Chapter 66: Ambers of the Long Night (22)
The high-altitude wind whipped against Tang Mobai’s face like knives, stinging with every gust.
He held Deville tightly in his arms, then sensed two more people leaping down behind him. Straining to twist midair, he saw it was Yan Wuzhen and Seth jumping after them — his chest flooded with a rush of complicated emotion, equal parts shock and gratitude.
Seth could fly. He had carried them before during the Revival match. Now, he quickly slung Yan Wuzhen onto his back, his legs folding as energy jets flared beneath him. For a moment, he managed to slow their fall — but then his whole body lurched downward again.
Yan Wuzhen looked down and saw deep gashes across Seth’s legs. His mind went blank for a moment. “When did you get hurt?!”
“When I went to help Tang Mobai earlier,” Seth replied, an error window flickering before his eyes as his mechanical legs lost power. The energy output was weakening fast — he could barely keep them from plummeting straight down.
Yan Wuzhen’s chest tightened in panic, but there was nothing he could do. In just a few seconds, they had already fallen far behind Tang Mobai and Deville — even his longest spider silk couldn’t reach them.
Tang Mobai realized immediately that something had gone wrong when no help came. He tightened his arms around the child and asked softly, “Are you scared?”
Deville clung to his waist and lifted his small face. The crimson in his eyes, once murky and dark, now shone clear and bright like a gemstone washed clean. “I’m not scared.”
Not only unafraid — there was even a strange sweetness blooming in his chest. Death, to him, wasn’t something he couldn’t accept.
At that moment, a quiet understanding dawned in his heart — it wasn’t that he feared dying. He just didn’t want to die alone.
But now, someone had crossed the veil of time and memory to catch him. Even if death awaited them below, Deville felt no regret.
He knew fate had never favored him. To receive such precious affection in return for so little warmth — he could not be greedy for more. If he asked for too much, he might lose what little he had gained.
This is enough, he thought. If we die together at the happiest moment… maybe that’s the best ending of all.
“Then close your eyes,” Tang Mobai murmured.
Deville obediently shut them tight.
Tang Mobai glanced at his inventory and materialized the red mage’s cloak. He wrapped it tightly around the two of them, binding them together. When he finished, the ground was still some distance away — steep rooftops sloped below, but far from where they would land. There was no soft grass or cushioning surface in sight.
His remaining equipment: a reinforced three-section staff, a few stink bombs, smoke bombs, flash grenades, explosives, firearms, a stat-boosted combat knife, and several alchemy ingredients. None of it could soften a fall like this.
At this velocity, if they hit the ground directly — they’d turn into pulp.
Tang Mobai opened the Demon Mall and searched for a parachute. There was one — 200 points. Ropes, blankets, or cushions were cheaper, but still cost at least 50 points. Unfortunately, he had just spent all his points. His account balance was zero.
In the real world, the team of experts watching the feed noticed the crisis and began pacing anxiously. Hua An bit her lip hard, eyes fixed on the falling figure on the screen.
They could offer Tang Mobai any advice he needed — except points.
Meanwhile, the chat exploded with reactions:
[Serves you right for wasting so many points on that NPC before!]
[Exactly! You spent points for nothing. Now you can’t even afford a parachute.]
[Cut it out. In that situation, who could think rationally? The guy was saving someone’s life.]
[He’s just an NPC! Even if he saves him, it’s pointless. They’re literally virtual!]
[I said it long ago — this streamer’s gonna die from his own compassion. No way he survives Lost Paradise.]
[And saving a kid now? What a joke. What’s next, saving everyone? You some kind of saint?]
Tang Mobai ignored the chatter. With Deville secured to him, he freed his hands — a bomb in his left hand, a combat knife in his right — and focused on the rapidly approaching ground.
There had once been a rumor on Earth: a soldier supposedly survived falling from the stratosphere because a bomb exploded beneath him, cushioning the impact. Of course, it was nonsense — in reality, the blast would have killed him instantly. But right now, if nothing else worked, Tang Mobai could at least shield Deville with his body. Maybe the boy could live.
Then — his points flickered.
0 ? 30 ? 50 ? 70…
[ID92345]: “Tipping 10 points.”
[ID82947]: “10 points.”
[ID78402]: “20 points.”
The donations weren’t large, but they came fast.
Some viewers cursed at the donors — “idiots feeding the fool,” “you broke losers encouraging him” — but others fired back:
[Yeah, we’re broke. So what? Thanks to him, we don’t pay the guild’s food tax. We can spare a few points.]
[We’re poor, sure, but watching you get mad about it makes it worth it. Salty yet?]
[Can’t help much, but 200 points? That we can handle.]
[Not like we adore the guy — just want to see the Guild choke on this.]
[Thanks to everyone donating anyway.]
[Yeah — he helped us, and if he dies for a measly 200 points, that’s pathetic. Don’t insult us like that.]
[Ever heard of the Fuguang Guild, huh?]
A faint smile tugged at Tang Mobai’s lips — but he quickly schooled his face into focus. “Deville, bend your legs. Protect your head and vital spots.”
Deville blinked in confusion but obeyed.
The ground was now terrifyingly close — just three or four hundred meters away, seconds from impact. They were well within the range of extreme low-altitude parachuting.
Tang Mobai glared at the ground, forcing himself to remember the sensation of the buff Yan Wuzhen had once cast on him.
The chat was right — it was only a 200-point hurdle.
No way I’m dying here.
Faces flashed before his eyes — Red Duke, the members of Jade Society — fueling the fire rising inside him. The world around him seemed to slow. Power surged through his veins again.
He dismissed the knife and bomb — and at the exact moment his points hit 200, a massive red parachute burst open behind him.
Their fall jerked violently to a near stop. The sudden deceleration slammed his insides; he could feel something shift painfully within his chest.
But it wasn’t over yet — the buffer distance was too short, the shock still too strong.
Heart sinking, Tang Mobai swiftly exchanged for a cotton mattress.
It materialized just as they hit.
Tang Mobai twisted midair, wrapping Deville in his arms. His back crashed hard against the padded ground. He heard — and felt — the crisp crack of breaking vertebrae.
Then everything went black.
At that moment, by the time Emmanuel and his group arrived at the venue of the academic conference, the entire place was in shambles. Gravity had returned to normal, and the Queen stood at the center, smiling gently as she soothed the panicked and frightened crowd who had just regained consciousness.
“Your Majesty!” Nahem, upon seeing Opatra, could no longer pay any attention to Emmanuel. He hurried to her side. “What happened? Are you all right?”
Opatra shook her head, and only then did Nahem let out a breath of relief before finally looking around the site.
“This…”
Before him, the venue had almost completely collapsed. The scholars present were either injured or in shock, and emergency medical robots were rushing to tend to the wounded. The scene was utterly miserable.
Nahem’s throat felt dry. “Was this… Tu Xiao’s doing?”
“Yes.” Queen Opatra sighed, a bitter smile flickering across her face as she looked up at the “Lost City” suspended in the sky. “Nahem.”
“I’m here,” Nahem immediately snapped out of his daze, forcing his eyes away from the sky. “I’ll call a press conference right away—to explain the situation, especially the Blue Sky Society’s attack. Luckily, there are so many scholars and experts here—they can offer explanations about what’s happening in the sky, help us control public opinion. We’ll suspend online access temporarily until everything blows over—”
He trailed off, because Opatra was gazing quietly at him with those deep, beautiful black eyes.
“Nahem… you’ve known for a long time that this world is virtual, haven’t you?”
The words Nahem wanted to say caught in his throat. After a long pause, he replied softly, “And what’s wrong with that?”
Virtual doesn’t necessarily mean wrong, does it? Wanting to dream a peaceful, undisturbed dream in one’s final moments—is that such an unforgivable sin? Why must those people insist on waking everyone up?
If death is such an unbearable pain, why force people to remember that they are not themselves—that their real selves have already died?
When there’s no power to change the reality, isn’t awakening only needless suffering?
Besides…
“Is that so?” Opatra turned toward him, for the first time truly studying the man who had stayed by her side all these years. The cool blue glow of data light shimmered across her lips as she smiled faintly. “Thank you, Nahem—for staying with me, for helping me, for believing in me.”
That faint smile vanished almost as soon as it appeared, but it made Nahem’s eyes widen slowly in disbelief.
Al would never smile like that—he was sure of it. Never before had he been so certain—his childhood friend, the one he’d loved in silence all these years, was right there before him.
“But it’s almost over now. Thank you for your hard work, Nahem.”
Nahem blinked, suddenly panicking. “Why? Did I do something wrong?”
“You didn’t,” Opatra said calmly. “It’s just that I won’t be queen much longer. Public opinion can’t be contained anymore. She’s already prepared for this. The chaos will begin soon.”
While Emmanuel couldn’t find Tang Mobai and the others anywhere in the venue—and didn’t dare approach Opatra to reveal himself—he took advantage of Nahem’s distraction to quietly search the area. After two rounds around the site, he keenly picked up traces left behind by Tu Xiao. After a moment’s thought, he followed the trail.
Sure enough, before long, he found Tu Xiao’s back in a deserted corner. Her neck was wrapped in bandages, and her body bore several wounds, but overall she seemed to have escaped intact.
“Tu Xiao…”
“Long time no see, Eman.” Tu Xiao turned, smiling faintly. “You really still remember our old signal.”
Emmanuel frowned. “What exactly did you do? What’s with that Lost City in the sky?”
“As you can see, my goal has never changed.” Tu Xiao looked up calmly at the inverted city above. “I want to see a free sky—even if it means facing true death. That was Blue Sky Society’s founding goal.”
“But you’ve gone too far. Do you even realize what kind of consequences this will cause?!”
Emmanuel didn’t need to check to know how much public outrage was boiling outside. The issue of the Lost City had always been shrouded in ambiguity. Now that the city literally hung upside down in the heavens, even people who normally ignored the matter would start suspecting something was wrong.
Every time the Lost City appeared, people who got too close would contract the “Syndrome”—because contact with familiar things triggered buried memories of their deaths. That was why only certain mercenary groups were allowed entry—vetted to minimize infection risk.
“Of course I know,” Tu Xiao said coolly. “Once the false veil is torn apart and more people awaken, chaos will spread—and then the Queen will abdicate. Isn’t that your goal too?”
Emmanuel froze. “What are you talking about?”
“Recently, the Inspection Bureau caught a group of people,” Tu Xiao continued. “They had no chips—no records of ever existing. And coincidentally, you happen to have a bunch of such people by your side… including a supposed genius in scientific research. You expect me not to guess what you’re planning?”
“But you should also know—under the Wise King’s rule, unless she makes a grave mistake causing her level to fall, the Super Intelligence Core will never transfer to someone else.”
Tu Xiao stared at him quietly. “Your plan is to use those people to seize the Super Intelligence Core and verify this world’s truth, right? But in the end, you’d still have to deal with Opatra—the biggest obstacle. And the Wise King never makes mistakes, nor can she be killed. Every ruler only abdicates when their body can no longer bear the Core’s load.”
“And the previous Wise King… never appeared again.”
“If I hadn’t acted this time, don’t tell me you planned to just wait until she reached her limit?”
When Emmanuel fell silent, Tu Xiao smiled thinly. “Coward. Just like always.”
“So your entire plan—the attack on the conference, forcing the Queen to use her computation power to save people, pushing the system toward collapse—was all to accelerate the world’s breakdown? Because if chaos erupts under the Queen’s reign, that means she’s lost control as ruler.” Emmanuel exhaled slowly as the picture came together. “But even if things go your way and Opatra abdicates, you’ll never inherit the Super Intelligence Core.”
There was no doubt—Tu Xiao was the mastermind behind this terrorist attack. The massive loss of public property would plummet her ranking instantly. Even if an inheritance ceremony was held, the next ruler would be chosen from those with high authority remaining—certainly not her.
…Unless she had another candidate under her control—someone like Tang Mobai and the others?
“You think I’m pinning my hopes on outsiders like you?” Tu Xiao shook her head and unwrapped the bandages at the back of her neck.
Emmanuel gasped sharply.
Her normal human skin was gone. In its place were intricate mechanical components—a black-gold artificial spine embedded in the faint traces of flesh, reaching up into her skull, half of which had been replaced with metal. Two chips were set into the structure—one already burned out. Tu Xiao reached back, pulled it out, and crushed it.
“You think you’re the only one who knows how to exploit the Core’s loopholes?” she asked. “You may have been the smartest of us, Emmanuel, but when it comes to AI and computation—you could only score 100 because that’s all the test allowed. I could have gone beyond that.”
Her earlier appearance before the Queen had been deliberate—to let the Super Intelligence Core lock onto her identity. In reality, she had two chips: one her original, and one blank one she had prepared since the start of her plan.
“My level is still 90,” she said. “I still qualify to inherit the Core. And I’ve modified my data—once the Core transfers into me, I can maintain consciousness long enough to negotiate with it.”
Emmanuel finally found his voice again. “Negotiate?”
“Yes. I’ve built a self-destruct program into my system. After the transfer, the Core will have a short cooldown—it won’t be able to move to another host immediately. I can use that window to threaten it.” She smiled faintly. “After all, we don’t even know what’s really outside. If this is a rebellion of the Super Intelligence itself, maybe it’s been lying to us. Maybe the outside world isn’t destroyed—that some humans survived. Maybe even our memories of awakening are false, and our real bodies are still alive.”
“Of course… that’s the best-case scenario. Even I’m not that naïve.”
“…And if you’re wrong?” Emmanuel asked quietly.
Tu Xiao was silent for a moment. “Then at least I’ll know the truth.”
Emmanuel let out a dry laugh and rubbed his hair. “Nahem’s description of us was right after all—a coward and a selfish lunatic.”
“Maybe. But if we could get along, doesn’t that say something about him too?” Tu Xiao teased lightly, then added, “Come on, Eman. Help me. I know who you’re looking for—but they fell into the Lost City during the last incident. The inside of the Lost City is the only place the Core can’t touch—a true bug zone. Even if they survived, you can’t count on them to overthrow the Super Intelligence.”
Emmanuel fell silent for a long time before sighing. “You don’t understand them… or what stands behind them. Tu Xiao—you’ve done something far more dangerous than you realize.”
He trusted Tang Mobai and his group, but he had always been wary of the power behind them.
And now—the world’s chaos was the perfect opportunity for the devil to slip in.
Thank you for reading 🙂 I hope you all liked my translations. If you enjoyed my work, please consider buying me a Ko-Fi 😉
