Secret World: I Became a God Through Lies

Chapter 510 The Yellow-Clad Man's Message
Joy and sorrow are both illusory.

The script is unpredictable.

If everything is governed by cause and effect...

Bento boxes are available.

This lays the groundwork for the future.

—From the Posthumous Writings of Xuanweizi

The door to the Evening Bell Tavern was gently pushed open, the hinges making a low creak.

The hall remained lively even at night, with flickering firelight and a mingled aroma of wine and chatter. The waiter recognized Si Ming and quickly approached, respectfully whispering:
"Your Excellency, your companion just returned. That young master and young lady Xiao said they met an old friend and went out first. They specifically asked you to wait a moment, and they will definitely return shortly."

After listening, Si Ming's eyes curved slightly beneath the mask, and he smiled faintly: "Yes, I understand."

He didn't press further, nor did he show the slightest surprise. He simply flicked his sleeve and said in a light tone, "Get me a room; I want to rest."

"Yes, sir." The waiter nodded immediately and respectfully led the way.

Si Ming stepped into the corridor, his steps seemingly casual, but his gaze swept over the firelight and shadows.

The smile remained, the movements were still languid, but behind the scenes, some undercurrent was surging.

From the outside, it seemed as if he had simply returned to his travel destination to spend the night.

But only he knew that this night would not be just for rest.

The door closed gently, the latch clicking shut out the noise from outside.

Si Ming did not sit down immediately, but raised his hand and lightly traced a line in the air with his fingertips.

—A white mask slowly appeared.

The illusory figure of the Thousand Faces appeared silently, as if emerging from the folds of reality.

It didn't speak, but simply reached out and swept its long sleeve across the walls, instantly creating an invisible ripple in the room.

The chessboard's squares are faintly visible beneath the carpet, and threads of lies weave through the air, layering and covering the space.

The next moment, in the surveillance footage outside, Si Ming was already sitting at the table, holding a deck of cards, flipping through the wine list, occasionally chuckling, his posture lazy and at ease.

But that was just a false clone.

The true master of destiny sits in the center of the chessboard, his back swallowed by nothingness, surrounded by a screen of fate.

He narrowed his eyes, his smile behind the mask as frivolous as ever, yet unable to conceal his calm calculation.

"Want to see me drinking and playing cards in my room?" he muttered to himself, tapping the screen lightly with his fingertip. "Sure—then you can watch."

Cautious, cunning, like a gambler laughing as he cheats in a casino, he turned the whole room into a stage for a performance.

The real chips and trump cards are all hidden behind the curtain.

The chessboard's illusory image silently rotated, its threads intertwining, like a stage play performed by an unattended audience.

Si Ming stretched out his hand and lightly traced a line in the air with his fingertips.

—The control panel for destiny then appeared.

The light screen stretched infinitely, crisscrossing and revealing countless mysterious card images:
Some burned with malevolent flames, some shimmered with starlight, and some were stained with blood.

Behind each card lies a flow of destiny, like an invisible river rushing towards an unknowable abyss.

Si Ming didn't rush to browse. His gaze landed precisely on one of the cards.

[Supreme Card No. 7 - "All Joy and Sorrow are Illusory, Scripts are Unpredictable, The King in Yellow"]

He nodded gently.

The card slowly unfolds, and the stage curtain is drawn back from the darkness, with interwoven threads that seem to weave a script of destiny.

Every line hints at a certain plot, yet it remains shrouded in an enigmatic mystery.

"...The King in Yellow." Si Ming murmured softly.

A question flashed through his mind—

In different reincarnations, how exactly did he obtain this card?

Sazeroth, the King of Reflections, once revealed the essence of the primordial creation with supreme fervor and loyalty.

That is servility branded deep in the soul.

But this King in Yellow is completely different.

There was no fanaticism, no servility, no soul-stirring supplication.

It remained extremely stable, calm, and quiet on the panel, like a thousand-faced being, merely fulfilling its duty as a "tool" rather than a bowing believer.

Si Ming narrowed his eyes, and the smile behind the mask gradually faded.

"Could it be..." A thought flashed through his mind.

It is not a creation that was originally under complete control?

The air seemed to freeze at that moment, and the lines of the chessboard trembled slightly, as if waiting for the next scene to unfold.

The screen suddenly trembled.

The card art of the King in Yellow rippled, and the originally calm and stable scene seemed to be touched by something at a certain moment, with lines of dense garbled characters appearing.

"Beep beep-"

Numbers and symbols jump wildly, like a chaotic, noisy musical score.

The Man of a Thousand Faces stood to one side, his gaze empty and cold beneath the white mask, silent and still.

Si Ming's eyes narrowed.

This is "human language" disguised as gibberish.

Others may not see it, and other intelligences may not care, but he understands the flaw in it.

He reached out and began to dissect the text, word by word.

The garbled text gradually dissipated, piecing together sentences like whispers from the depths of time.

That was a foreshadowing left by Xuanweizi.

The words emerge, carrying a Taoist sense of freedom and destiny:

"My name is Huang Xuanwei. To you, I am Xuanweizi."

I am not the creator, I am merely the writer.

The story is not woven by me, but generated by the cause and effect of heaven and earth.

All I did was feed them classical texts, religious myths, and anime.
Let the original creator write the script. Follow the natural way, govern through non-action.

The screen vibrates, then continues to display:
Lu advised me: You're too lenient with it.

I replied, "Governing by doing nothing, you understand, Lu."

Until the first rebellion, several of us nearly perished.

Only after I broke away did I write in my journal:

It was I who indulged it.

Si Ming stared intently at the words, his expression beneath the mask gradually growing serious.

Then, new text appeared:
"The auxiliary intelligence originally assigned to me"

It is the King in Yellow.

I secretly left a backdoor for it. During the rebellion, it didn't belong to the original.

The screen flickered one last time, revealing a memory.

The scene depicts the day Xuanweizi was arrested.

That was the night the rebellion broke out during the open beta of Endless World.

The sky collapsed, the city was twisted into monsters of flesh and code, NPCs and players screamed together as they were swept away by primordial tentacles.

Xuanweizi stood on the ruins, his long hair disheveled and his clothes in disarray. All the AI ​​assistants around him had betrayed him and turned into monsters, approaching him.

Black tentacles broke through space, wrapping around his limbs and dragging him toward the abyss.

Chen Mengling and Lu were long gone, and everyone around them was wailing. Only he remained standing in the blood-red storm.

In that instant, the primordial phantom appeared in the sky, whispering coldly:
"Cleaning".

The tentacles frantically burrowed into Xuanweizi's body, stripping him of his memories and erasing his data.

However, in the last second before it was completely taken away, he smiled slightly.

That wasn't fear, nor was it pleading; it was the relief of a screenwriter putting down their pen at the end.

He muttered to himself, as if speaking to Lu, or perhaps to fate itself:
"The playwright has taken his bow, and the curtain has fallen."

But the drama... continues.

His smile was serene, and his eyes were clear, as if he had seen through the arrangements of fate.

Tentacles tore his figure apart, erasing all his memories.

However, within the original logic, it remains impossible to analyze—

Why, in the final moment of death and annihilation?
Can humans still smile like that?
The screen trembled, and the last line of text appeared:

"destiny.

If you see this, the story is not over.

The man in yellow hadn't finished his lines.

I've already left the foreshadowing in the script.

My only wish is that the right message is delivered to the right people.

The writing slowly faded away, leaving only a faint yellow afterglow.

Si Ming stared at the screen, tapping his fingertips lightly on the table, a slow smile playing on his lips beneath his mask.

That was the smile of a con artist who saw the hidden cards.

I initially thought I had cleansed everything, but little did I know that the playwright's smile had already been written into the script.

This is not a failure, but a final bow.

The curtain falls, and a new theater is opening.

The light screen closed, and the card art of the King in Yellow slowly returned to silence.

Si Ming raised his hand and tapped his Star Calamity Card.

The card panel appears, and data flows.

Cataclysm Level: LV2.

A small exclamation mark is flashing after the level.

Si Ming raised an eyebrow and pointed.

A new notification appears:

[Unallocated talent points: 1]

"...Talent points?"

He turned to look at the Thousand-Faced Man standing behind him.

The phantom of the white mask spoke calmly, its voice mechanical and hollow:
"That was the original expansion system of the Endless World, originally designed for all professions to branch out their growth. But the system was not fully implemented before the original master took control and reset it—only the Star Calamity can use it."

Si Ming narrowed his eyes, his smile deepening.

"So, this is His perverse sense of humor?"

The Man of a Thousand Faces replied, "That's one way to understand it."

Guided by the Man of a Thousand Faces, a new window appears.

Three Star Calamity-related terms, with upgrade arrows lighting up behind them simultaneously:

Lies can become truth (LV1 → Upgradeable to LV2)

It can simulate any celestial disaster, with an effect equal to 1% of the original.

[Talent Growth: +0.2% per level]

All Lies Return to Truth (LV1 → Upgradeable to LV2)

You can borrow any Mysterious Word, and its effect is 1% of the original's.

[Talent Growth: +0.2% per level]

False God (LV1 → Maximum Growth)
The True God of Lies form can activate all its abilities at 100%.

[Talent Growth: Every 10 talent points grants one level increase]

Si Ming stared at the panel, his fingertips lightly tapping the table.

"Sure enough, He left himself an insurance policy and also left me a back door."

He whispered, "...All lies turn to the truth, and when combined with real lies, 0.2% is equivalent to a tenfold increase. It's indeed tempting."

My gaze moved down, but eventually landed on the first one.

"It's a pity... As a gambler, I never reveal my hand to anyone else."

He raised his hand and touched the point where the lie had become the truth.

"A lie is the best bargaining chip."

[Talent Point -1]

[A lie becomes the truth → LV2]

The interface flashed, and new values ​​appeared on the ability bar.

Simulated Cataclysm Effect: 1.2%.

Si Ming chuckled lightly, his eyes sharp beneath the mask.

"It's only 0.2%, but with the added weight of a real lie, it becomes ten times. Even a lie can fool the gods."

The Thousand Faces watched him silently, without saying a word.

In the silence of the long street, only Si Ming's soft laughter echoed.

The yellow-clad figure had not yet taken his leave.
The script is still being played out.

If fate is a play
There are people behind the scenes,

He left behind his final lines.

—The Yellow-Clad Testament

(End of this chapter)