Chapter 887: The Sacrifice of the Red Moon

Let the more than thirty years since the Red Moon Incident become a living nightmare…

When the Old Director spoke, everyone present felt a shudder in their souls and a deafening ringing in their ears.

They understood the literal meaning of his words, yet it only deepened their sense of confusion.

That confusion couldn’t erase the shock that surged straight into their minds—a jolt like an electric shock causing every nerve to spasm.

“You…”

So stunned was Lu Xin that he stayed silent, while Number Fourteen jumped and blurted out:

“What did you do?”

“…”

“It’s simple…”

The Old Director looked at him gently.

That look made Number Fourteen feel as if he had asked the wrong question, and he instinctively recoiled.

Yet the Old Director’s voice, clear and methodical, reached his ears: “The Primordial Force can be exchanged through sacrifice. Even before the Red Moon Incident, those selfish mysterious organizations had discovered this principle.”

“If that’s so, why can’t we trade with even more efficient methods to secure greater power?”

“First Researcher, my mentors—they studied this issue, but in the end, they gave up…”

“Because they believed it would only intensify the coming of the Primordial and be utterly futile.”

“But maybe they just lacked the courage…”

“…”

The Old Director explained in a soft voice: “If we sacrifice enough to herald an era’s arrival, to borrow the Primordial Force to reshape the world before the Red Moon Incident—revitalizing those who hadn’t yet experienced it—can we not then say that the Red Moon Incident, and this desolate world that followed, never truly existed?”

“And by consuming enough of the Primordial Force through such sacrifice, wouldn’t it also cease to bring destruction to this world?”

“You see…”

The Old Director smiled and casually spread his hands: “It’s just a matter of folding it up—the problem is solved.”

“Imagine a world where nothing ever happened, where there’s no worry about what might come. Isn’t it wonderful? And what bliss it would be to close your eyes and wake up, realizing that all of this was just a nightmare.”

…

…

“You…”

“You call that a solution?”

“…”

With a confident, candid smile, the Old Director sent shivers down everyone’s spine.

At that moment, having grasped his plan and ideology, none of them could find words to counter; they only felt an overwhelming, unimaginable madness crashing down upon them.

Earlier, Number Five had mentioned that the Old Director had built an altar.

It was an altar large enough to encompass half the world, but they now realized it was much more…

Not half a world—but the entire world.

The Old Director intended to sacrifice not just a part, but the whole world as it came after the Red Moon Incident…

Madman!

Madman!

Others, gripped by sheer terror, instinctively recoiled from the dining table.

Lu Xin, unable to hold back any longer, stood up and glared directly at the Old Director, cursing for the first time:

“You… you’ve truly lost it…”

“…”

“Why do you call me insane?”

Meeting the panic and anger around him, the Old Director remained eerily calm and replied in a soft tone: “We’ve always lived in a primordial dream, and I only wish to ease its pain and make the world a better place.”

“I’ve told you countless times about the beauty of the pre-Civilization Era.”

“That glorious world is worth any sacrifice.”

“Not to mention, the price we pay is only for this desolate, dirty, fragmented world…”

“…”

As he spoke, an unmistakable excitement flickered in his eyes and his arms lifted slightly, as if spreading an embrace.

“Children…”

“This is a grand plan—a perfect cycle…”

“But I need your help to complete this magnificent plan…”

“…”

“You…”

Beside the table, everyone had already leaped up in panic.

They looked on in fear and hesitation, except Number Seven who resignedly sat next to the Old Director.

Both Lu Xin and Numbers Three, Five, and Fourteen had clenched their fists tightly.

Yet a fog of confusion hung over them, leaving them clueless about what to do next…

“No one will help you…”

Lu Xin’s brows furrowed deeply as dark particles in his eyes trembled.

“Oh?”

The Old Director looked up slowly. As an ordinary man, he stared directly into Lu Xin’s eyes and then suddenly smiled:

“I never said you could refuse.”

“…”

“…”

“Swipe!”

As if triggered by that single word, the taut nerves of everyone snapped.

Someone who had hesitated to strike due to the terror now decided. Closest to the Old Director, Number Three gritted his teeth and reached out. His arm unnaturally elongated like a rope, wrapping around the Old Director’s neck, and his palm suddenly spread wide.

From his palm emerged a vicious, sharp mouth that spat out a little apple.

The pull-tab had already been removed.

The Old Director simply sat by the table, showing no sign of resistance.

Meanwhile, Number Seven, right beside him, suddenly leapt up. Clenching her lips, she silently grabbed the little apple and hurled it out the window. Then, seizing a dining knife, she swung it sharply, slicing off Number Three’s arm.

“Shhh… shhh… shhh…”

A sudden slicing sound filled the air as a pale shadow darted past. Little Number Nineteen’s body shattered into pieces and rushed forward.

In each hand she gripped a sharp dining knife, one in each hand, and stabbed at the Old Director.

At the same moment, Number Eight whirled around and yanked his silver handcase forward, clicking it open.

In an instant, his body seemed to split into seven or eight overlapping silhouettes.

Each silhouette produced a weapon—or rather, a torture device—from the silver handcase, slashing at the Old Director.

“Aaah…”

At that moment, a piercing scream echoed, resonating on a mental level to everyone present.

The next moment, someone crashed through the window, and the ceiling above shattered as two figures burst in—from the window and the ceiling respectively. They flanked the Old Director on either side. The assaults of Number Eight and Little Number Nineteen were involuntarily diverted by an unseen mental force, landing on these two intruders instead.

Only when these two, blood and flesh mangled, collapsed did everyone realize they were merely ordinary people.

Under the influence of a mysterious mental force, they had rushed in at just the right moment.

Illusory Land.

No one was ignorant; they immediately understood the cause.

Now, trapped in Illusory Land, everything was subject to the manipulation of a central mental force, capable of transforming falsehoods into reality—and that very core protected the Old Director…

There had been omens of this before.

When they boarded the Ghost Train into the city, those who suddenly halted to greet them were manifestations of this mental power.

The Old Director’s home seemed unprotected, yet in this city anyone could become his bodyguard—ready to sacrifice their life without hesitation.

And now, such bodyguards were pouring in from the windows and the ceiling above.

From the direction of the doorway, a violent banging on the door erupted.

…

…

“Bastard…”

Number Five ground her teeth and cursed as the burly man she controlled suddenly straightened up.

A dull roar erupted from his chest.

Then, outside the building at the community entrance, a savage tearing sound arose. A section of a train car, dragged behind the Ghost Train, was torn apart in an instant. A massive explosion sent three towering, frenzied figures charging here, each step shattering the ground.

Invisible mental power surged toward them, as if to halt their advance.

Yet they blindly charged like machines, crashing heavily into the building’s wall downstairs.

Crack…

Like an earthquake, the whole building shuddered, walls collapsing and floors splitting.

Below, the three frenzied giants quickly scaled the building.

Number Five’s masterpiece, built using principles akin to those of the Moon Eclipse Research Institute’s Negative Zero Unit, produced three savage combat machines.

Almost impervious to mental power, they zeroed in on their target and struck straight away.

And now, Number Five had fixated solely on the Old Director, betting everything on this final stand.

“Click, click, click…”

At the same time, the damaged room and walls quickly reassembled. The three savage beasts lunged upward, each move wreaking tremendous havoc on the fragile residential building. Yet, shrouded in an unseen mental force, the building seemed to possess a will of its own, rapidly repairing itself.

This forced the beasts as they neared, only to suddenly be pushed further away from their target.

Such was Illusory Land at its peak—almost capable of mending reality, stretching the distance between the beasts and their mark.

“Number Nine…”

Number Two, donning round glasses, glanced at Lu Xin as if to ask a question.

Lu Xin furrowed his brow standing aside and nodded.

Number Two exhaled, then raised a finger and gently tapped the adjacent wall.

A twisted, multicolored glow emanated from his fingertip.

It quickly spread from a point to cover the entire room and then the whole residential building.

Even the core mental force that once ruled the city—the king of Illusory Land—lost control of this building, forced to retreat as his influence waned. This was no longer his domain…

“Crash…”

The mental force that enveloped the city shrank desperately, unwilling to yield.

But Number Two merely concentrated, as if emerging from a daze, and the mental force rebounded.

Two colossal mental forces—one from within, one from outside—clashed and compressed together in an instant.

An indescribably violent power burst forth from the intense pressure, sending visible ripples through the air. The entire roof of the residential building was ripped off; sunlight flooded in, followed immediately by choking dust and blinding rubble. Losing all support, the building collapsed downward in a thunderous fall.

Crack…

Even beneath their feet, a dark red light shimmered, as if the abyss itself had been torn open by the impact.

“Hiss…”

Outside the building, eerie, unwilling hisses echoed as they receded.

In the ensuing clash, Number Two’s mental force ultimately overpowered the force that had gripped the city.

Yet, because the Nightmare of God was too mighty, even Number Five’s three savage beasts were flung aside amid the chaos.

One of them was torn to shreds by the intertwining mental forces.

As the remaining two roared fiercely and pounced on the tilting residential building, those inside were helplessly dragged along with the falling rubble. All eyes turned to Number Fourteen, who cowered in terror, his expression turning cold.

He shifted slightly and aimed directly at the Old Director.

A massive torso exploded, splattering endless red blood as if struck by an unseen force.

Then, a vivid red figure burst forth from his body.

It resembled a man, yet looked more like a serpent, coiling forward in an instant.

It bypassed Number Seven and the others who had just rushed in, coiled around the Old Director, and tightened relentlessly, its blurred features opening a ferocious maw to bite into the Old Director’s neck.

At that sight, everyone was stunned—they recognized who that figure was.

“Crunch…”

But then a scream rang out as the slender figure was blasted away, crashing into the wall.

Soon, a sound like munching on mulberry leaves echoed as the surrounding chaos swiftly mended itself—the upturned table, spilled glasses, shattered window, the holed ceiling, even the lime and sand in the dishes.

The entire building underwent instant destruction and reconstruction.

Everything, as if time were reversed, vanished and restored to its former state.

Only Number Fourteen, his face pale and sweating profusely, with visible gashes, remained a stark reminder of the ordeal.

The snake-like figure of that madman leaned against the wall, coughing up blood.

…

…

“You all did very well.”

The Old Director slowly sat up straight, picked up a towel, and wiped the corners of his mouth.

“But it’s still not enough…”

He swept his gaze over the assembled group and critiqued one by one: “Number Three, your ability is of a parasitic nature. The power you’ve developed—from seizing others’ abilities and hiding dangerous weapons—is a splendid use, though an underutilization of your true potential…”

Then he looked at Number Five: “The Negative Zero Unit’s philosophy is outdated.”

“Erasing one’s mental traits to become immune to pollution—this research has a low ceiling. Such a biological weapon is troublesome to make, even harder to maintain, and, most importantly, of little use against beings beyond the Fifth Stage.”

“…”

“Number Eight and Little Number Nineteen, your abilities are nothing special—you haven’t achieved any breakthrough.”

He shook his head slightly: “But you two, though timid, had the courage to strike me—well done.”

“Number Two, after all these years, you’re still a puppet of the Nightmare of God, never its master.”

“Thus, you can never fully harness its power…”

“…”

“I must commend Numbers Twelve and Fourteen.”

The Old Director directed his gaze first to the injured Number Fourteen, then to the strange figure in the corner, a smile forming as he nodded: “Especially Number Twelve—I knew you were hiding; I even searched for you, but failed. I never expected you were concealed within Number Fourteen’s body, daring to try and assassinate me when I had already abandoned the hunt.”

“That was truly impressive.”

“And as for you, Number Fourteen…”

He smiled at the slumped Number Fourteen and nodded: “You’ve always loved to terrify people.”

“I must admit, you did scare me this time.”

“…”

With the Old Director’s words spoken, a deep despair welled up in everyone’s hearts.

Each of them had acted, only to be met with criticism.

Most painfully, they still had no idea how they had failed…

And in that despair, they suddenly remembered something, looking up at Lu Xin.

And at Number Nine.

The mightiest Tyrant.

They couldn’t understand why Lu Xin hadn’t struck just then.

“Number Nine acted before all of you.”

As if sensing their thoughts, or the last spark of hope within them, the Old Director smiled: “He attacked even before Number Three placed a grenade in my arms—at least three times he struck me.”

“?”

The expressions in the room turned blank.

The final glimmer of hope in their hearts was nearly snuffed out as they watched Lu Xin, expecting him to retort.

But Lu Xin remained silent and slowly said, “Why?”

He too was puzzled—why had his Mental Impact, the annihilation of black particles from afar, been utterly useless?

And Number Twelve’s ambush—he had clearly grasped the Old Director’s lifeline.

Yet, in an instant, everything lost its meaning…

The Old Director was nothing more than an ordinary man. Even face-to-face, he was just human.

But how did he do it?

This question shattered the last vestige of hope in their hearts.

A pained expression crossed the Old Director’s face as he took a pack of cigarettes from his pocket—cheap ones. Noticing that they were the same brand he and Lu Xin preferred, he sighed as the acrid smoke spread: “The sacrifice is about to begin…”

“This is the grandest sacrifice I’ve deduced based on the secret rituals and sacred scriptures of all the pre-Civilization Era mysterious organizations—a transaction with the Primordial.”

“In the sacred texts of the pre-Civilization Era, this sacrifice is known as The God Cage.”

“Under the witness of the Seven Archangels, I offer my flock, my people, my wealth, and myself to the Great Lord. Moved by my devotion, My Lord will descend in a dream, granting me a new flock, new riches, a new me.”

“And if he refuses, I shall leave him trapped in the dream, eternally yearning…”

“…”

The Old Director continued slowly, then began to smile: “So, children, I too am one of the sacrifices.”

“I stepped into the altar long before you arrived…”