RNP Chapter 27 Awakening
Chapter 27 Awakening
Why not try to actively devour it?
Instead of passively enduring the erosion, it actively uses it as nourishment, forcibly digesting, decomposing, and transforming it with the Blacklight Virus!
This is undoubtedly walking on the edge of a precipice. The sanity cost of devouring non-physical units is unknown, and the nature of corrupting willpower is extremely dangerous. Once out of control, he could be instantly corrupted and devoured, turning into a monster even more terrifying than the believers outside.
But he had no time left. The tremors of the genetic anchor were intensifying, and the burning sensation of pollution was spreading deep into his soul.
"call……"
Cheng Song exhaled a long breath of foul air, tinged with the smell of blood, his eyes hardening with determination.
Instead of resisting or channeling it, he proactively relaxed the genetic anchor's suppression of the most superficial layer of the polluting will. Like opening a small hole in a dam, the violent polluting energy instantly found an outlet, surging even more fiercely into his limbs and the depths of his mind.
Excruciating pain! Ten times more intense than before, the pain no longer affected his nerves, but directly burned his soul! Cheng Song's vision was torn apart by a crimson and darkness, and his ears were filled with the faint cracking sounds of bones on the verge of breaking.
The surging polluting energy was no longer a vague heat current; it transformed into billions of dark red thorns covered in barbs, frantically drilling and piercing his life essence, determined to completely stain his existence with the hue of despair. Within each energy pattern, a hysterical wail was sealed, a greedy, devouring malice.
Resistance... has reached its limit. Conventional blockades and diversions are like paper dams in the face of this torrent.
Just as his consciousness was about to be completely swallowed by pain and external malice, Cheng Song's last remaining sliver of clarity coalesced into a resolute will. He no longer protected himself, turning himself into the fuse and the arena of conflict.
He no longer resisted outwards with all his spirit, all his pain, and his indomitable will to survive, but instead turned inwards—slamming it fiercely into the deepest silence within his body, into the core that lay dormant like a black hole!
The pain of pollution that he was enduring, which was enough to annihilate his soul, and the intense desire to survive, were used as the most primal and violent signals and nourishment, directly crammed into the perception of that dormant thing!
It was like throwing a spark into a dead oil field.
"Click... snap..."
A silent crack emanated from the depths of the soul.
It's not an awakening of consciousness, but a roar of instinct! It's the activation of an apex predator's absolute survival and counterattack instincts when faced with a threat!
It sensed that Cheng Song—the "symbiotic" it depended on for survival—was being forcibly contaminated and assimilated by another violent and filthy force. This violated its most basic logic: it was always the one who devoured others, when did it become your turn to contaminate it?
"boom--!"
A cold, violent, and insatiable thirsting aura exploded forth, not in response to a call, but for self-defense and plunder. Black fluid gushed from every cell of Cheng Song, like billions of enraged black tentacles, with the most primal desire to devour, and fiercely pounced on the rampaging dark red thorns.
Two equally greedy, domineering, and possessive forces clashed directly and savagely within Cheng Song's body, which was on the verge of collapse!
"Ughhhhhh!"
Cheng Song finally couldn't hold back any longer and let out a low, painful roar. His body trembled violently, black and dark red light flashed alternately beneath his skin, and his veins bulged, as if countless tiny insects were wriggling and biting under his skin. His eyeballs were instantly covered with blood vessels, and his vision became blurred and chaotic.
Even more terrifying was the mental shock; the sanity drain from devouring non-physical units had begun. Countless noises exploded in his mind—painful wails, fanatical babbling, desperate curses, greedy demands… These were fragments of the minds of millions of believers contained within the corrupted willpower, now crashing against his conscious defenses like a tidal wave. Illusions began to appear before his eyes: burning villages, distorted faces, dripping blood-red talismanic water, and that half-gold, half-black, raging book!
He desperately clung to the last vestiges of clarity in his mind, frantically contemplating the image of the sun, moon, mountains, and rivers on the wall, a symbol of harmony between heaven and man. He silently recited the inscriptions on the bamboo slips: "Nourish your spirit with moderation and harmony" and "Uphold righteousness in your heart." He adjusted the humming frequency of the gene stabilization anchor to resonate with his own heartbeat and breathing. He was using every available means to guide the rampaging black light virus as it devoured and digested him.
This is a perilous war waged simultaneously on both the spiritual and physical levels.
Time has lost its meaning. Every second feels like an eternity.
After an unknown amount of time, just as Cheng Song felt his consciousness was about to be completely overwhelmed and torn apart by the endless negative fragments, the violent and dangerous internal forces within him finally gained the upper hand.
The awakened Blacklight Virus displayed terrifying digestive efficiency, amplified by its title. The dark red, contaminated willpower it had torn apart and devoured began to be rapidly decomposed and dismantled. The pure energy portion was stripped away and absorbed, replenishing Cheng Song's nearly exhausted physical strength, and even subtly propelling the Blacklight Virus itself through a slow transformation. Meanwhile, the chaotic and distorted fragments of spirit were forcibly suppressed, isolated, and slowly worn down by the power of the genetic anchor combined with Cheng Song's own willpower.
Although the efficiency is slow, the trend is good.
More importantly, in the process of devouring and decomposing these polluting aspirations, some fragmented images, like sediment rising to the surface, passively flow into the loose consciousness.
He "saw" something—
A much younger Taoist priest with bright and clear eyes was gathering herbs in the mountains and treating the villagers' illnesses, his eyes filled with compassion and hope.
An ancient scroll, radiating a gentle golden light, is reverently offered on the altar.
A devastating plague struck, leaving corpses strewn across the land. The Taoist priest knelt before the mountain of corpses, his eyes bloodshot, weeping blood as he looked up to the sky.
The Taoist priest opened the ancient book, using his own lifeblood as a conduit to communicate with heaven and earth, attempting to summon a more powerful force to save people, but inadvertently attracted the attention of those beyond the heavens...
The light of the ancient books began to become mottled, with murky black seeping into the gold. The Taoist's medical skills began to deteriorate, gradually turning into the short-sighted practice of "talismanic water."
As the number of believers grew, so did the power of their vows—desire, supplication, greed, fear… These vows, combined with the initial contamination, snowballed and eventually backfired on the holder. The Taoist tried to control it, but found himself deeply mired in the mire; the book was inextricably linked to his life and soul. Every time he used the contaminated power to save someone, the contamination deepened, and the more people he saved, the heavier the shackles of his vows became.
The image finally focuses on a pair of eyes. They are Zhang Jiao's eyes now, cloudy and weary, with madness and despair hidden deep within, but deepest still, there seems to be a faint trace of the compassion and pain that belonged to the herb-gathering Taoist of yesteryear.
These fragmented pieces of information gave Cheng Song a vague understanding of Zhang Jiao, Fu Shui, and the root cause of this tragedy.
Cheng Song collapsed to the ground, his body drenched in cold sweat, as if he had just been pulled from the water. He was breathing heavily, each breath burning with pain, but the scorching sensation of his soul being eroded and the crazy babbling in his mind had subsided considerably.
The state of deep pollution and erosion has not completely disappeared, but most of the most violent pollution energy has been devoured and initially digested by the Blacklight Virus, and the remaining part has been firmly suppressed by the genetic anchor, no longer posing an immediate threat.
The Blacklight Virus within him, after awakening from its slumber and successfully digesting the high concentration of contaminated energy, seemed to have undergone some changes. It became more condensed, and its instinct for perceiving and absorbing energy became more acute. Cheng Song felt his connection with it deepen, and controlling it seemed to become almost effortless.
He struggled to sit up, leaning against the cold stone wall, feeling the weakness and rebirth of the old and new forces within his body. Just then, the light in the meditation room distorted slightly, and an extremely faint, almost transparent phantom slowly condensed in front of the visualization diagram.
It's Zhang Jiao.
It was not a physical entity, but rather a projection formed from a wisp of condensed power. It was even more illusory than the one Cheng Song had seen at the meditation camp, its face blurred, only its eyes remaining clear, filled with complex weariness.
"You..." Zhang Jiao's illusory figure spoke, his voice echoing faintly in Cheng Song's mind, "You saw it?"
Cheng Song nodded silently, too weak to speak.
"Heh..." Zhang Jiao's phantom seemed to let out a very soft sigh.
For the next period of time, Zhang Jiao's phantom, in a tone so calm it was almost like narrating someone else's story, told Cheng Song the more complete and heavier truth behind that fragmented scene.
In his youth, he encountered a divine connection and vowed to save the world through medicine and Taoist magic. Initially, everything went smoothly; he healed the sick and wounded, and his reputation grew. Then came a year of great calamity, with rampant plague and corpses strewn across the land. He couldn't save them all; he truly couldn't. In despair, he attempted to use the deeper methods recorded in ancient books to pray to heaven and earth for greater power.
"Then, 'it' came." Zhang Jiao's phantom eyes were empty. "Or rather, 'it' had always been there, but I opened the door. That book... changed. Its power became stronger, and also easier. Drawing talismans and chanting incantations could alleviate pain and even make people feel refreshed in the short term. I thought I had found a shortcut, that it was a blessing from heaven."
"I was wrong. That power comes at a price. It draws not only the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, but also the will of people—the purest faith, hope, and desire. But the human heart is complex, and the will is impure. Greed, fear, delusion, resentment... all of these are absorbed and mixed into the power. At first, I could barely suppress it, but as more and more people joined, the will became increasingly complex, like a snowball rolling downhill..."
"By the time I realized something was wrong, the pollution had seeped into my very bones and was now inextricably linked to my life. If I didn't use this power, would I just watch more people die? If I did use it, the pollution would deepen, and this power would begin to spontaneously crave more and more 'efficient' access to the power of wishes... The appearance of the talisman water was not my intention, but it was the inevitable evolution of this polluted power along the most direct path of satisfying prayers and drawing upon the power of wishes."
"I have become a prisoner of this power, and the nexus of its spread. I save one person, but may harm ten. I tried to stop, but the prayers and reliance of millions of believers, and the backlash of this power itself... I can no longer turn back." The phantom's voice was filled with deep weariness. "Purification? I have tried countless times. But the pollution is already intertwined with the ailments of this world, the deep-seated illnesses of people's hearts, and even certain whispers from beyond the heavens, like a malignant tumor clinging to the bone. Unless I, who bear it, along with the very source of the willpower of these millions of believers who have been tainted by it, are completely destroyed..."
"But then, those million believers will be scattered and their souls will be destroyed as the source of their willpower collapses. Most of them are just pitiful people trying to survive in this chaotic world. And this Central Plains, without me as its last, deformed barrier, may be swallowed up by a deeper darkness even faster." Zhang Jiao looked at Cheng Song, his eyes filled with complex emotions. "I am barely clinging to life, using my body as a furnace and my soul as fuel, burning this corrupted book and myself to maintain a fragile balance and delay the arrival of that final end. At the same time... I am also searching, or rather, waiting."
"Waiting for a variable, waiting for an opportunity that can completely end all of this."
"I do not know who you are, nor what your intentions are," Zhang Jiao's phantom said finally, his voice barely audible. "Is this the opportunity to end all of this, or another, deeper calamity...? I am powerless to discern, nor do I care to discern."
"I've walked this road for too long, I'm too tired, and I can't see the light anymore."
The phantom vanished completely, as if it had never existed.
Just as Cheng Song was processing the suffocating despair and heaviness in Zhang Jiao's words, the cold system notification reappeared in his mind, this time with unprecedented formality and clarity:
Main quest "Investigate the Truth Behind the Talisman Water" has been completed.
Based on some understanding of the key figure "Zhang Jiao" and the pollution at the bottom of this world, a core choice quest for this world has now been triggered:
【Mission Name: Embers of the Flame】
[Mission Description: You have glimpsed the tragic truth behind the "Great Teacher" Zhang Jiao and the "Yellow Heaven" faith—a story interwoven with the ideal of salvation, the decline of humanity, alien contamination, and desperate perseverance. The scales of the world are tipping; you must make a choice.]
Option 1: Purify the world
[Path: Kill Zhang Jiao and completely destroy the "Taiping Qingling Book," which has been corrupted within him and serves as the core link between the spread of corruption and the believers. This action can trigger a chain reaction, purifying some of the corruption that has spread to the Central Plains due to this book and Zhang Jiao, extending the life of civilization on this land by a century, and giving it a chance to breathe.]
[Zhang Jiao's soul will be scattered, and the souls of all Yellow Turban believers deeply bound to the *Taiping Qingling Shu* and Zhang Jiao's vows will be annihilated due to the collapse of the root of that vow. This act is essentially a complete excision of the "lesion," along with the elimination of all infected "tissue" surrounding it.]
Option Two: To save the world with one's own body
[Path: Assist Zhang Jiao in completing the final ritual he failed to fully accomplish. Zhang Jiao uses himself as a cage, taking into his body the mixed vows and defilements of these million believers, as well as the celestial whispers entangled in that book. He then seals and suppresses these with his own will and the remaining purification chapters of the *Taiping Qingling Shu*. Zhang Jiao will transform into a "god among men," neither alive nor dead, permanently suppressing this place, forming a barrier to resist deeper external intrusions.]
Zhang Jiao will forever endure the corrosive influence of the day-and-night wails, pleas, resentments, and polluted whispers of millions of souls. Conscious, yet unable to live, unable to die, until eternity. This barrier is not absolute, and its very existence is a source of immense suffering.
Please note: Your choices will determine the course of this world and may trigger unpredictable chain reactions. Please make your decisions carefully.
Cheng Song sat quietly on the cold stone ground, watching the pale blue system text in front of him slowly fade away.
Purifying the world, at the cost of a million souls being scattered, in exchange for a hundred years of respite? It sounds like the most rational and efficient solution. Excise the lesion, even if it means removing a large chunk of healthy tissue along with it.
He sacrificed himself to suppress the world, subjecting a soul already to a century of torment to eternal, lucid torture, all in order to establish a painful barrier from an extraterrestrial evil god.
The system provides two options, one or the other.
But Cheng Song looked at his hands, which had just struggled out of the deep pollution, and felt the Blacklight Virus within his body awakening, becoming more thirsty, and seemingly more controllable.
A vague idea gradually took shape in his mind.
Perhaps... there is a third path? A path that the system did not provide, and that Zhang Jiao could not even imagine.
He needs verification; he needs more information.
Cheng Song leaned against the wall and slowly stood up. After the absorption and digestion just now, although he was weak, the feeling of being on the verge of collapse had subsided by most, and the awakening of the Blacklight Virus also allowed him to recover rapidly.
He walked to the door of the meditation room and took one last look at the visualization of the sun, moon, mountains and rivers on the wall and the fragment of the bamboo slips on the ground that read "Cultivating Harmony and Righteousness".
Then, he turned around and walked out of the ancient temple without looking back, heading towards the refugee camp outside Julu City, a place shrouded in despair.
He needs to conduct an experiment first.