Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 219 The Night of Death is Approaching

"Fate is not a matter of choice."
It's not about whether you can bear it all coming.

The long-forgotten desk was piled high with broken pieces of equipment and faded brochures.

Si Ming gently placed the notebook he had brought back from the "Paper-Sealed Building" in the center of the table, paused slightly with his fingertips, and then silently opened it.

The pages were filled with dense handwriting, some of which was so illegible that it was almost impossible to read, while others were blurred and covered by bloodstains and signs of burning.

The air was thick with dampness and a musty smell, as if even this notebook had long been corroded and permeated by the atmosphere of this eerie city.

“This was left by Leo.” Si Ming pointed to the page scorched by ashes, his voice low.

"The Mysterious Remains—at least part of its principles can be found here."

The crowd gathered, their expressions varied. Lynn stood at the front, her eyes fixed on the notebook, her expression shifting several times before she finally murmured softly:
"...This shouldn't exist."

Mu Sisi opened her mouth, wanting to ask, but in the end she just tightly gripped Fujimiya Sumi's clothes, suppressing the fear surging in her heart.

Vera took the book and read aloud a few lines that were still clearly legible:
"The limits of reason cannot be crossed."

"The calamity is merely a sieve for survival of the fittest, and we are tired of waiting for the miracle of 'divine inspiration'."

"We want to make it so that humans no longer need to be chosen."

The handwriting is faded and worn, yet it carries an incredible ambition.

"...This is not research." Zhuang Yege's voice was low and deep, like a stone sunk to the bottom of a lake. "This is creating a god."

“No.” Old Lynn suddenly spoke, his voice low and heavy, like an anchor sinking into the sea.

Everyone turned to look at him, and saw the heavily injured old secret master struggling to sit up.
His gaze pierced through the broken lens of his glasses and fell upon the notebook on the table.

“This is not about creating a god.” He enunciated clearly, each word striking the heart like a hammer blow.

"It's about creating a body double."

"Create a puppet that can take our place, bear the calamities, and transcend the limits of the celestial disaster."

The air seemed to freeze instantly at those words, becoming so heavy that it was hard to breathe.

“I know what the Secret Remains are.” Lynn’s voice was hoarse as he took over the conversation, his hands trembling slightly as he turned to the next page.

On that page was a torn flowchart, its paper faded and frayed at the edges. The title was blurry, but the remaining words were still legible:
Human Will × Mysterious Fusion × Reason-Shielding Implantation Mechanism

Remains Sample Number: Thirteen
Lynn stared at the line of text, his voice trembling slightly:
"They want to create weapons that are free from pain and sanity collapse using flesh and blood and cards."

Rudolf's face alternated between pale and flushed, his fists clenched tightly.

“It’s a pity…” Lynn gave a bitter smile, his voice so low it was almost like he was gritting his teeth, “They lost the bet.”

Then, Gregory spoke slowly, his voice low and hoarse, like a steel nail being slowly driven into a rotten plank:
"There's another document."

Everyone turned to look at the old man curled up on the dilapidated folding bed.

His left arm was still tightly wrapped in bandages, stained with blood, but he gritted his teeth and endured it, slowly pulling out a tightly folded piece of paper from his pocket.

The paper was yellowed and torn, with scorched edges, as if it had survived a silent fire.

The top was scribbled with corrections and annotations, and a sentence was repeatedly circled in red ink:

—"The thirteenth night is the last night."

At the bottom of the page, there was a sentence written with such force that it almost pierced the paper:

—"All those who have not returned are sacrifices."

Vera took the paper, her fingertips trembling slightly, her pupils shrinking to pinpoints.

“This is… a ritual framework?” she asked in a low voice.

Gregory nodded, panting as he added:

“We found this fragment in a copy of the collapsed research building in the old subway station area… My three companions gave everything to bring it out.”

Lynn sat beside him, holding his hand tightly, her eyes red-rimmed, and she remained silent with her head down.

“This city…” Gregory looked up, his gaze piercing through the broken dome to the almost sickly light of the sky.

"It also once had a real name."

Its real name is 'The City of Mysterious Remains'.

Silence, like an invisible hammer, struck hard on everyone's heart.

“I’m not sure if you’ve already noticed,” Gregory said in a hoarse voice, each word seeming to be squeezed from his very blood.

“Every night we experienced… was not merely a trial.”

"It's screening."

Fujimiya Sumire bit her lip and asked in a trembling voice:
"Screen...what?"

Lynn answered slowly, his voice carrying a deep weariness:

"It wasn't mentioned in the incomplete records."

"It was just emphasized again and again—on the thirteenth night, all those who remained, whether they passed the test or not, would become sacrifices."

“Madmen don’t kill,” Gregory added, his voice as deep as a drumbeat. “Madmen just…record the sacrifices.”

In the corner, Si Ming leaned against a dilapidated bookshelf, his fingers tracing the star chart of his destiny, his head bowed in deep thought.

After a long pause, he softly uttered a few words:
"We are...the last page of his script."

Zhuang Yege tapped her fingertips on the table, her voice chillingly calm.
"In other words, from the very first night, we were already immersed in a closed loop structure."

"From the first night to the thirteenth night, passing the level isn't the most important thing—"

"Instead, it's about living."

Everyone's hearts were shocked.

“Every night is a selection process.”

"Every night is a night of elimination."

“Every night is… a rehearsal for a sacrifice.”

Before Zhuang Yege could finish speaking, a faint metallic scraping sound came from afar.

Sunlight still streamed down from the broken ceiling, illuminating the tattered pages and faded ink on the table.

It was as if the whole world was holding its breath, waiting for the final bell of the thirteenth night to slowly ring out.

Duan Xingzhou stood at the bottom of a collapsed staircase in the shopping mall and decisively raised his hand to push away the broken handrail pressing against the doorway.

He was still wrapped in bandages, stained with blood, but his expression had returned to clarity, and the determination and composure of a veteran rekindled in his eyes.

Rudolf, Abel, Musisi, Lilith, and Fujimiya Sumi spontaneously formed a search team, with Zhuang Yege silently following behind and keeping watch.

His figure was like a silent blade, moving through the shadows, vigilantly scanning every corner that might be hiding danger.

Inside the shopping mall, more than 90% of the shops were empty, shelves were overturned, and shattered glass windows reflected scattered spots of light in the dust, like a ground covered with out-of-focus stars.

The electronic advertising screen was still intermittently flickering with blue-white malfunctioning light spots, and a dusty "Limited-Time Promotion" poster hung forlornly in mid-air.

Swaying in the wind, it seems to have been forgotten long ago in the chaotic cracks of time in this city.

Fujimiya Sumire carefully pried open the back door of a drugstore. Her movements were somewhat stiff, and the wound on her arm had not yet healed, but she gritted her teeth and persevered, unwilling to be idle for even a moment.

"There's still alcohol here..." Lilith's voice betrayed an barely suppressed joy as she swept the beam of her flashlight across the room.

The light revealed a whole row of unopened medicines behind the counter, sealed in good condition despite the dust.

"Iodine solution and bandages, these will all be useful." Mu Sisi carefully sorted the supplies in her yellowed shopping basket while murmuring softly, "Thank you... really, thank you..."

In this city filled with death and shadow, any resource that can sustain life is a gift of mercy from heaven.

"Don't get too excited too soon," Duan Xingzhou warned in a deep voice, his expression calm. "It would be best if we could find something to eat."

Rudolf picked up a box of food bags covered in a thick layer of dust, shook it gently, and it made a hollow rattling sound.
"There are still aftershocks; we need to act quickly."

At the end of the corridor, a freezer supermarket was still dimly lit.

Electricity seems to have unexpectedly continued to this day within the chaotic and disordered fabric of the city.

The notice posted at the door had long since faded and peeled off, leaving only a layer of tattered tape.

However, some canned goods and emergency rations still remained on the shelves.

"Over there," Zhuang Yege whispered, pointing to the other side, "The spatial distortion isn't strong, we can go in." Everyone reacted quickly, splitting up to enter the supermarket to search for supplies.

Their movements were swift and coordinated, with no one uttering unnecessary words.

The entire operation took less than an hour, and although the supplies they brought back were not abundant, they were enough to sustain them for three days.

Everyone sat around a corner of the shopping mall, spread out their supplies, and began to count and register them.

"This is enough for six portions, half a bottle of water for each person, calculated based on the worst-case scenario..." Mu Sisi quietly organized her notebook, her voice soft but steady.

It's like creating a fragile yet necessary sense of "everyday life" for everyone.

Even if this everyday routine is already riddled with cracks.

Above the shattered dome, sunlight streamed in through the broken glass, eerily bright.

Too bright.

The sunlight, which should have been warm, felt like a silent, sharp blade, piercing the nerve endings of everyone.
It illuminated the bloodstains on their clothes, the dried mud on their cheeks, and the barely concealed fear deep in their eyes.

Rudolf looked up and glanced at it, his voice hoarse and deep:
"Don't you guys think so...?"

He paused, as if searching for the right words.

"It's so bright today."

After the supplies were sorted out, the shopping center fell into a dim, silent atmosphere.

People sat scattered or leaned against the supporting pillars and old furniture, each seeking a brief respite.

Some people sat cross-legged with their eyes closed, some were exchanging brief conversations in hushed tones, and some were simply gazing quietly ahead.

His expression was blank, as if he were waiting—waiting for the inevitable, irresistible next storm.

Sunlight streamed through the broken skylight, scattering across the dust-filled air, the floating spots of light seemingly drowning in another unseen frenzy.

Beneath this delicate and fragmented stillness, the pendulum of fate continues to swing silently, awaiting the moment it will strike again.

"What time is it now?" Lilith asked in a low voice.

"It's not even three o'clock in the afternoon." Zhuang Yege raised her wrist, glanced at the distorted but still barely functioning mechanical watch, and said calmly.

"Why does it feel like... it's already dusk?"

Fujimiya Sumi curled up, gently hugging her knees, leaning against a dusty toy shelf, her voice carrying an indescribable weariness and dazedness.

Her gaze unconsciously fell to her feet—a doll with its broken string lying on the ground, its head tilted to one side, a half-peeled "50% discount" tag still stuck to its broken wooden face.

Those glass bead-like eyes were hollow and bright, reflecting the sunlight streaming through the broken dome, making one's eyes sting.

“That’s just your heart making a judgment in advance.” Vera walked over and gently sat down beside her.

"The brighter the sun, the more people fear it will suddenly go out."

"Because we all know that it will eventually go out."

Fujimiya Sumi did not respond, but buried her head deeper into her arms, as if trying to hide herself in the darkness.

After a moment of silence, Duan Xingzhou spoke, his voice hoarse:
"What exactly happened to you inside last night?"

He tried to keep his tone calm, but behind every word was an overwhelming fear.

Vera did not answer immediately.

Si Ming simply shook the empty deck of cards in his hand lazily, his fingertips lightly tapping the sides of the deck, producing a soft but unsettling rhythm.

"But we heard it," Mu Sisi suddenly said softly, breaking the silence.
"The thing you're hitting... its voice keeps echoing in my head."

"It was like whispering something in my ear...like giving a command while pulling a string."

Her voice was very low, almost trembling, but she still managed to say it.

Si Ming raised his head slightly and looked at her seriously for the first time.

Mu Sisi paused, nervously clutching the hem of her clothes, and added:

"I'm not sure... I just feel like there's always someone in my ear... pulling on something, like trying to drag my will away..."

The air seemed to freeze at those words.

“That’s not an illusion,” Zhuang Yege said in a low voice, his tone cold.

"It's the effect of the secret remains—as long as we remain in this city, that 'whispering' will not stop."

He paused, his cold gaze sweeping across the faces of everyone around him:

"Moreover, they are not whispering to us."

"That's the next target."

Mu Sisi suddenly lowered her head, hugging herself tightly with both hands, as if she could find a little bit of security in her broken body.

Rudolph, his face grim, slowly walked toward a broken shop window in the mall.

He stood by the dusty glass, gazing at the eerily overexposed street scene outside.

Under the gray sky, the city resembled a soulless corpse, stiff, smooth, and lifeless.

He murmured to himself:
"We won't make it to the thirteenth night."

"If we don't make any preparations for tomorrow night..."

"We might not even make it to the second night."

His voice was deep, yet it sounded particularly jarring in the silence.

No one refuted.

Because they all knew that it wasn't an exaggeration.

That's true.

—

In the corner, Gregory slowly opened his eyes.

He looked up at the halo of light gradually turning golden and red on the ceiling, his face showing no fear, only a deep and utter exhaustion.

After a long silence, he finally spoke, his voice low and hoarse, like the last echo of an old bell:

"After tonight, the city will look different."

"The real one will open its eyes."

Lynn stood behind him, her hand on his shoulder, her knuckles white, her eyes calm to the point of being icy.

"What are our chances of getting out of here alive?" Rudolf asked in a low voice, his voice sounding like he was struggling.

Si Ming shrugged and pulled a small, crumpled piece of paper from his backpack.

That was a corner torn from Oscar Lee's notebook, with a few lines of writing scrawled on it.

Si Ming, biting into a candy stick, softly recited:
"...They say that on the thirteenth night, 'He' will devour the entire city."

He whistled lazily, a mocking smile playing on his lips:

"So, including tonight, we have ten more nights to live."

No one laughed.

The city at this moment is so bright under the sunlight that it's almost manic.

Golden rays of light pierced through the shattered glass, spilling onto the broken dolls, the collapsed display stand, and the dust-covered artificial flowers.

It illuminates everything too vividly, too realistically, as if silently revealing that this light is nothing more than a false curtain.

Behind this pale light curtain

A deeper darkness,
A kind of true night,
It is growing quietly.

"The moment when the sun is at its brightest"
It was the moment when the night was at its deepest.

Not all light can illuminate the truth.

Not all nights are considered dark.

(End of this chapter)