Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 217 The Illusory Tranquility of Dawn

Not all sunshine can dispel the darkness of night.

Not all peace is a gift from the living.

The roar of the collapsing paper-sealed building still echoed in my ears, as if death had not yet completely retracted its final whisper.

The main characters staggered out from between the ruins, breathing in the air thick with the smells of dust, rust, and steam.
Each breath was accompanied by a piercing pain that felt like it was tearing my lungs apart.

Just as their blood-stained and wounded figures passed through the rubble, a ray of pale golden light...

It quietly broke through the clouds from the city's gray sky and landed on them.

This was the first time they had truly seen the sun since they entered this bizarre city.

Morning light pierced through the mist and gaps between broken high-rise buildings, illuminating a broken viaduct and a winding, abandoned street strewn with rubble.

Some areas of the city were bathed in a hazy gold, while others remained shrouded in deep shadows, like forgotten old dreams that had never awakened.

Mu Sisi stood at the edge of the ruins, gazing at the faint golden light in the distance, her eyes reddening and her voice choked with emotion:
“…It’s dawn.”

She seemed to be using those words to drive away the lingering echoes of death deep within her mind.

"It is such a rare thing to be alive."

Fujimiya Sumire murmured, blinking her bloodshot eyes as she stared blankly at her hands, which were covered in dust and blood.

"Did we... really get out of that place?"

Vera silently put away the cooled-down Destiny card in her hand, her fingertips still trembling slightly.

She slowly scanned her surroundings through the distorted patterns of heat refracted by the sun, her vigilance undiminished.

Zhuang Yege stood beside her, his face so pale it was almost transparent, but his gaze remained cold and resolute.

He slowly raised his hand and pointed to a corner of a building in the distance:
"Have you noticed that the light only shines on these few streets... like a stage that has been cut out?"

"What do you mean?" Celian crossed her arms, her body trembling slightly, and muttered a curse under her breath.
"This sunlight...something's not right, it looks like it was painted on with a paintbrush."

“It’s fake,” Si Ming replied softly, a tired smile curving his lips. “At least, it’s not a real morning.”

His tone was like a ruthless mockery of a bad script and set design, but it also contained a helpless acceptance—even if it was fake, the light was still something to cherish.

Wang Yichen staggered in the middle of the group, supporting the semi-conscious Duan Xingzhou with one hand and leaning on a steel bar bent into the shape of a cane with the other.

His eyes were bloodshot, and he moved cautiously and warily.

They emerged from the shadows, but failed to truly step into the light.

The ruined street, like an expired and rotten corpse, was brutally unwrapped by this fake dawn, revealing pale steel bars and broken concrete.

The sunlight, however, is nothing more than a flimsy fig leaf.

They walked silently through the broken streets, the morning light slanting across their wounded bodies, their steps faltering and heavy.

No one spoke anymore.

Everyone was silently counting their own steps, as if only in this way could they confirm that they were still alive.

The city was eerily quiet.

There was no wind, no birds, and no machine noise.

Only from a distant, collapsed building, the occasional echo of metal sliding down could be heard, as if some unknown entity was quietly disturbing this abandoned relic of human civilization.

“Ahead,” Rudolf suddenly spoke in a hoarse voice, pointing ahead, “that building… looks like a former shopping mall?”

Everyone looked in the direction he was looking.

It was a three-story glass structure building, most of its facade had collapsed, and shattered billboards hung in the air, swaying slightly in the wind.

Sunlight pierced through layers of dust, striking the broken glass shards and reflecting fragmented light and shadow, like snow floating in mid-air.

"Let's go in and take a look." Si Ming took the lead and walked slowly, each step feeling like he was stepping on the corpses of the past, yet his steps remained firm.

The damaged revolving door had been pried into a twisted triangular shape, and the group carefully passed through it.

The mall was empty and dark, with only a few beams of morning light pouring down from the broken skylight, illuminating the collapsed floor tiles in the central hall and the piles of mannequins.

Some of the models had missing arms, some had no faces, some lay on overturned sofas, and some sat upright on broken display cases.

It's as if a never-ending absurd drama is being performed silently.

"I'll go check the second floor," Zhuang Yege said in a low voice, pulling out a portable flashlight. The light was dim, but enough to pierce the darkness.

"I'm in charge of dividing up the rest areas."

Vera's gaze shifted, quickly locking onto a corner near the wall—a good position for surveillance.

Rudolph consciously began inspecting the surrounding old lockers and abandoned passageways to ensure safety.

The rest of the people, like puppets with broken strings, found a place to lean against in this broken space and slumped down.

Exhaustion overwhelmed his body, and he allowed the cold floor tiles to seep into his flesh little by little from his wounds and the gaps in his bones.

Mu Sisi huddled beside the collapsed cash register, her hands clasped together, her lips moving slightly as she whispered a prayer that was almost inaudible.

The sound was so faint that even the air seemed to hold its breath.

"...Thank you for surviving, thank you for not dying...and...thank you for still being here."

Duan Xingzhou leaned against a crooked beam, staring down at the deep, unstitched laceration on his arm.

The bleeding had already stopped, but he just stared blankly at the wound, without moving or showing any emotion.

Wang Yichen stood alone in the center of the hall, leaning on a steel crutch with one hand and clenching his fist with the other, his eyes warily scanning every shadow.

He didn't miss a single one—the dilapidated elevator shaft, the collapsed staircase, the dark corner.

It was as if they were on guard, or as if they were waiting.

"I feel... like I'm being watched," he muttered to himself.

“Not human.” Xu Jinxiao stood behind the broken reception platform not far away, her voice as flat as still water.

"It's this city."

"The city is watching us."

Everyone fell silent for a moment, and could only listen quietly.

Only sunlight streamed through the broken skylight, falling on each of their faces—

Illuminate every drop of sweat, every scar, every inch of unhealed weariness and despair.

It was as if they had been forcibly torn back from the boundary between the living and the dead.

The sense of security in the silence hadn't lasted even ten minutes when a crisp "click" suddenly rang out from deep within the mall, like a pebble falling into an extremely tense lake, instantly stirring up countless undercurrents.

Eileen looked up abruptly, her unfinished prayer abruptly halted.

Rudolf's rummaging for supplies came to an abrupt halt. He turned around quickly, his muscles tense.

Wang Yichen suddenly raised the steel bar in his hand, and without a word took a step in the direction from which the sound came, his whole body exuding a sharp vigilance born from exhaustion.

"It's behind the wall," Si Ming said in a low voice, his eyes narrowing slightly. "There's movement near the stairwell on the southeast side."

Fujimiya Sumi instinctively leaned towards Vera, lowering her voice: "Could it be another remnant of the Secret Corpse?"

"No." Zhuang Yege had returned to the team at some point. He stood in the shadows, his tone calm and firm. "His breathing rate is too fast. Someone inside is... holding their breath."

"It's a living person."

As soon as the words were spoken, the air tensed instantly, like a fully drawn bowstring, ready to be released at any moment.

Selene slowly jumped off the armrest, licked her lips, and her eyes gleamed with eager anticipation:

"Should I go pull it out first?"

"No." Si Ming raised his hand to stop him, his voice steady.

"Don't scare them."

He gave Vera a wink, his trust needing no further explanation.

Vera nodded and turned to walk toward the source of the sound without hesitation.

She didn't call out, nor did she approach rashly. She simply walked step by step toward the dimly lit entrance of the corridor and stopped in the darkness.

At that moment, silence returned.

But Vera keenly noticed a faint metallic clanging sound coming from behind the stacked shelves, as if someone had knocked over something in a panic.

"I'm not the enemy."

Her tone was gentle, without the slightest hint of pressure, "I am a sorcerer. If you are not enemies, there is no need for you to hide."

There was no response, only faint panting.

Half a minute later, a hoarse voice finally came from behind the shelf, filled with extreme fatigue and vigilance:
"...Don't come any closer."

"We are injured."

Vera immediately stopped, knelt on one knee, and slowly pressed the card in her hand onto the ground to indicate that she had no hostile intentions.

“I have no weapons on me.” Her voice was gentle. “I have medics, food, and teammates behind me, but nobody wants to fight.”

"We were here too, we escaped."

The air fell silent once more.

A few seconds later, a swaying figure finally emerged from behind the shelf.

She was a short-haired woman wearing a black leather jacket, with a pale face and sharp, razor-sharp silver-gray eyes.

He gripped a small silver blade tightly in his hand, the tip trembling, but he didn't put it down immediately.

Behind her, an elderly woman, her face covered in blood and barely breathing, leaned against the wall, struggling to support herself.

Further behind, a middle-aged man with a dusty face was supporting a blonde girl who was curled up in a ball. The girl was as pale as a sheet and her eyes were full of fear.

Four people.

Lynn Hart.

Gregory Lynn.

Abel Cohen.

Lilith Morrell.

The trajectories of fate intersect and converge once again in this dilapidated shopping mall.

Vera smiled slightly, her eyes gentle yet firm:
“I am Vera Castile, a mystery mage, specializing in fate.”

The short-haired woman, Lynn, scanned the crowd warily.

Only when she saw Si Ming, Zhuang Yege, Serian, and the other equally wounded and exhausted people did her expression soften slightly, but she still did not put down the dagger.

“Lynn Hart,” she introduced briefly, her voice hoarse.

"The Seven Stars Fate System belongs to the Gray Tower."

“Grey Tower.” Vera’s expression froze for a moment.

It was one of the last remaining strongholds of legal taboo research, which should have been abolished many years ago, but it has been lingering in the shadows.

“Your master…” Vera’s gaze fell on the old man sitting against the wall, her tone gentle yet inquiring.

“Gregory Lynn,” Lynn answered without hesitation, his eyes filled with instinctive wariness.
"The Twelve Stars cultivate both the World and Life systems, but have not yet advanced to the Star Calamity level."

"You should have heard of this name."

The air seemed to freeze.

Zhuang Yege's brows furrowed, and he spoke in a low voice:
“Gregory…the Grey Tower scholar…I thought he…”

"Expelled?" Lynn interrupted coldly, his fingers tightening, a cold glint flashing in his eyes.

"He is a loser, not a sinner. If you are here to settle scores, then do it now."

“Nobody wants to make a move,” Si Ming said with a smile, easily breaking the deadlock.

“We have just climbed out of the building sealed with paper — if we really wanted to settle accounts, we would have started the moment the building collapsed.”

He took a step forward, his gaze sweeping over Lynn and landing on the old man who was almost exhausted but still struggling to maintain his sitting posture.

"The rationality of the twelve stars will not be easily extinguished."

Lynn remained wary, but his voice was a notch lower:
"what do you want to say in the end?"

Si Ming smiled and slowly spoke:
What I'm trying to say is—is there some interesting 'trace' hidden in your master's bag?

Lynn's pupils contracted sharply, and almost instinctively he stepped in front of Greg.

"how do you know--"

“Leo,” Si Ming said calmly, “we just fought him.”

Lynn's face turned deathly pale.

She finally slowly sheathed the dagger, her movements still wary, but no longer hostile.

"You... come from the Paper-Sealed Tower?"

Vera nodded slightly, her voice calm:
"We defeated that 'Secret Remains of Domination'."

A simple sentence, like thunder piercing through the deathly silence.

Shock, suspicion, and unease flickered in Lynn's eyes, eventually turning into a deep sigh.

"...We are willing to cooperate."

The air finally relaxed a little.

Abel Cohen timidly peeked out and swallowed hard:

"So, we've... escaped death again?"

“This calamity,” Si Ming shrugged, his expression flippant, “I have to learn to get used to it.”

Lilith remained silent, clutching a crumpled psychology manual tightly, her eyes filled with timidity and sorrow, as she quietly approached Lynn.

Gregory Lynn, who was leaning against the corner, slowly opened one of his bright blue eyes.

There was no anger or wariness in those eyes, only the weariness and insight that time had brought.

He gazed at Si Ming, his lips twitching slightly, his voice hoarse:
"You... are a gambler too."

Si Ming smiled slightly but did not answer.

But at that moment, the glint in his eyes seemed to echo all the unspoken secrets of this bizarre city.

Gregory slowly tightened the tattered cloth-wrapped bag, its secrets lying dormant, waiting for the next person to carry it.

The atmosphere in the mall remained oppressive, but the brief standoff and estrangement had been diluted by shared fatigue.

Mu Sisi handed Lilith a candy she had found in the ruins; the wrapper was crumpled, but it was still sweet.

"Thank you..." Lilith's voice was so soft it was like the rustling of paper.

Vera bent down to tend to Gregory's wounds; even without being able to use her secrets, her movements remained steady and gentle.

"Your wound... it's already necrotic." She frowned, her voice soft.

“I can’t hold on much longer,” Gregory said with a wry smile, panting. “But I want to hand over that notebook…by my own hand.”

"to whom?"

"...people who can still keep going."

In the corner, Zhuang Yege remained silent, leaning against the billboard, quietly gazing at the changing light of the sky—the ray of sunlight was not rising, but rather dimming.

Si Ming was flipping through an old terminal left over from the control room, his fingertips tapping on the dusty keyboard.

"What did you find?" Wang Yichen asked in a low voice as he approached.

“No,” Si Ming replied easily, “but this terminal… had a heartbeat just now.”

"Heartbeat?"

"It updated a system command."

Before he finished speaking, the walls of the entire shopping mall trembled slightly.

A deep rumble echoed from the depths of the distant street—

It's the sound of gears turning.

Like a sleeping giant, it turned over in the sunlight.

"...Did you hear that?" Fujimiya Sumi's voice trembled.

“I heard you.” Si Ming put away his terminal, squinted, and looked deeper into the city.

"We've only just pushed open the first door."