Apocalypse Forecast

There's an old joke.

A man on a ship sailing through a storm suddenly realized it was divine punishment. He quickly knelt down to pray, begging for forgiveness on account of the other innocent people.

Then, a cold, mocking voice questioned from the sky, "Do you think it was easy for me to gather all these people on one boat?"

It's as if you thought this was some Hollywood blockbuster, at most something by Michael Bay, with explosions everywhere—BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!—and enough popcorn for everyone.

But once the opening credits passed, you saw the director's name—Takeshi Kitano.

A ship full of evildoers. Suddenly, it seems like no one will come to a good end. What the hell is this?

Ai Qing gritted her teeth, suppressing the displeasure in her voice.

In reality, she had already anticipated what was happening. Throughout history, countless Black Ships were sent by the White Crown King to various parts of the world, yet only a few ever made it back to the New World. Although the majority of the elite from the American Genealogy came riding such ships through storms, before that, surely more than ten times, even a hundred times that number of ships had been sunk into the vast ocean. Even whether they remained in the Current Circumstances was a question.

According to the statistics of the Jurisdiction Bureau History Revision Committee, the wreckage of these Black Ships had been excavated from various Borders and Hell. This meant their route was not as simple as just from one continent to another within the Current Circumstances. Perhaps the moment they left the harbor, they were no longer in the Current Circumstances. Otherwise, the eerie phenomenon of the sun fading and perpetual night reigning would not occur. No one could force such a massive change against the self-correcting nature of the Current Circumstances. Unless it was in Hell. Only there could such a scene be possible.

—The Curse of the Gods.

That was the name given to this bizarre phenomenon. This world did not allow for the rise of the White Crown King. Or rather, the Gods who once existed in this world, and even controlled it, did not permit this traitor to establish himself. Even if they were temporarily powerless against the White Crown King far away in the New World, they would never miss any chance to eradicate his wings.

"But aren't most people on this ship not planning to pledge allegiance to the White Crown King?" Huai Shi sighed. "When organizations compete for people, what's the sense in giving newbies a hard time?"

Ai Qing scoffed in reply, "When you move a piece forward on the chessboard, is it truly your will, or did you obtain the piece's consent?"

Huai Shi fell silent.

He understood what Ai Qing meant. It didn't matter what the chess piece thought. What mattered was its position. If it were insignificant, casting it aside wouldn't matter. But if it stood in a critical position, then it had to be mercilessly eliminated.

"Human wisdom and knowledge are far too feeble, Huai Shi," Ai Qing said coldly. "In the Domain above the Fifth Stage, it only takes a thought to easily distort reality... just like controlling a Puppet. Not only is the body not one's own, but even the Soul is merely currency for the Gods. The only difference is whose image is on it and how much value it hides."

Moreover, even if the Gods still had mercy to squander, would there be a single innocent person on this ship? Forget it, everyone's a Dark Creature, so what's with the act? Including Huai Shi's current Vest, which one of us isn't burdened with blood debts?

A Child of Original Sin...?

Ai Qing finally remembered the story title KP had shown at the beginning; only now did she understand the malice hidden within. What angered her more was that ever since KP's update, all Players' silhouettes were covered in darkness. She couldn't see other people's reactions or expressions. Apart from a few brief exchanges where tone and inflection were indiscernible, the possibility of Players cooperating was drastically reduced.

"The story, the story is the essence, right?"

KP, seeming to have glimpsed the vexation in her heart, smiled and said, "The communication between characters is the most wonderful part of a story, not the Players who tower over them. If characters are wantonly manipulated and toyed with by higher dimensions, then how is that any different from what the Gods once did to humans?"

Ai Qing had nothing more to say.

But Huai Shi was under tremendous pressure. Having learned that bloody history from Ai Qing, he no longer had much confidence in clearing this dungeon. A ship full of Dark Creatures... even if he, as a Demon Hunter, were to kill them one by one, it would take more than ten days. Besides, in this pitch-black sea, not even a massive steel cruise ship could provide him with much sense of security. How many Dark Creatures would it take to tear apart even the sturdiest ship? It could be said that if chaos erupted, everything would be instantly destroyed. And Parasussell could easily hide in the darkness; as long as he didn't show his face, Huai Shi was destined to lose.

Moreover, was Van Essen's mission really that straightforward? Considering the struggle between the Stigma Genealogy and the American Genealogy, Huai Shi didn't believe things could be that simple. If it was just a task... why would it be recorded in the Philosopher's Stone?

"Whose Philosopher's Stone is this, anyway?" he wondered, a genuine question now taking root in his mind. "Surely it can't belong to the White Crown King?"

"Don't joke about that," Ai Qing said. "The White Crown King has already surpassed the Fifth Stage. The 'Falling Morning Star' Stigma is nothing but a Power imitated by later generations based on his Miracles. It's most likely from some lucky individual on the ship who successfully reached the New World, right? No... this means there's a considerable chance that *this* ship will make it safely to the New World! Huai Shi, we still have an opportunity."

Huai Shi knew, but he was worried... that opportunity was quickly slipping away.

Because the people on the ship were about to start fighting.

As a Player, seemingly detached from their immediate plight, Huai Shi might not have fully appreciated their predicament or felt the terrifying desperation of being abandoned by the entire world in an instant. But undoubtedly, for the inherently malevolent Dark Creatures, chaos and strife were instincts engraved in their very bones.

After the initial terror, the eerie, everlasting night brought bone-deep pressure and a despair so thick it couldn't be dispelled, followed by the descent into near madness.

Huai Shi could almost see that delicate fuse, as fragile as a candle in the wind, gradually snapping.

"Don't get involved. Let's focus on keeping ourselves safe for now," Old Xiao whispered. "Come to my room later. The situation has changed, and we need to plan for the long term."

No one objected.

On the brink of chaos, forget turning the tide; it was becoming extremely difficult even to protect oneself. Even a Third Stage Stigma was considered skilled among these Dark Creatures, but who knew how many more formidable powerhouses were hidden among them? Huai Shi himself felt a strong sense of suppression from several individuals, not ruling out the possibility of someone at the Fourth Stage hiding in their midst.

Unexpectedly, the one who stepped up to avert the crisis was that rather worldly-looking woman from last night's dinner. She and her stiff husband had left a profound impression on Huai Shi. It wasn't just the stark contrast between the couple that was memorable, but also their actions that morning—rushing towards the captain's quarters the moment they realized a crew member was dead.

At least her mind still seemed clear; she knew infighting now would mean self-destruction. The woman, who called herself Mrs. Elinor, was desperately trying to calm those around her, apparently with some success.

This continued until the old woman carrying the chicken neck went berserk once again.

"You can shut up, you whore! This isn't a place for you to solicit!" she screamed in rage. "You all know nothing! All of you foolishly boarded this ship for some chimerical hope, seeking your own doom! Now that doom has arrived, are you still scared?

"What are you hoping for? HA! Expecting this group of failures to unite? Expecting this bunch of trash, hunted by the Stigma Genealogy for decades, too scared to even show their faces, to band together? Trash is trash, no matter where it goes! Do you think that just because the Gods are cruel to you, the White Crown King will grant you protection?"

Angry glares were directed at her, but the old woman's expression only grew more ferocious. "Am I wrong? Who can you count on? This prostituting whore? That one over there, who can only hold a cat and strike pretentious poses? Or this old geezer in a wheelchair who can't even speak clearly?! Forget it! You can't rely on any of them!"

"Enough! Shut up, Yaga."

From the wheelchair, her brother finally spoke, his voice hoarse and thick. "Don't say any more."

"What did I say?" Yaga sneered. "The truth, perhaps?"

"I said, shut up."

Her brother lifted his murky eyes to gaze at her, a terrifying light glinting within them. "Don't you realize I'm trying to save you?"

"HAHA! My dear brother, you only want to save yourself!" Yaga roared. "You just want the White Crown King to extend your life! You even tricked me onto this damned ship!"

"I said, be quiet."

Her brother spoke again. His fraternal authority finally seemed to take effect. Yaga's aged face twitched; she said nothing more, only let out a scream before turning and storming out of the dining hall.

The chicken in her hand continued to drip blood, and her hysterical cursing and roaring could faintly be heard from the corridor.

"I apologize for my sister's words," the old man in the wheelchair said into the silence, his gaze first turning to the young man in the corner. "She didn't mean it. She's been... rather extreme ever since my two nieces passed away."

"I know, I know."

The Egyptian boy holding the cat smirked arrogantly, a hint of mockery in his voice. "She's just a mad girl. I wouldn't stoop to her level."

The elder nodded. "Is our pact still valid, Pharaoh?"

"Of course, Koshchey."

The 'Pharaoh' holding the cat glanced around indifferently, as if looking at mere dust, his eyes filled with scorn. "Before we reach the New World, neither Sphinx nor I will move against you."

"I appreciate your magnanimity."

The old man slowly turned his wheelchair, surveying the room. "Did you all hear that? Stay calm. Aside from this futile night, the Gods can do little more to us here.

"The White Crown King will grant us protection. All you need to do is wait."

He declared, "Dawn will eventually come."

It sounded like a cruel joke.

But no one could muster a laugh.

Huai Shi sat dumbly in his chair, like a well-behaved child, his expression innocent, his gaze harmless... while inwardly, his mind reeled, and he hadn't the slightest strength left to laugh.

Yaga, Koshchey, Pharaoh, Sphinx... Mother of God, what kind of clash of titans is this?