Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 195 A Hymn for You, A Hammer for the Dead

"You fight for survival, she smiles for her faith."

"Death is not the end of fate, but the prelude to the unbelievers."

"Second squad, prepare for the challenge."

The card's voice remained cold, like the tolling of a bell before a fall, striking a subtle echo in everyone's nerve endings.

The area where Vera's team was located was slowly sealed off by a dark blue barrier.

That transparent yet insurmountable energy wall separated them from the rest of the room.
It was as if time and space had been severed, cutting off all escape routes.

The card hovered high above, casting a pale golden halo, like the single eye of death, silently watching this life-or-death trial that was about to unfold.

"Please specify the order of deployment."

As the system announcement ended, almost everyone's eyes turned to Vera at the same time.

Even Mu Sisi and Fujimiya Sumi, who had just felt a glimmer of hope because of her prayers,
At this moment, I subconsciously thought that Vera would carefully weigh the options: Who has the better physical fitness? Who has the more stable mental fortitude? Who is more suitable to be the final act as a backup?

But Vera merely tilted her head slightly, as if casually flipping through a worn prayer book, her expression gentle and her tone calm:
"Rudolf first."

"Then Fujimiya."

"Mu Sisi is third."

"I'm the last one."

She spoke in a tone as gentle as if she were arranging the choir order for a church outing.

Rudolf paused slightly, frowned, and spoke with obvious displeasure and hesitation:
"Are you sure you want me to go first? I... am not good at this kind of 'game'."

Vera didn't explain much, only giving him a quiet smile, her eyes like the afternoon light streaming through the stained-glass windows of a cathedral:

"Don't worry, you won't die."

This seemingly casual response, however, stood like a steadfast lighthouse mast planted in the eye of the storm.

Looking at her calm expression as always, Rudolf finally muttered a curse under his breath and stepped forward through gritted teeth.

The next second, the giant creature that had been sleeping in the darkness opened its eyes.

Minos—the legendary guardian of judgment, hovering on the border between life and death—slowly stepped out from the torn rift in space.

The giant hoof crushed the ground, cracks spreading like a spider web, as if the entire space was groaning softly.

It is about three meters tall, with arms as long as a beam, muscles like molten iron blocks, and bluish-purple veins that resemble venomous snakes clinging to its body, pulsating slightly with each breath.

Its head resembled that of a bull, but was covered with crisscrossing cracks; those deep red furrows seemed ready to burst open at any moment, spewing blood and mad words.

Its eyes—those empty, merciless, pitch-black pupils—burned with a morbid, scarlet flame, unlike anything alive, more like some ancient evil god using the souls of its victims as fuel for its fire.

He lifted the rusty hammer with one hand.

The hammerhead, though broken, remained heavy, embedded with fragments of skull and bone nails stained with pus.

The bone nails seemed to still be dripping blood, mixed with black grease, sliding off the hammer handle with a sticky "plop...plop" sound.
It's like a death drumbeat that sounds in advance of the impending "smashing".

"Bet against me, three rounds of rock-paper-scissors, lose twice and you'll be punished."

Its opening sound was like metal rubbing against cement, hoarse and grating, each syllable seemingly carrying the pain of being squeezed to the bone marrow.

The moment Rudolf stepped onto the gambling platform, his back was already soaked with cold sweat.

He is not a coward.

He's an engineer, accustomed to logic, and a believer in reason. But in this space—logic is meaningless.

He subconsciously began to analyze: the minotaur was about three meters tall, with arms over one meter long, its weapons were estimated to weigh over eighty kilograms, and a single strike would generate nearly 1,500 joules of kinetic energy—

It's powerful enough to shatter alloy plates and punch through car doors, let alone a human skull.

Every breath is a perception of the intensity of death;

Every step closer is a step towards a predetermined endpoint.

He could almost hear his own heartbeat, trembling like a drum in his chest.

Vera, behind him, watched him silently.

They offered neither help nor words of comfort.

She simply clasped her hands together and prayed softly, as if each recitation was not for the gods, but to crown Rudolf's courage.

This is not a gamble.

Rather, it was a ritual of bargaining with death.

"First round - Rock, opponent plays Paper."

Rudolf lost.

"Second round - Scissors, opponent's rock."

He lost again.

Two defeats are a death sentence.

My throat felt tight, my fingertips were icy cold, and it felt as if the blood in my veins had stopped flowing.

He stood there mechanically, and goosebumps began to rise on his skin.

Consciousness has not yet collapsed, but reason is being devoured by an almost animalistic fear.

He knows what this means.

He used to be an engineer, researching safety cushioning and impact force dispersion, and was used to seeing death data in simulated car accidents.

Steel being crushed, skeletons twisted, cockpits collapsing... the cold, hard images that had been replayed countless times in computer simulators seemed to be rewinding frame by frame in his mind.

Now, he will personally experience the deaths that were repeatedly portrayed on his screen "in the name of others".

He trembled, and scenes from his life flashed through his mind: his wife's soft coughs while cooking, his daughter's babbling before bed, and the resignation letter he had never had time to hand in in his drawer.

There's also an unfinished automation course paper; the title on page nineteen is still blank.

He doesn't want to die.

But when it was his turn to choose, he had no choice left.

The minotaur moved.

Its mountain-like body suddenly leaned forward, its heavy hooves smashing cracks into the ground, its arms bulging like taut cables, and the hammer handle vibrating with a sharp metallic sound.

The air collapsed the moment it raised its hammer, as if a low rumble of thunder rolled overhead.

The hammer was raised high above his head, and mottled bloodstains and congealed white sludge slid down like teardrops.

The next instant, death loomed over them.

The wind pressure whipped up the stray hairs on his forehead, making his scalp tingle like needles. He stared wide-eyed, his eyelids unable to close, as if he wanted to use the last second of his life to see that scene clearly.

Then--

A voice sounded.

It was neither a roar nor a lament.

It was a melodious and ethereal female voice, like stardust falling gently yet firmly into this deathly silence, as if it were stardust scattered from a crack in the sky.

There are no lyrics, only musical notes, like silver bells striking snow, like morning light illuminating the forest.

The song gently spread, as soft as a feather, piercing through the oppressive black fog, like a lighthouse in the night, giving direction back to desperate eyes.

Rudolf instinctively closed his eyes, as if at that moment...
He heard his wife humming a song in the kitchen, the echo of his daughter running in the hallway, and the warmth of that small home that had never been touched by darkness.

But... the expected shock did not come.

A muffled bang, deafeningly loud!
He suddenly opened his eyes.

The hammer stopped.

It was less than ten centimeters from his head.

The massive hammer, imbued with immense power, seemed to have struck an invisible barrier, firmly preventing it from reaching the brink of death.

The hammerhead trembled violently, but it seemed to be frozen by some divine power. No matter how much the minotaur roared and struggled, it could not move forward even a centimeter.

A holy light membrane slowly appeared above his head, as white as fresh snow, with ripples of pale gold.

Those are the wings of angels, the embodiment of faith, the faint echo of human will between life and death.

Vera stood behind, her pendant gleaming slightly, her lips still softly chanting, her eyes gentle yet resolute.

—She saved his life.

Rudolf stood there, frozen like a stone statue.

He is still alive.

But his heart still trembled.

Because he knew that from then on, he would never again treat the word "death" merely as a concept.

Behind her, Vera's whisper broke the silence, her voice as soft as a feather, piercing through layers of barriers:

"High-level Fate-type Mystery, Protection of the Angel of Hymns, Team Buff".

Her words were calm, without any explanation, yet they were like a decisive move, precisely aimed at the direction of Wang Yichen's team.

Upon hearing this, Zhuang Yege's eyes flickered slightly, and he slowly nodded, responding with silent respect as an eight-star mystery master.

On the other side, Si Ming leaned against the inner wall of the semi-transparent barrier, a cryptic smile playing on his lips, as if watching a play that had finally drawn him in.

"What mystery? What are you talking about?!" Wang Yichen turned his head in disbelief, for a moment forgetting to hide his emotions.
Shock, confusion, and fear surged onto his face like a tide.

"You...aren't ordinary people?"

He tried to catch Zhuang Yege's gaze, but the man just stood there quietly, his eyes like the cold moon reflected in the sea, neither responding nor avoiding it.

At that moment, Wang Yichen finally realized that he had lost his position as "captain".

No one obeyed his orders anymore.

Rudolf stumbled as he stepped down, his hands still trembling and his heart pounding.

Vera simply smiled slightly, her voice incredibly gentle:

"Very good, well done."

Her tone was like that of someone encouraging a beginner child, without the slightest hint of mockery.

That unwavering conviction and inclusiveness shone like holy light.

Fujimiya Sumi bit her lip, nervously clutching the hem of her skirt like a trembling little animal, but still slowly walked onto the stage with Vera's soft encouragement.

After two losses in three rounds, she was almost prepared to accept the punishment, but the hammer finally stopped above her head, like the scepter of repentance in the hand of a prophet that lingered.

It did not fall; it could not bring down the judgment of fate and death.

She survived, clutching her chest and collapsing to the ground, tears streaming down her face, but she gritted her teeth and didn't cry out.

Mu Sisi, on the other hand, was completely different. She entered the game with a light heart, won two rounds, and muttered to herself with a grin after clearing the level:
"Hey, I actually want to try what it feels like to smash someone with that hammer, it sounds... amazing?"

Rudolf's eyes widened, his scalp tingling: "Are all the young people these days... crazy?"

Vera did not respond to the teasing remark, but simply bowed her head slightly and quietly stepped onto the stage.

Three games, all won.

There was no delay, no commotion, as if she already knew the outcome of each round.

Vera's team cleared the level.

No one died, and no one was even injured.

An eerie silence fell over the hall, broken only by the sound of the wind whistling through the cracks in the space, as if whispering "miracle."

In the midst of this silence, everyone's gaze turned to that figure—who had never stood outside the spotlight and had never uttered a single word.

Sima Ming.

He still stood leaning against the barrier, one hand in his pocket, the other casually draped at his side, his expression languid, yet like an unawakened deity.

He was the last one.

He is also the only team leader who, despite being a two-person team, faces an S-class challenge alone.

Before everyone's eyes, a heavy door quietly rose beneath his feet.

There was no number on the door, only a deep black life line—as if it wanted to devour all the gazes that looked at it.

The air vibrated slightly, like a prelude to the turning of the page in destiny.

Wang Yichen's eyes were glazed over, his throat moved slightly, but he couldn't utter a single word.

And Si Ming—finally opened his eyes.

At that moment, even the starlight seemed to dim.

“Angels will stop you from dying.”

"But the blade of fate will ultimately come for you."

"are you ready?"

(End of this chapter)