated the current situation of those working in the geography industry who photographed these landscapes and clearly understood what they needed most right now.

There are no gifts in the world without a reason, unless there is a mutual benefit.

Xu Huan donated his assets to support the development of the geography industry in order to leave his mark on the history of the discipline.

Although no names are recorded in the official history of five thousand years, it would be nice to have a memorial plaque in the Geography Museum that belongs to him.

With all his wishes fulfilled, Xu Huan felt that his short life wasn't so tragic after all.

He glanced out the window, then suddenly said:
"...Speaking of which, is Your Excellency the Parallelist still sticking to your original conclusion and intending to fight Your Excellency the Prophet to the bitter end?"

Chi Xia frowned slightly and asked:

"Who do you mean, Your Excellency the Schemer?"

"At the end of time, the gods will descend. Humans cannot defeat the gods. We should accept the gods' participation in life... and uphold justice and rules. Humans can also contend with the gods."

Xu Huan turned her head and summarized:
"If I'm not mistaken, this is the biggest point of contention between the Parallelists and the Predictors."

The Parallel Scholar smiled slightly:
"The descent of the gods was an inevitable trend, and stubborn resistance would be fruitless. I was just trying to find a better way out for the world—to merge with the gods and have a social structure like the world next door where the gods descended. Aren't we living quite well there?"

Because of this idea, she initially supported the Dream Pavilion, hoping that the God of Nothingness would rule the continent. However, she did not expect that the Hundred-Eyed Demon and the Mechanic would infiltrate the continent even more deeply.

During that period, the main personality's mental state was very poor, with multiple mental complications recurring and the ability to manipulate the market declining sharply. Therefore, after Wen Yu was controlled, and considering that the situation in the parallel family was dominated by three gods, he decided to temporarily retire and recuperate first.

Now that the main personality's mental illness has finally been treated, it's time for her to re-enter the game.

“I understand what you mean, but I still support the Foresight Master more.”

Xu Huan said noncommittally.

"However, I probably won't live to see the end of the era you're talking about."

He smiled with relief:

"Let me sleep in history along with this dark age."

After that chat ended, Chi Xia never saw Xu Huan again.

The next time I heard news of him was several days later when his obituary was announced.

He was buried in the hill behind the Third Mental Hospital—at Black Pupil Pharmaceuticals, he had his own burial plot. Not being thrown into the blood pool was already a dignified way to die.

On the day of the funeral, Chi Xia stood among the pine and cypress trees halfway up the mountain, gazing through the misty haze at the solitary mound of earth. The only decoration on the grave was a lemon-flavored cake with rain-soaked edges, seemingly placed there secretly by his subordinates.

The strategist, renowned in life, didn't even have a proper white chrysanthemum placed at his grave after his death.

Parallelologist thought again: a man like him who didn't even have a friend, who would remember him except the geographical community he forcibly associated with?

Therefore, the gaze of the Parallelists was like a thin mist skimming over the mountain rocks, lingering briefly on the tombstone with the indistinct name engraved on it, before drifting away into the distance with the mountain wind.

Only the withered grass rustled around the grave, like a heavy sigh.