C122 — “Destiny”

Unlike the library, the Gate of Dusk and Dawn still belonged to the Butterfly’s domain and had not become a boundary domain.

At this moment, the Gate of Dusk and Dawn was like the sanatorium Mu Sichen had first taken over—standing alone as an independent domain within Mengdie Town.

Using the two “pillars” he had already claimed, Mu Sichen set up a barrier that only he could open, isolating the Gate of Dusk and Dawn as a separate zone.

The people inside could not get out, and those outside could not get in.

If this had been another god-level monster, after two “pillars” were destroyed, a divine descent would have occurred.

Based on the single instance in which Mu Sichen had witnessed a divine descent, he judged that after descending, a god-level monster could create a separate combat space, allowing the battle to take place without affecting the town’s residents.

Once the battle was over, if the outsider won and devoured the original god-level monster, they would take over all of that god’s power and domain—including the town and the remaining “pillars.”

If Mu Sichen had the strength to fight a god-level monster head-on, he wouldn’t have to struggle so hard to break through the third “pillar.”

But thinking of the power of Big Eye, the Moon, and the Butterfly, Mu Sichen felt that dealing with “pillars” was still the easier option.

A light rain began to fall from the sky. Mu Sichen glanced at the weather forecast, which showed light rain in the real world tomorrow.

This was proof that the town now belonged to him—the weather in Mengdie Town had begun to change according to Mu Sichen’s weather forecast.

Pedestrians near the Gate of Dusk and Dawn looked up at the sky in curiosity, puzzled.

“Why is it suddenly raining? Apart from Rain Alley, other areas of Mengdie Town never get rain.”

That was right. Mengdie Town was usually a place of constant sunshine, blue skies, and white clouds. If someone wanted to experience rain or snow, they could go to Rain Alley or the Snowfields—places where it rained or snowed year-round.

Since it was only a dream anyway, Mu Sichen waved his hand, and an umbrella appeared in everyone’s hands.

Holding their umbrellas, people enjoyed the rare coolness of summer amid the gentle drizzle.

Within this faint chill, Mu Sichen heard some strange voices.

“Drip, drip, drip—who is crying?”

“Drip, drip, drip—it is a drowning butterfly.”

“Drip, drip, drip—it is a retainer in the deep sea who sympathizes with humanity.”

“Drip, drip, drip—it is a false god who dreams of creating beauty but can only create lies.”

“Drip, drip, drip—the only beauty sustains the butterfly, as it struggles between dusk and dawn.”

“Drip, drip, drip—will it sink into the depths of the sea, or use illusory dreams to devour the abyss?”

“Drip, drip, drip—dusk and dawn will eventually be drawn by ‘hope.’”

“Drip, drip, drip—at the end of the story, is it the butterfly, or the deep sea?”

“Drip, drip, drip—it is both, and neither.”

“Drip, drip, drip—the butterfly loses its only beauty and ultimately merges into the deep sea.”

“Drip, drip, drip—what remains is only hatred toward ‘hope.’”

“Drip, drip, drip—everything was arranged long ago, an unchangeable ‘Destiny.’”

“Drip, drip, drip—my lovely child, you have finally heard my voice.”

The voice was like a nursery rhyme, yet also like someone whispering softly in Mu Sichen’s ear.

It seemed to come from the raindrops, yet also from within Mu Sichen’s own mind.

The “drip, drip” sounded like falling rain, but also like the ticking of a clock’s second hand.

A chill ran down Mu Sichen’s spine.

“Who are you?” he asked silently in his heart.

Mu Sichen looked around, trying to find the person who was speaking.

There were still quite a few people outside the Gate of Dusk and Dawn. Holding umbrellas, they walked back and forth in front of the gate—some merely passing by, others wondering why the door had been closed.

 

Among the passersby, Mu Sichen noticed a white umbrella.

He had never seen such an umbrella before. It was like a sheet of draft paper—pure white overall, covered with numbers and formulas.

The umbrella tilted slightly, allowing Mu Sichen to see the face of the person beneath it.

It was a young woman Mu Sichen knew very well.

She was the woman who had dumped Shen Jiyue, that womanizer of a boyfriend.

She was the woman who had revealed a great deal of information to Mu Sichen.

She was the woman who had broken up with her boyfriend because of Mu Sichen.

She was the woman toward whom Mu Sichen still carried a trace of guilt.

She was very beautiful, smiling gently at Mu Sichen.

That smile filled Mu Sichen with a fear he could not escape.

What was going on? Who was she? What had that voice been just now? What did “my lovely child” mean?

For an instant, Mu Sichen felt as though the road beneath his feet had turned into a finger, and he was standing in someone’s palm, unable to break free.

Holding the umbrella, the woman walked toward Mu Sichen and brushed past him under his horrified gaze.

As she passed him, she smiled faintly and said in a low voice,

“You’d better come out of the Gate of Dusk and Dawn completely intact. Don’t lose anything—after all, your entire existence belongs to me.”

“Who are you?” Mu Sichen grabbed at the young woman.

The next second, his hand passed through empty space. Raindrops struck his arm. There was no one beside him.

“Who are you talking to?” Ji Xian’an asked warily. “Did you see some kind of hallucination?”

“No, not a hallucination,” Mu Sichen shook his head.

That was absolutely not a hallucination. It was someone—or something—that truly existed.

Or rather, a god.

This rain had brought that being before Mu Sichen and allowed him to hear its voice.

Those “drip, drip” nursery rhymes were telling Mu Sichen the story of the Butterfly.

Through the content of the song, Mu Sichen seemed to glimpse everything about the Butterfly.

The Butterfly was an idealist, a false god under the Deep Sea. Perhaps the Deep Sea treated the townspeople poorly, and as a false god, the Butterfly developed rebellious thoughts and wanted to protect the residents.

So it accepted Qin Zu’s temptation, betrayed the Deep Sea with the help of other gods, and became a god itself.

But when the Butterfly truly established Mengdie Town, it discovered that what it could do for the townspeople was no different from what the Deep Sea had done.

god-level monsters were powerful yet tragic. They possessed immense strength, but had lost their humanity, their minds controlled by some even more terrifying force.

The Butterfly had to devour townspeople; a domain required soul energy.

So it divided people into locals and outsiders, trying to protect the locals while only devouring outsiders and locals who had committed crimes. In the Butterfly’s eyes, those people were already beyond saving anyway.

 

It even used “fallen zones” in the real world, attempting to construct a “pillar” in reality itself and devour real-world humans.

It wanted to protect the residents of Dream Butterfly Town.

Yet the only thing the Butterfly could truly give them was an eternal dream from which they would never awaken.

Big Eye had seen the Butterfly’s sorrow and wrote the bedtime book An Ideal Nation in Dreams.

The nursery rhyme Mu Sichen heard—its first half told the Butterfly’s past, while the latter half sounded more like a prophecy.

The song said that the Gate of Dusk and Dawn was the domain that sustained the Butterfly’s personality. Once the Gate of Dusk and Dawn was lost, the Butterfly would no longer be itself.

The final outcome of the battle between the Butterfly and the Deep Sea would be that neither side would win.

In the end, they would merge into one, becoming an entirely new god.

What would remain would be nothing but hatred toward Mu Sichen.

“System, is this why you didn’t want me to enter the Gate of Dusk and Dawn?” Mu Sichen asked. “You wouldn’t happen to be hoping that the Butterfly wins this battle against the Deep Sea, would you?”

[Under the manipulation of the “Hand That Blots Out the Sky,” the “Dream Weaver” is certain to defeat the Deep Sea. This is the deal between them, and also the reason the “Dream Weaver” was willing to spare the player.]

[After obtaining the Deep Sea’s power, in order to maintain an independent personality, the “Dream Weaver” will inevitably fall into slumber. At that time, the player will gain a long period for growth.]

[If the Gate of Dusk and Dawn is lost, the “Dream Weaver” will no longer need to maintain a sense of self and can merge with the Deep Sea without any hindrance.]

[It will hate the player and will stop at nothing to hunt the player down.]

[The player has not yet reached level 50 and will find it difficult to withstand such attacks.]

[However, there is no other choice. The player’s life is currently bound to the Gate of Dusk and Dawn. The gate must be taken, and “New Moon” must be occupied. Everything is a “Fixed Fate.”]

Only now did Mu Sichen realize that there was such a deep layer of meaning behind the system’s attempts to stop him.

“System, you never mentioned ‘Fixed Fate’ before,” Mu Sichen suddenly realized. “It was only after I chose to attack the Gate of Dusk and Dawn that you brought in several elderly professors in succession and mentioned the name ‘Fixed Fate’ for the first time.”

[Haven’t you already guessed it?]

Yes, Mu Sichen had guessed it. He had figured out many, many things.

First was the rain.

He heard the voice of “Fixed Fate” when the rain began.

And this rain came from the weather forecast on Mu Sichen’s phone.

 

The weather forecast had always puzzled Mu Sichen as well. Why was the weather in Hope Town exactly the same as what the forecast predicted?

This question had deeply troubled him, and the system had never answered it.

Now that he had encountered “Fixed Fate,” Mu Sichen instantly understood the reason.

The term “Fixed Fate” corresponded to “variables,” and when “fixed fate” and “variables” were combined, they formed destiny.

From this title, Mu Sichen could preliminarily conclude that “Fixed Fate” possessed a certain degree of power to manipulate destiny—but the future it designated was unchanging and fixed.

Just like the weather in Hope Town, which was exactly the same as what the forecast showed—this was “Fixed Fate.”

But this conjecture was terrifying. Hope Town was Mu Sichen’s own domain, yet it had been infiltrated by the power of “Fixed Fate.”

And that wasn’t all.

When Mu Sichen saw the young woman holding an umbrella, he suddenly understood that both he and Shen Jiyue had unknowingly been manipulated by some kind of force.

That young woman connected Mu Sichen and Shen Jiyue. She sent one human and one god into the Repentance District at the same time, establishing a link between them.

With a light touch, she manipulated a variable, placing Shen Jiyue and Mu Sichen into the same situation—both increasing the obstacles for Shen Jiyue to obtain “New Moon” and smoothly binding Mu Sichen’s life to the Gate of Dusk and Dawn.

A scheme that killed two birds with one arrow—it was truly exquisite.

“System, the one who contaminated me and brought me to the other world was ‘Fixed Fate,’ wasn’t it?” Mu Sichen said silently in his heart. “In fact, when I obtained Hope Town, you already mentioned the subsequent infrastructure tasks for future players, yet you never brought in any new players. Was it because the players you wanted were all contaminated by ‘Fixed Fate,’ and you didn’t want me to come into contact with them?”

[Yes. It would be better for the player not to become aware of “Fixed Fate.” Its contamination is very special—it both exists and does not exist. If you do not realize that “Fixed Fate” exists, its contamination will have little effect on your mind. But once you become aware of its existence, it will make you feel as though fate is something you cannot break free from.]

“How can there be a god-level monster whose contamination doesn’t affect you as long as you don’t notice it?” Mu Sichen asked.

[Let me give you an example. Suppose someone who knows history travels back to the past. Knowing how history unfolds, they try desperately to change it—but the butterfly effect caused by their actions instead brings history to fulfillment. Wouldn’t that person develop the feeling that history is a ‘fixed fate,’ something that cannot be changed? Wouldn’t they feel powerless, as if manipulated by destiny, and from then on refuse to intervene, choosing instead to watch everything coldly from the sidelines?]

“Yes.” Many time-travel novels and dramas Mu Sichen had read followed exactly that path.

[But those who truly live within history—people who do not know the past or the future—will not feel that they are being controlled by fate.]

 

[Someone becomes an emperor as a woman; when she first entered the palace, she certainly didn’t know her future fate.]

[Someone rises from a beggar to become an emperor; when he was begging, he certainly didn’t know his future.]

[This is how the contamination of “Fixed Fate” works. Once you become aware of it, you cannot break free from the web it has carefully woven. But if you are unaware of it, it cannot influence you.]

[Player, do not lose heart. Protecting everyone is your own choice, not the dominion of “Fixed Fate.”]

“Then I… how can I get rid of the contamination of ‘Fixed Fate’?” Mu Sichen asked uneasily. “I actually thought about this before. The crossaxe has struck me many times, but it never purified ‘Fixed Fate’ even once. I even guessed that the god-level monster contaminating me might be the ‘Heaven-Blanketing’ one.”

[You have not been affected by the contamination of “Fixed Fate” at all—how could there be anything to purify? If you truly believed in “Fixed Fate,” held it as an unshakable truth, and lost all “hope,” how could you possibly rely on external forces to cleanse that contamination?]

[Purifying the contamination of “Fixed Fate” cannot rely on external; it can only come from your own heart.]

[It appears only to make you feel how terrifying destiny can be. Do not try to understand it, and do not fear it. Go and do what you want to do. Take what you want to take.]

[Your life contains countless “variables.” Each “variable” pushes you further away from the control of “Fixed Fate.”]

[The system itself is also one of the player’s “variables.”]

Mu Sichen’s fear eased considerably.

Feeling a little warmth in his heart, he softly asked the system, “Aren’t you supposed to be an emotionless tool? How are you so good at comforting people?”

 

[Isn’t that because of the player? You spend all day thinking about philosophy and psychology, yet you can’t be bothered to preview next semester’s advanced mathematics and college physics. The system had no choice but to frequently retrieve philosophy-related knowledge based on the player’s preferences.]

[What the system says to the player is nothing more than what the player himself wants to hear.]

[Humans cannot hear what they do not want to hear—even if they do, they will forget it.]

[Memory is that kind of selfish thing: it only recalls what humans are willing to remember.]

Mu Sichen: “……”

He felt that the system was scolding him, pushing him to study science subjects and read less feel-good self-help literature.

Still, Mu Sichen accepted the system’s encouragement.

He would try not to bow to fate, not to be controlled by “Fixed Fate.”

Even if “Fixed Fate” had woven a vast net around him, he would still strive to grasp every variable within reach.

“Let’s go,” Mu Sichen said to Ji Xian’an.

The two of them pushed open the door and stepped into the Gate of Dusk and Dawn.

 

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