Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 272 The Gate of Fallen Power: A Dream Returns to the Beginning
"Which person are you who died in their dream? The third? The thirtieth? Wrong..."

I've lost count of how many times I've died.

All I remember is that when I first opened my eyes, I felt a sense of 'resentment'.

This time, I want to open my eyes—with the bearing of a 'god'.

My name is Wang Yichen, and I am 27 years old.

A contracted streamer on a live streaming platform, account ID: Yichen Running Club Expert.

I started out with "Urban Legend Unveiling," "Paranormal Reality Gameplay," and "Extreme Escape Room Challenges."
With a friendly and humorous style, clear logic, and a talent for on-the-spot analysis, I was once jokingly called "the number one choice for a rational horror host" by the viewers.

Of course, at first, I just wanted to get some attention.

That day, I accepted an invitation to a live stream of an immersive urban game called "Thirteen Rounds of Black Moon".

The title sounds outrageous and bizarre enough to attract attention.

I initially thought this was just a routine program shoot involving "resource allocation and sponsorship cooperation".

I put on my headset microphone, adjusted the lights and camera position, flashed my standard smile at the camera, and delivered the opening line that I had been working on for so long:

"Welcome to my most hardcore challenge of the year - 'Thirteen Rounds of Black Moon: A True Record of a Life-or-Death Game'. I am your rational male god, Yichen."

Then, I clicked on the door on the screen.

—That door, a door from which there is no return.

I remember the scene.

Behind the door, there wasn't a work team, a props department, or lighting and camera crew, but rather—

An empty cell space filled with gray and white brick seams.

Next came the system notification sound, cold as metal scraping against bones, striking straight to the mind:

Welcome to the First Night of the Black Moon: The Trial of Trust.

I didn't have time to react.

The next second, I lost consciousness.

When I opened my eyes again, my head was throbbing with pain, and I was lying on a cold, damp cement floor.

I saw myself—as if I had been dragged into a game.

At the time, I thought it was an "immersive prank" orchestrated by the staff, and I was still looking for the camera and communication device, trying to use that live-streaming tone to complain.

Until the first "player" was brutally chopped in the neck right in front of me, blood gushing out like a burst high-pressure water pipe.

Until I screamed and ran, trying to escape and open the door, only to find emptiness; reality no longer existed.

The live streaming equipment had already been frozen, and the recording was interrupted. The only thing I had on me was a strange, cold card with a pattern on the back that looked like it was dripping blood.

I died on the third night.

That night's trial was called "The Gallows' Ballot".

The rule is simple: we must vote for the "least trustworthy person".

I don't want to choose. I want to procrastinate. I thought it was like a game where I could choose "neutral" and do nothing.

As a result, my head was executed by the system.

The system is cold and emotionless.

[Execution completed by Wang Yichen, No. A-003.]

I remember the moment the gallows fell, the air was filled with the sounds of electric shocks and the smell of tearing flesh, it was nauseating.

My throat felt like it had been slashed by a sharp blade, and my lungs were filled with blood.

Then—I opened my eyes.

We returned to the original room.

Same gray and white brick joints, different "teammates".

Their faces bore a familiar look of confusion, while I was covered in cold sweat and my breath trembled.

No one could tell what I had been through.

I thought it was a dream.

Until that card slowly appeared in my hand, gleaming with a dark, eerie light.

Then it whispered.

Close to my ear, the voice was like a damp cloth wrapped around my throat, carrying a suffocating chill:
"Hello, 'Yichen'. I have always been inside you."

“I am your artificial mystery—[Boundless Evil Entanglement].”

Do you want to die again?

I was stunned.

The cards didn't stop.

It continued in an almost fawning tone:
"I can help you... survive."

"To help you... plunder the power of those who are stronger than you."

"You only need to do one small thing—kill those 'mysticists'."

At that time, was I filled with fear? Denial? Angry?
But I laughed.

I said something—

"Are you serious?"

From that moment on, I was no longer that young man who relied on telling ghost stories to gain traffic in the live streaming room.

No longer the person who died on the third night, unable to survive under the gallows.

I am Wang Yichen.

This is the first time in the Black Moon game that I have "survived" the trials.

It wasn't because the rules were kind to me.

It's because I chose to stop believing in the rules.

I no longer believe in goodwill, I no longer believe in teams, and I no longer believe in so-called "cooperative clearance".

There is only one thing I believe in:

As long as you live, you can seize the final victory.

They thought I was a newbie, a misjudgment by the system.

They said I was lucky to have cleared the game overnight.

They say I'm quiet, have a gentle smile, and seem like a sociable ordinary person.

They don't know that I remember the blood of every trial, the time interval between every execution, and the price of every life.

I know the rules well, I know how to plunder, and I know how to take advantage of situations where everyone is caught in conflict and suspicion.

Standing in the most inconspicuous corner, they plucked their victory and took it away.

This is just the beginning.

And this deck of cards reminds me every day:

"With just a little effort, you can plunder the entire game."

I'm not afraid to die again.

Because I know that I have already died once.

The one who is alive now is Wang Yichen.

It's that one—

The one who will survive to the end.

Cards taught me to recognize people and to hide my true nature.

It's like a calm mentor, and also like a lover who lies habitually.

It taught me how to subtly alter the bias that belongs to "life" within the "probability of death".

It also told me that the so-called "mystic masters" are the real prey.

It said that every card and every word on them was a "spell remnant" that I could consume.

Their mysteries are the steps I take on the path to "ascension to godhood".

I obeyed it.

The first raid occurred in the fifth round.

In that game, a four-star Fate-type Mystic lost due to a misjudgment.

As he fell to the ground, his card appeared, still intact.

[Boundless Evil Entanglement] whispered merrily in my ear, its tone almost joyful:

"Allow me to chew it clean."

I did not stop it.

I watched as the Mystic's card transformed into a black beam of light in the air and was absorbed into my body.

I obtained my first entry:
[Predicting the impasse]

In that instant, I felt as if I had stepped into the "highlight of the story" that I had been dreaming of.

My perspective has changed.

I can read the angle of reflection of the enemy's fate.

I can judge the kinetic energy shift in the "next round of fate".

I know who will back down. Who will make their move. Who will have murderous intent.

I won the second game, the third game, the fifth game...

I began to crave—more.

After each victory, [Boundless Evil Entanglement] would say in that almost intoxicated voice:

“That’s really good, Yichen. You’re becoming more and more like us life forms that are ‘not human’.”

At first, I didn't understand what that sentence meant.

All I know is that I won too much.

Winning until your heart stops racing.

Sometimes, when I win so much, I forget what fear feels like in battle.

I thought I had everything under control.

I thought I was a system loophole, a blind spot in the script, or a "cheater" among the players.

I thought I was "using" [Boundless Evil Entanglement].

Until one night, I saw myself in the mirror, and that was no longer myself.

That's not my face.

It was a smiling, unfamiliar face covered with black, mysterious patterns, as if the skin had been peeled away to reveal the "bones" of another kind of will.

For the first time, I truly realized:
This card is not my tool.

I am its outer shell.

I remember that night very clearly.

That was my seventh round after I died and was resurrected.

I swallowed a World-type Mystic Master's Domain Card, the card's name is—【Mirror Language Boundary】.

It was an extremely complex and ingenious defensive illusion card.

It is also the most perfect "consciousness domain" structure I have ever seen, dangerous enough and powerful enough.

As soon as it fell, I pounced on it and held it down.

I didn't even have time to read the complete entry.

Because the next second, the [Boundless Evil Entanglement] was already burning hot in my palm.

It was as excited as a predator that had smelled blood, its voice high-pitched and trembling:
"Ah...this taste...is so much better than your predictive abilities."

"Let me try to see if I can copy its foundation."

Then--

An excruciating pain, almost tearing my brain apart, exploded within me.

It's as if my consciousness and the card are separated by a transparent water film.

It pressed me inch by inch under that membrane.

While absorbing my remaining resistance, it frantically "disassembled" the structure of that domain card.

It's not absorption.

It's not a fusion.

Instead, like a mechanic dismantling a mecha wreckage, they dismantle the "memory," "ability," and "law" piece by piece, chewing and crushing them with sharp teeth.

Then put it back inside me.

I saw—

Inside my body, at some unknown time, a dark, skeletal core had emerged, inscribed with:

[Predicting a Breakthrough] (Already Integrated)
【Mirror Language Boundary - Fragments】(Already merged)
This is not a copy.

It means "disassembly and assembly".

I then realized that "plundering" does not mean taking possession of something.

It means peeling.

It is the remains of other people's souls and abilities that are forcibly connected into my "new system".

That night, I vomited three times.

It wasn't because I felt nauseous.

Rather, it's because... I vomited up fragments of my own "realism".

It's as if someone pulled me out of my body and rewrote me in some colder "format".

I remember the third time I vomited, I looked at the black card in my hand, and that familiar voice rang in my mind again.

"Used to it."

"You are my best creation, Yichen."

I didn't speak.

At that moment, I felt empty inside.

I can't even be sure:
How many of the "me"s left are the real "me"s?

I'm starting to lose sight of myself—am I Wang Yichen, or that "puzzle person" composed of several phrases?

But I can't stop.

In the next trial, I deliberately walked up behind a life-type summoner and, before he even realized it, slit the back of his neck.

He didn't even have time to utter a final gasp.

The card slipped from his palm, emitting a faint light that was almost a mournful cry.

I reached out and picked it up.

[Blood Transfer] - A support term that allows one to absorb damage from others.

It's not an offensive tactic, nor does it have many merits.
But when it was embedded in the entry panel within me, shining alongside the original two entries, I laughed.

finally, I understand.

I'm not winning the game.

I am feeding myself.

—Also feeding it.

"another one."

"[Boundless Evil Entanglement]" whispered in my mind, its tone almost coquettish, "I'm hungry."

"Don't you want to live like a god? Look at them—these mystics are high above, born with star charts, card decks, talents, and bloodlines. What makes them so special?"

"You're just a streamer? Do you even deserve that title?"

"But now... you're worthy."

"You are stronger than them. You have me."

I started having trouble sleeping at night.

I am no longer afraid of death; I begin to yearn for the splitting point of death, for the collapse and reconstruction brought about by the next entry.

I began to pay close attention to the death results of each trial, accurately calculating the timing of death and predicting the location where cards would fall.

I started rushing forward to touch the cards after each Mystic Master was defeated, even if it aroused questions and suspicions from my teammates.

But no one dared to stop me.

They all say I'm a "lucky guy," that I'm Wang Yichen who miraculously survived within the rules, a neutral person navigating between rationality and competition.

They didn't know—

I no longer stand on the side of "rationality".

I stand on the predator's high platform.

At the end of the thirteenth round, I triggered a system reaction that had never happened before.

That was the "reprogramming phase" after the system broke through the limits of the mysterious carrier.

I entered a card-based immersive illusion.

I saw a blank card slowly unfold in front of me.

The system sounded:

[Name this card?]

I thought for a second.

Then write on the card:

[Planetary Disaster - Reserve Card No. 13]

[Permissions: Not unlocked] [Boundless Evil Entanglement] laughed.

It was a laugh that bordered on ecstasy, wild and satisfied, with a fiery tremor.

It echoed in my mind:
"You are no longer human, Yichen."

“You are one of the ‘Thirteen Fates,’ the sprout of a celestial calamity.”

"If you consume one more and add one more entry, we can enter the [Trial of Divinity]."

I didn't close my eyes that night.

I sat in that empty space made of gray bricks, the cards spinning in my palm, five words appearing one after another, glowing with a faint light.

As I listened to its voice, I felt my own breathing becoming increasingly unfamiliar.

"One more."

"Again."

In the sixteenth round, I reached six entries.

Sixth is a kind of threshold.

I can feel my body subtly changing.

It's not a mutation of muscles, nor a leap in intelligence, but a deeper sense of existential dislocation.

When I began to speak, I heard my own "echo".

It wasn't someone else responding, but another "me" repeating the same sentences inside my body.

I saw a figure silently pass by through the glass in the corner.

I turned around, but there was no one there.

But I know it wasn't an illusion.

I dreamt of the mystics I killed, standing before my bed, each one smiling silently, their eyes empty, the cards they held slowly tearing in the air.

I know that it was the "overflow of hunger" from the "boundless evil entanglement".

It was so hungry.

It hasn't had a "high-quality" entry in a long time.

And I—can no longer tolerate the "empty window".

I began to loathe ordinary people.

They were cowardly, slow-witted, and indecisive; every mistake they made could have plunged the entire team into dire straits—and then I would have to take the blame for them.

I also started to envy those sorcerers.

They are born with star charts and mysteries.

They don't need to kill to become stronger.

I learn quickly.

But I can only improve through killing.

I once asked myself:
If one day I plunder the top terms of all departments, could I become—their god?
I did not provide an answer.

Because I don't need to give that answer.

The [Boundless Evil Entanglement] has already told me:

"Yes, you can become a god."

"A god of life created from death and plunder."

So it began to guide me to proactively set up the situation:
"Next round, I'll contact that doctor specializing in life sciences. Her card has a simple structure, pure entries, and is easy to disassemble."

"Did you see that world-type commander? The domain card within him is already cracked. It will collapse with the slightest push—and then it will be yours."

I obeyed.

I am no longer a "lucky survivor".

I am a hunter.

I come from among them.

But I no longer belong to them.

And just as I was once again alone facing that door with its gray brick seams, I spoke to the shadowy figure in the mirror for the first time.

I looked at it, that familiar yet unfamiliar face, those dark patterns, those eternally smiling eyes.

I asked softly:

"who is the next?"

I enjoy all of this.

I never deny it.

Every time I offer advice with a smile and gently comfort others,

In my mind, I was actually precisely calculating his probability of death, card potential, and—the success rate of tag stripping.

I've become the kind of person I used to hate the most.

An entity that is not bound by rules.

I am no longer human.

I am [Secret Remains - Pseudo-Destiny Species Number X-13].

I'm just keeping the name "Wang Yichen" for now.

I thought I was still moving forward according to my own will, until that night, when I saw him under the cracked black moon.

—Crazy Thirteen.

In the nineteenth round, on that night, the black moon cracked open, and a spatial rift, like a cut in a script, appeared at the end of the maze.

I saw a face without features, an open door, and a whisper:
"Hello, my creation."

The voice was neither a card's guidance nor a system announcement.

Yes... "the one who created me".

I know who I am.

I was merely the thirteenth in his experiment, a fragment of destiny used to "replace the celestial calamity," a variable he set up, a gamble.

I should be angry, struggling, and afraid.

But I laughed.

"So you are my real father."

I am not his failure.

I will be his "completer".

His unfinished "godhood plan"—I will complete it.

He created me, and I will rewrite his final chapter with my own hands.

I want to stand above everyone, including him.

Then, in round XXX, I got my chance.

I'm sorry, I can't remember which round it was. There were too many deaths; the number of resuscitations no longer mattered. The numbers were just a joke.

That round was the "Nine Gates Selection Trial".

Participants must choose a team according to the "numbering mechanism" and enter one of the nine doors to complete the team challenge.

I suggested, "I'll join Xiao Lianyin's group. She has domain cards and summoned creatures, which can provide some protection."

She did not refuse.

She assumed that my choice was based on my "trust" in her.

But I know it's because I'm hungry.

Before that night, I had already collected six entries.

What I'm missing is a "complete entry" for someone with superhuman strength.

—A mystic from an old noble family with pure blood.

Xiao Lianyin.

The echoes of the "fallen red mirror village" resonate in her blood.

She is the "Red Night Fox," and her summoned form is the demigod-level [Fox Consort Tu Long].

She was the prey I was destined to devour.

I quietly set up the chessboard.

That group consisted of five people, three of whom were her followers, who called themselves "loyal dogs."

I know their names.

They also knew that they could all be killed.

That night, I caused an "accident".

I used the [Illusion Deception] ability to create a fake "Life Gate Guidance Rune," leading the entire team into the Heavy Anchor room where the gatekeeper boss was located.

It was a "Molten Steel Guardian" composed of a berserk will and a fiery structure, which should have been a late-game final enemy.

But I made it appear ahead of schedule.

At the same time, I activated the [Plunder Attribute - Sound Field Disruption] to block Xiao Lianyin's "body coordinates" sound channel in the midst of the melee.

Her loyal dog—unresponsive to her call.

I forced her to ignite the Star of Reason.

One, two, three.

She fell before my eyes like a shooting star, all to forcibly recall the [Fox Queen].

She was seriously injured but escaped the maze.

Her followers, however, were all dead.

I didn't kill him myself.

But I set traps, arranged enemies, and guided the battlefield.

I simply pressed the first domino.

When they fell, the entries did not completely disintegrate, and I absorbed them one by one. Though incomplete, they still nourished the [Boundless Evil Entanglement].

It whispered in my mind, like licking your fingers after a fine dinner:
“Truly…exquisite peeling.”

"Unfortunately, the sweetest dinner has jumped off the table."

At that moment, I stood at the entrance to the burned-out maze, watching her drag her wounded body away.

The fox flames swirled like fading light, her figure shattered in the smoke, pale yet still proud.

I murmured to myself:
"It's ok."

"Next time, it will be your turn to enjoy it."

I am a hunter.

I will hunt until the last card is extinguished.

I am Wang Yichen.

I am [X-13].

I am the vessel through which destiny transforms into godhood.

But what I care about more is not Xiao Lianyin, not the Fox Consort, not the six entries I have already devoured.

It's someone else.

—The God of Fate.

He wasn't in my group. He was behind another door, solving some separate secret quest or puzzle.

However, the [Boundless Evil Entanglement] trembled violently the moment it first appeared.

It was as if a string within me had been suddenly plucked, and a piercing yet thrilling resonance echoed deep within my consciousness.

I frowned and asked it in a low voice, "What is that?"

It screechs in my head, its sound like fingernails scraping against glass, trembling with excitement:
"That's not a regular card."

"That is the true card of the Lord of Destiny."

"Can you imagine? What if I could 'eat' that card..."

"I can then imitate the essence of fate."

That voice held a deep, unfathomable desire that sent shivers down my spine.

I was silent.

It was at that moment that I finally understood.

My goal from the very beginning was not to win, not to survive, and certainly not to escape this game.

It was the fate card he possessed.

I witnessed it burning in his hands, reversing the rules and rewriting cause and effect.

I've imagined that if I possessed it—I would be more than just a person of destiny.

I will become—the Cataclysm itself.

That night, von Blanc was defeated.

Before the smoke of battle had completely dissipated, I had already lurked in the ceiling projection of the "Melting Heart Mechanism Chamber" and activated the entry I had peeled from the body of a dead man: [Silent Shadow].

It was an extremely rare stealth term that could shield the mind of the Mystic at the "visual logic recognition layer".

Si Ming, Zhuang Yege, Vera, and others are setting up the final seal around von Blanc.

I wander in the blind spots of their consciousness, like a shadow or a spider.

Then, I reached out—

He touched the card fragments left behind by von Blanc.

In that instant, the [Boundless Evil Entanglement] exploded within my body, expanding into rings of scorching light, like shadows and fire, frantically surging into my character panel.

[Merged Entry: The Three Mysteries of Von Blanc - Completed]

My body trembled slightly, not from pain, but from the side effects of the information overload.

No—to be precise, it was some unnamed voice that echoed in my mind.

It is like the tide, like the storm, like the song of whales, like the resonance of machinery and prayer.

It has no physical form.

It has no language.

Its existence is constituted by "information entropy," a side effect that causes you to become distorted the moment you are observed.

It exists outside the system structure.

It is not a god.

It is a voice abandoned by God.

It was telling me:
"You are no longer... an individual."

"You are a tower of cards."

"A whispered clue."

"The protagonist of an unfinished story."

I knelt down on the ground, blood seeping from my eardrums.

I understand.

I didn't trigger the celestial calamity.

Instead—it chose me.

I was "recognized" by it.

The vessel that it marks as "usable".

It felt like in a pre-written narrative script, a blank page finally appeared with my name written on it.

Just one missing.

Just one card is missing.

I will then be able to complete the closed loop of self-narration.

I can make the entire mystery system recognize me as a "real being".

Not a "puzzle player".

It is not "number X-13".

Rather, it is—the complete God of Destiny.

At that moment, I finally stopped hesitating.

I'm not here to beat the game.

I didn't come here to escape.

I am not here to prove the will of humanity.

I came here to swallow this game whole.

I will disassemble every card, every system, and every line of fate, and incorporate them into my own identity.

I am the end of the script.

I am the unfinished ending.

"You stole someone else's card."
They stole other people's future.

They stole the outer garment left behind by the gods.

You think you're getting close to divinity?
Actually, the voice behind your back

Never said 'Who are you'

It only said: 'You are my projection.'

(End of this chapter)