Abandoned by my Childhood Friend, I Became a War Hero - Chapter 95: - Imperial Palace Ball

Ten Years after the Descent to Earth of a Radical And All-Knowing System Called Arkadia, Life has changed in ways we could only surmise given we lived in a comic book. People with superpowers, Monsters, Heroes and Villains, Hell, there were even Other races coming out of the woodwork like Elves and such. Still, it wasn’t until The Extraterrestrials Invaded that things went from bad to worse.Yet, as if hope truly existed, 5000 of us Earthlings were given the opportunity to Head back into the past, only we didn’t know at the time there was a cost for doing so. By sending us back, the Descent Clock began, as Arkadia was pushed 10000 years into the Future, and it was up to us Returners to get things set back on course by changing the past to mold the Future.And I, being a boogieman of a Villian in what I dubbed the Origin Timeline, have come up with thousands of potential ways to affect my new life, like stealing popular franchises to earn some long-term funds or….hunting down notorious Serial Kills and Solving long-standing Cold cases I had been curious about since I was a teenager.

“Coming live to you, from Cerou Street, this is MBP News, and we have an unfolding situation to report. Late last night, at approximately 3:00 AM, an explosive-like sound reverberated through this area, disrupting the sleep of residents and instilling fear in their hearts,” the news anchor, a striking figure, delivered the report with poise, standing before the camera amidst a bustling scene.

In the background, the blaring horns of ambulances and police vehicles disturbed the serenity of the beautiful morning light. Two individuals wearing protective suits, presumably forensic experts, held a stretcher carrying a charred body.

The news anchor, who had been reporting earlier, placed a hand on her ear, fitted with an earpiece, and looked visibly surprised. Her voice filled with urgency as she continued, “We have just received an update from our headquarters regarding the sole fatality in this unexpected incident. The victim of this tragic event is none other than Norman, the famous gigolo of Night palace.”

“My colleague, who was set to cover an event today at Nightplace, obtained this information firsthand from Countess Maria, who held a special place for Norman in her heart. Our focus this morning is on this breaking news,” the female news reporter continued amidst the chaotic scene, while Norman's charred body lay alone in the ambulance.

Meanwhile, in a different world, a young boy lay fast asleep with his head on the table. The sun, seemingly displeased with the boy's carefree slumber, cast its rays directly onto his face. Annoyed by the intrusion, the boy shifted his head in another direction, unwilling to be roused from his deep sleep.

*ZZZr Zzrz Zzrzzr* However, an additional source disturbed his sleep, filling the room with a buzzing sound. The boy furrowed his brows in annoyance, his eyes still closed. He searched his surroundings and discovered a glass-like slab. With closed eyes, he slid his finger across it and placed it near his ear.

“Hello...” he mumbled in his drowsy voice, which carried a hint of depth.

“Hey, Pissed-up Prat, where are you?” a voice laced with disdain emanated from the slab.

The boy, referred to as the “Pissed-up Prat” by the irritating female voice, recognized it as a voice he heard frequently but couldn't recall its owner. With his eyes still closed, he inquired, “Who is this?”

“What do you mean, 'who is this'? Wake up, come home, or eat shit for breakfast if you prefer!” the voice behind the transparent slab retorted before falling silent.

The boy, still not fully awakened, gazed at the half-opened glass slab with a mixture of confusion and surprise. As his eyes darted around the room, he became increasingly shocked.

As he recollected the fragmented memories from the night before he lost consciousness, his gaze fell upon the entrance of the shop. Once old and damp, it now bore a different appearance. While not transformed into a luxurious space, it had undergone improvements compared to its previously dilapidated state.

The shop took on a rectangular shape, with one longer side adorned with wooden shelves intricately patterned. Rows of empty glass jars lined these shelves. On the opposite side, there was another wooden shelf, also displaying empty jars. Towards the beginning of the counter, where the boy had been sleeping, there stood a peculiar machine.

Confusion etched across his face, he murmured to himself, “Whose shop is this?”

In response to his question, a mechanical voice resonated in his mind.

[The Omnistore belongs to you, host.]

……………………………………………………………

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On that day, the fog blocked everything.

On that day, he became the captain of a ghost ship.

On that day, he stepped through the thick fog and confronted a completely subverted and fragmented world—the old order had vanished, strange phenomonoms dominated the endless seas beyond civilized society, and isolated island city-states and fleets of ships challenged the sea that had become the last ember of lights for the civilized world. All of this while the shadows of the old days were still stirring in the deep sea, waiting to to devour this world that was about to die.

But for the new captain of the ghost ship Vanished, there was only one question he had to consider first— Who knows how to drive this ship?!

What are the heavens?

Aloof and solitary, none can measure it’s might. It is law. It is commandment. It is merciless. It is unfeeling.

Overlooking all existence, controlling the winds and clouds, stripping reward and punishment, leisurely yet capable. For these reasons, the Will of Heaven cannot be measured, the firmament cannot be approximated. Obey it and yield to it even though it may not be to one’s benefit. Oppose it and rebel against it, fortune and disaster however are hard to determine.

Heaven, imprisoning the manifold existences like a deep well, the living things of the mortal world as mud.

There existed such a very simple, very resolute frog at the bottom of the well, cautiously guarding his mind there were a few, faint rays of light, bearing the meager convictions to absolutely nibble upon swan meat. Step by step from amidst the mire of the mortal world, struggling to leave, step by step to exit the unseeable depths of the sordid, deep well.

When he opened his great mouth towards the thoughts of nipping the swan, recklessly taking the firmament and swallowing it down in one bite! 　

Chu Tian said, lacking money, demand even more money; lacking life, demand to pay with one’s life.

This is exactly Chu Tian’s determined, most simple and firm principle.　　

This principle is greater than heaven!

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