Forgotten Photo Studio

Chapter 107 Hatred and Respect

The iron coffin area is "dead".

It wasn't the deathly silence after destruction, but rather like an insect instantly sealed in by a drop of resin, frozen in an indefinable moment.

When Xu Yan regained his senses inside the drill arm, the first thing he noticed was weightlessness.

It wasn't floating, but rather a heart-stopping three-second vacuum delay between the command and execution of his movement as he attempted to propel the heavy metal body.

It was as if his consciousness was a pebble thrown into a deep well, and it would take a long time before the faint echo could be heard.

He "looked" around:

The broken lighting crystal stopped falling and remained suspended in mid-air, as if embedded in invisible amber.

The bursting psionic arc remained menacing until its final, grotesque moment, like a grotesque mural painted with lightning.

The air was filled with the smell of burning and blood, but the smell had solidified and was no longer dissipating; it was so strong that it was suffocating, as if it were sealed in wax.

No sound.

Absolute silence oppresses the auditory sensors.

He couldn't hear the sound of his own breathing, nor the humming of the prosthetic body's internal workings.

But something deeper penetrated the silence and struck his consciousness directly.

A slow, heavy pulse, like the pulse of some colossal creature turning over underground.

thump...

thump...

That wasn't a sound; it was the heartbeat of space.

deep.

He understood immediately.

The seal did not kill it.

He lifted the metal hand of the drill arm and tried to move his fingers.

This simple action produced a faint "click" sound, like the gears of an old clock being forcibly turned and then stuck.

Beside him, a twisted metal table remained half-broken.

He walked past the distorted conference table.

The judge's corpse lay amidst the shattered golden lightning and solidified shadows.

Xu Yan stood there, his cold electronic eyes locked on the no longer moving body.

The sensors transmit every detail back precisely:
The terrifying, charred golden crack on his chest still retained a chilling spiritual pressure;
That face, which was always covered with coldness and majesty, was now as pale as paper, and its eyes were tightly closed.

Hatred, like a venomous snake that had been lying in wait, immediately raised its head.

It's him.

This man is Jiang Yu.

The father's disciple, the most trusted successor, delivered the most fatal blow from behind at the most crucial moment.

If it weren't for his betrayal, why would his father, Xu Haoyu, have been devoured by "Abyss" and suffered such a tragic end?

Why was Xu Yan destined to become this damned "container" from birth?
And that damned "nursing home cleanup operation" was clearly a trap set by the judge himself to completely eliminate him, this unstable factor!

The enemy, right before my eyes, is dead.

A mixture of the exhilaration of finally getting revenge and the cold mockery of fate welled up in Xu Yan's heart.

He almost manipulated the metal body, emitting a non-human sound that was somewhere between a sneer and a sob.

You orchestrated all of this, trying to use me as a pawn, as trash to be disposed of.

But now, the person lying there is you.

It's true that I released Yuan, but wasn't it you, your filthy "center," who forced me to this point?

Jiang Yu, in the end, you died at my hands.

However… his “gaze” swept over the judge’s hand, which was still slightly outstretched as if trying to build a defensive line even in death, and over the lightning patterns on his body that, even though they were broken, still tried to shine.

This man, at the last moment, did not choose to flee or shirk responsibility.

He used his own body as a monument, attempting to prevent the disaster from happening here.

He lived out his beliefs about "order" and "walls" until his last drop of blood was burned.

A completely different, heavy emotion, like a depth charge, exploded deep within Xu Yan's consciousness.

That's a sign of respect.

An indelible respect for a warrior who truly lived up to his beliefs until his death.

absurd.

He actually felt a sliver of respect for the very source of all his suffering.
Just now, witnessing the moment when Yuan was about to possess his body, he even... even had an even more absurd impulse:

If I could return to my own body, if I could regain control, wouldn't I be able to... lend him a hand?
The thought flashed through his mind, but it sent a shiver of self-loathing through him.

Hatred and respect, the joy of revenge and the tragedy of sacrifice—two completely opposite emotions tore and churned wildly in his heart.

He clenched his fist tightly around the metal drill arm, his knuckles making a creaking sound as he struggled to keep up with the strain.

In the end, all emotions settled into a cold, lifeless silence.

He slowly loosened his fist and stopped looking at the corpse.

Judge Jiang Yu has brought this feud to an end with his death.

Now, while he is still alive, he has more important things to do.

At the very bottom of the iron coffin area, a blurry black figure was slowly "breathing".

With each breath, the brightness of the entire space dims a little.

—Yuan is eating.

Xu Yan understood:

The seal is not the end, but a buffer to delay the disaster.

He looked up and saw that beyond the crack in the ceiling, time in the outer world flowed slowly like a viscous liquid.

"Time flows slower here than outside... The 24-hour limit of the Co-existence Mirror might be extended." He analyzed calmly, this might be the only favorable condition.

Immediately afterwards, all his attention returned to the cold metal box inside his chest cavity—the Ω Files.

It is it.

The records left by his father, the origin of "Yuan", the answer to his own destiny... all the mysteries may be sealed inside.

He carefully manipulated the drill arm with his right hand to remove the Ω file from the internal storage compartment.

The metal box was icy to the touch, its surface covered with incomprehensible spirit-blocking runes, and it exuded an aura of inviolability even in the frozen air.

It is it.

Xu Yan's consciousness was almost trembling.

After searching for so long, struggling for so long, and even paying such a heavy price, the truth is right before his eyes, right in his hands.

At this moment, the prosthetic fingers of the drill arm, forged from high-quality steel, actually transmitted a very subtle, almost "trembling" damping sensation.

It was no longer clear whether it was the body's instinctive excitement or the turmoil of his own soul.

He tried to connect to the file box's interface using his will, but what he got in return was a seamless wall of permissions.

Undeterred, he invoked the drill arm's highest decryption protocol, unleashing a powerful surge of psionic energy that crashed into the box, only to vanish without a trace, creating a faint ripple around the runes before failing to elicit any further reaction.

A sense of anxiety welled up inside me.

A fierce glint flashed in his eyes, and the massive drill prosthetic on his left arm suddenly activated, emitting a deep roar.

He pressed the sharpest point of the drill bit against what appeared to be the weakest connection in the file box.

"Let me... open it!"

(End of this chapter)