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The Black Que remained silent.

...Was that the only exception in the script of his life?

A life and destiny clearly written out. That was the only time he resisted, perhaps Su Wensheng was busy with other matters at that time, allowing Black Que to escape from the Nine Serenities, and thus in the control of the Ruler's Skill, he gave his only chance to turn the tables, the Sword of Destiny, to Su Ming'an.

...He was still being controlled.

Leaving Su Wensheng, only to fall into Su Ming'an's hands. No matter what, Black Que's favorability never belonged to himself. Even if he fled from the Nine Serenities, he eventually fell under Su Ming'an's Ruler's Skill.

Freedom never belonged to him.

He suddenly wanted to laugh out loud, to laugh wildly for this despairing life. Su Ming'an would never laugh so hoarsely, but "Black Que" finally wanted to laugh once like this, because for once he lived for himself, for two or three seconds.

"...Are you sure you want to laugh out loud, Black Que," Su Wensheng said lightly. In front of him floated a panel filled with 0s and 1s. If Black Que behaved in a way completely inconsistent with Su Ming'an, he would be erased as an error like those "Su Ming'an Fragments."

Black Que curled his lips, he no longer wanted to live, so what if he laughed once?

However, Su Wensheng's next words stopped his laughter.

"No, I should call you..." Su Wensheng touched his chin, his head slightly tilted, a few strands of hair intertwining with petals as if giving a gentle kiss:

"...Xiao Jingsan-3030."

In an instant, even Su Ming'an's expression changed.

Black Que was a replica of Su Ming'an, the 3030th, so he should be "Su Ming'an-3030," but why...

"Did you really think you were a replica of Su Ming'an?" Su Wensheng's voice was like a thunderbolt: "Unfortunately, you're not. Don't you find your character quite different from Su Ming'an? To be honest with you, Xiao Jingsan was the protagonist of the replica plan, but he defected under the influence of Xiao Ying. So I could only replicate a 'Xiao Jingsan' first, and make adjustments later..."

The truth fell like a blood-soaked blade.

Black Que took a step forward, and then another.

His expression was completely blank, like a blood-soaked blank sheet of paper, with nothing but emptiness, pure void.

Then he took another step forward.

Su Ming'an realized that compared to Black Que, Xiao Jingsan indeed resembled himself more. Xiao Jingsan seemed like a shadow replica of Su Ming'an, many traits and dispositions were already very similar — most notably Xiao Jingsan's face and voice.

At the start of the instance, Su Ming'an noticed that Xiao Jingsan's face was exactly like his own. In Louyue Nation, Xiao Jingsan's identity was as the Eldest Prince's shadow substitute. Even the character setup was consistent.

...No wonder.

No wonder Xiao Ying once praised Su Ming'an's face as "the most perfect face in the world," and later Black Que echoed the same, saying "this is the most perfect face in the world."

—Because Black Que existed to mimic Xiao Jingsan.

He was the "replica" of a "replica."

"So...I don't even count as you," Black Que looked at Su Ming'an, his eyes like shattered black gemstones.

"...Then what am I?"

Nothing was left in his pupils, his lips curled, his brows lowered, forming a bitter expression belonging to Su Ming'an, an expression Su Ming'an often wore.

Amid the scorching flames, the monitors spewed blinding sparks, the smoke choked the air, leaving one speechless. The smoke gradually spread, engulfing the entire control room.

Black Que stood amidst the fire, seemingly about to be devoured by the flames.

At this moment, he took out a small object from his bosom — a Lighthouse sculpture. Made of wood, its surface still bore un-sanded knife marks, carved one slice at a time during the night.

Then came several sheets of music scores from his bosom — written by him, during the night, as he sat before the piano, wishing one day he could be acknowledged by the true self. He knew Su Ming'an would inevitably face something in the future, which is why he, the replica, was needed to replace destiny.

Su Ming'an liked Lighthouses, so he wanted to like Lighthouses.

Su Ming'an liked playing horror games, so he practiced playing horror games.

Su Ming'an was skilled at the piano, so he too mastered music theory.

...How exactly had "Su Ming'an" constructed and reshaped him, and what had he become in the end? Three identically faced individuals, who was the most fortunate, and who was the most unfortunate?

"Everything about you also comes from programs and scripts," Black Que spoke across the thick black fog to Su Ming'an, even high on the platform, Su Wensheng could not be seen clearly. His brows hinted at a similar despair.

"It turns out my brain doesn't house a soul called Black Que."

"I was never the protagonist."

Su Ming'an opened his mouth but said nothing. Even if he spoke, it would only be from the protagonist's perspective, overlooking Black Que. It wasn't Black Que's fault; the plan was from a thousand years ago, the brainwashing was done by deities, Black Que was driven by Su Ming'an's own sense of responsibility, but what about himself?

He just wanted to be Black Que.

Thus, through the dense black mist, Su Ming'an heard Black Que's laughter amidst the surging flames.

It was laughter.

Fanatical, burning, flamboyant, unrestrained, laughter that absolutely did not belong to Su Ming'an, rightfully belonging to the untamed "Black Que."

—He laughed. He laughed against his "character setting," a laugh that placed him at death's door. Yet it was also his only moment of free laughter.

The laughter exploded in the air, as brilliant as a burst of fireworks. Each short burst of laughter was filled with strength, passionate and free, as if it could stir up the ocean waves and shake the mountains.

"...Do you want to come with me, Black Que," Su Ming'an asked. By the ruler's advanced skills, he could take away a Black Que with full favorability, Black Que had always been curious about being a Player, now he seemed to have fulfilled his wish.

Black Que's eyes seemed to light up, receiving a system prompt, his laughter became joyous, eyes fixed on Su Ming'an: "Of course I..."

Light enveloped him.

—He could of course go with Su Ming'an.

Meanwhile, Su Wensheng pressed a button on the panel labeled [Erase Xiao Jingsan-3030], saying faintly: "You cannot use your skills just like that, Su Ming'an, have you forgotten the final situation in Pulaya? Black Que does not have the value to be taken away."

In an instant, Black Que's face twisted. Fragments of light flooded around him, his cheeks turned pale. He struggled desperately against the erasure at the soul level, the causal lines entangling him, when destruction fell on one end, this end would follow.

His free laughter had stripped him of survival value, like a collapsing Lighthouse. The system interface [Become Player] appeared before Black Que, he stared at it for a few seconds, veins bulging on his face, his whole body began to crack as he grit his teeth and reached towards the screen, towards [Agree]—yet his fingers suddenly moved away.

This action seemed to take a great deal of resolve, causing his features to completely distort in that instant.

The acuity and sense of responsibility belonging to "Su Ming'an's" instance stopped him.

"You..." Su Ming'an was somewhat puzzled, but quickly understood.

...Black Que believed the importance of the Ruler's Skill was above his life. Su Wensheng's words indicated that this skill would be useful later, possibly blocking Su Ming'an.

Just like Su Ming'an once thought that the importance of "five occupation points of cloning" was above his own life.

But there's no need for such a place to be so alike.

"Making a choice is actually so easy." The black Que said in the flames, looking at the system panel close at hand. Then he lifted his head, and his gaze froze, focusing firmly on Su Ming'an.

It seemed as if nothing else in the world existed, except for the Su Ming'an in front of him.

Su Ming'an looked into the mirror.

In the mirror was his "3030".

He saw points of light in the dim vision, like a starlit sky in a silent night. They gathered around the 176 centimeters and 60-kilogram form of the black Que. He stared at Su Ming'an for three seconds, then lowered his head to kiss the music score in his hand, until the black notes were scorched by blazing fire, blooming with a fiery rose-like color in the golden-red flames.

He held the Lighthouse sculpture, his expression turning ferocious as if he wanted to smash it fiercely, but soon he gently kissed it. This sense of disorder was bewildering.

The silhouette was covered in a gray haze, like a dusty high tower.

Su Ming'an took a step forward, but the black Que stepped back, as if unwilling to get closer to him.

As it should be, who would want to approach someone who has replaced them in life's entirety, even if the fault isn't Su Ming'an's. Su Ming'an thought the black Que felt this way; the black Que surely hated him.

But the black Que said.

"If you ever see someone named black Que again."

"Please don't call him Xiao Jingsan-3031."

"Call him black Que, white Que, colorful Que, whatever. Or, consider him a 'Shadow,' after all, he exists by mimicking the Shadow. He'd rather replace the Shadow than be a number."

"He always liked this world. This person very much like the Shadow... he actually wants nothing more than to be recognized by you."

The shadow cast on Su Ming'an's cheek.

He once hated the black Que's soliloquy intensely, annoyed by the black Que's pathological obsession with him. But now he realized—

"Why?" Su Ming'an felt puzzled as to why the black Que seemed to bear no resentment towards him.

"..." The black Que's voice paused: "…It's hard for someone not to like you, isn't it? If they truly understand you. If they truly… nearly one hundred percent understand you."

The silhouette collapsed inch by inch like a sandcastle.

"So, the original. If you ever meet... someone as foolish as me again."

"Don't… pity him. Don't... let him see hope again."

In the choking smoke, the last voice identical to Su Ming'an's was drowned. For a moment, as the dust briefly dissipated, Su Ming'an caught sight of the black Que's eyes, in which emotions entirely different from his own finally appeared.

It was, until death, a profound loneliness.

But in the last instant of meeting eyes, the black Que hesitated for half a second, then slanted his gaze downward, pretending malignancy with a smile, a smile that was the exact image of the Shadow, as if trying to leave Su Ming'an with a final impression. Perhaps he wanted to distinguish himself from the Shadow, to leave a piece of "black Que," but the smile uncontrollably leaned towards the Shadow. Ultimately, he left nothing for Su Ming'an.

The tattered music score fluttered to Su Ming'an's side, where he saw dense black notes, like a flock of dark Quann, dancing within the cage-like staves. Some pointed their black tails high outside the lines, some became a quiet black dot between the staves, and some finally leapt out of the staves, playing ultra-high and ultra-low pitches, like a chorus of dark Quann singing high.

Their eyes were similar, lips similar, even their body construction, voices, ideals, were similar.

Perhaps the final choice would also be similar.

Jealousy and sorrow, yearning and love once erupted like fireworks in that pair of eyes, only to be abruptly extinguished.

—Black Que was just the 3030th such bird.

The prior 3029 black Quann's agony, struggles, and love-hate went unnoticed.

[...Su Ming'an-3030 met the real Su Ming'an, whom I called the 'original.' His honest candor made me feel like mud in the corner. He reminded me of moonlight, waves, the lighthouse, and cats.]

[How should it be done for the 'original' to recognize me? I let him stab me with a sword... Will doing so ease his burden a bit?]

[Clearly, I know myself as well, "I" really hate people like me, I can never convince him.]

[Later I asked for his thoughts, he said 'Destiny' is 'the death of freedom.']

['The death of freedom'—what is that? My death has never been free.]

[These days, I often hear unspeakable voices from human joy, praise, scolding, and fear, I loathe all ugliness in the world, forever peeping from within the Beehive. Yet an invisible hand turned my vision toward the window. I saw free birds singing high from the prison-like staves, seemingly calling to me, so I stepped forth, clung by the window, answering their call.]

[I don't know what's beyond the staves, whether it's the void like white paper or more staves.]

[I don't understand such things.]

[—But at the moment of jumping out of the window, I saw moonlight, the Lighthouse, and cats growing from my body.]

...

The light scattered, the figure in the fire vanished, leaving only a few burned bones, and some black strands of hair scattered on the ground like feathers of Que birds.

[npc (black Que) ending progress: 100%]

[You have achieved the (black Que) character ending: OE· "Su Ming'an 3030"]

["Beyond the window... what is it?"]

...

Su Ming'an walked forward.

At his feet was an unfinished wooden sculpture of a lighthouse, the fragmented music score already turned to ashes, and no one knew what notes black Que had once composed.

Apart from Su Ming'an, no one would have any deep impression of this 'Shadow-like' person. Because he didn't choose to be a player, he would soon be forgotten by the fickle audience.

"...Su Wensheng."

Su Wensheng looked back.

"...Boom." Su Ming'an said softly.

Su Wensheng flinched.

A sudden sound erupted from the roof.

Blazing flames sharply pierced in from outside, a flame long sword instantly stabbed through him.