Welcome to Rewind World Game-Chapter 1341 - 1334: Angel Route 1 – “Sique Is Luowasha’s Sinner”
"This is a lie."
At this moment, Qi Zhou suddenly spoke up.
Seeing everyone looking at him, he stood with his arms crossed and sneered at the masked man, "Champion? Hahaha... The last time I saw you as a champion, you said the same thing. But now? I’m still participating in the second Disciple Game, and you gave me nothing."
Su 1 looked at Qi Zhou.
This unassuming purple-haired young man, is he really the champion of the first Disciple Game? To win the championship among Luowasha’s many extraordinary races is incredibly remarkable.
No wonder Qi Zhou is so arrogant, even daring to mock Sique’s appearance. As the ultimate winner of the first edition, he truly has the confidence.
"Last time, after I won the championship, I smashed the screen and saw you. As a champion, I could make a wish come true." Qi Zhou sneered, his face flushed with anger: "But you said my wish was too greedy, and you couldn’t fulfill it! Only if I win the championship in the second edition would you help me achieve it!"
"Now I realize, you guys can’t really do anything! Boss Tu has some skills; at least he built the framework of the Disciple Game. Boss Cat, although a bit lacking, at least earnestly worked on perfecting the instance—but you all, are just a bunch of parasites!"
The bear-eared person spoke, agitated: "Parasites? You should address us as respectable investors. Without us, how could Boss Tu have had enough resources to build the Disciple Game?"
Qi Zhou said coldly, "So when the Disciple Game took off and got bigger, bringing more profit to you capitalists, you killed those who genuinely made the game! Wanting to take the top position yourself, using bets, wagers, and live broadcasts, to earn more profits for yourselves!"
Su 1, having listened to this point, roughly understood the situation.
—The conflict between passionate game creators and profit-driven investors.
...
["I’ll tell you what to do, girl! I want to gather all the good stories in the world and replicate them into a game, this game being independent of Luowasha. I’ll call it ’Disciple Game.’" Boss Tu wriggled: "I think the story of Daylight Floating City you wrote is really good! I want to integrate it into my game as the second instance."]
[Siyi asked, "Why are you making this game?"]
[Boss Tu wriggled her dress, shyly saying, "I want to make a pirated game to destroy the official one! The official game is so wicked, I won’t allow it to survive!"]
...
Boss Tu was the original game creator. Her dream has always been to destroy the official World Game.
However, she couldn’t do it alone. Later, Luowasha’s high-class races smelled a business opportunity, becoming her investors, injecting funds and providing energy for her. In return, these investors began meddling in her game, advising on scripts, and making extensive adaptations, altering the well-trimmed story beyond recognition.
Boss Tu accepted it after all because one has to make a living. Without investment, the final result would be her sulking with a rotting game for a lifetime. At least this way, she had the possibility of realizing her dream.
Only, she misjudged the investors’ greed.
The investors became even more extreme, setting up underground betting rings, secretly live streaming to other like-minded high-class races, keeping the Luowasha public in the dark, treating the lives of public participants as sensational shows to earn broadcast and wager fees. This life-and-death game, meant to change the fate of the poor, was merely idle talk for them.
When the time was right, they would cross the river and demolish the bridge, replacing Boss Tu.
After the second stage of the Disciple Game, Boss Tu disappeared, and no one cared where her rot ended up. She was replaced by Boss Cat, but after Boss Cat died, there might be more Boss Quan, Boss Fox, Boss Bear in the future...
Desire is insatiable.
Dreams are merely measured numbers in the face of interests. They are worthless and not equivalent.
Creators like Boss Tu never came to their senses even until the end.
Or perhaps she did, she realized, but would never change.
Everything was too late.
...
[Su Ming’an saw the future of the Seven-colored Macarons—In this future, Sique introduced Su Ming’an to Boss Tu, who was delighted to accept Su Ming’an’s inclusion, eagerly sharing with him the principles of constructing the pirated World Game, instance information, and ways to counter the World Game.]
[During this time, Su Ming’an met many interesting friends, such as the timid yet cunning Siyi, the social-averse yet tsundere Yu Zhi, and the intellectual and elegant Flax... They enjoyed a very warm time, where the creators were always bursting with inspiration and ideas, like a group of passionate young entrepreneurs making games, determined to perfect each instance story to create the best game.]
[This storyline was far from the disputes of Luowasha; a dozen or so people stayed together, striving every day to perfect the game. Su Ming’an also experienced laughter and tears, living happily with his companions, just like the original Acto.]
[...Until at last, a red sun abruptly appeared, incinerating the pirated World Game floating in the sky.]
...
This future was actually foreshadowed.
The Disciple Game was not solid and impregnable but was sabotaged by parasites, leading to its ultimate failure.
"Sique actually condoned your existence as parasites." Su 1 raised his head.
"Olivius? You think he’s a good person?" the deer-eared man laughed heartily: "He’s just a fellow traveler in corruption! Do you really believe he’s some noble, arrogant great artist? I tell you! Truly proud and noble great artists have long starved to death! With no connections, no resources, no platform, no promotion, you creators are nothing! No matter how well you write, if no one sees, what kind of trash are you?"
The truth unveiled a bloody corner, exposed before the eyes.
Su Ming’an’s comprehension was still slightly confined by a student’s perspective. He always believed that Luowasha’s worldview was romantic, and as long as a creator had talent, they could change their destiny. Sique’s experience was legendary, an ordinary Magpie who, through storytelling, could leap to the pinnacle of Luowasha, a feat that was both surprising and impressive.
But in reality, nothing is so idealized. Reality is never a fairy tale.
He only saw the successes, not the many "mediocre" ones. There are unwritten rules everywhere. Just like in the art circle, without a master’s recommendation letter, a mentor’s backing, or gallery resources, who would support you?
The romantic filter of Luowasha was shattered, and truth and reality reconstructed starkly before his eyes.
Lin Hejin was full of ambition, but due to questioning Sique once, he was subjected to online abuse, with no force willing to host his stories.
Ran Bo’s lifelong effort could not withstand an authoritative modification.
Qi Zhou became the champion of the first edition, attempting to change his destiny, yet he still struggles in the second edition, remaining a topic of conversation for those in power.
And Sique...
"Su Liujin, I know you, the precious Lighthouse Jellyfish. In our eyes, your existence is more valuable than the entire Disciple Game." The tiger-eared man showed a greedy gaze, staring fixedly at Su Ming’an.
Su 1’s face remained unchanged, the Spatial Barrier had silently expanded, surrounding the banquet hall, ready to lock doors and beat the dog senseless.
The tiger-eared man tried to persuade him to "abandon darkness for light," throwing him a Memory Clip:
"This is Sique’s experience in his younger days; see what he has done. Then consider well whether to stand by his side."
After erecting the Spatial Barrier to protect himself, Su 1 touched the Memory Clip.
...
"—Sique! Why did you kill so many people! Do you want to become a god through slaughter!?" someone questioned.
This was a very short Memory Clip.
Sique stood expressionlessly in the rain, holding a notebook in his hand, most of the names on it had been crossed out by him, all of them the dead.
His pen had killed these people.
He wore a white robe, his features still retained a trace of innocence, about nineteen years old, not long since the scene in the Memory Clip where he joined the Church. It was unclear what had happened in between to lead to today’s situation.
The crowd, extremely agitated, pressed toward him, demanding an answer.
However, he remained expressionless, silent.
People’s patience gradually wore thin, and the first person to approach was a young girl, clawing fiercely at him:
"—My parents are dead, I want you to pay with your life!!!"
A bloody mark appeared on Sique’s face, sending a searing pain. He sidestepped to avoid her, trying to retreat, but was surrounded by people.
A large hand pushed, and people’s emotions turned angry and sluggish. More and more people started to act, looking for an outlet for their anger. And Sique, who offered no reason, was the best target.
"He killed so many! The ink still remains on his hands, kill him!" someone screamed. 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎
"No, he can’t die, the World Tree favors him, but it won’t protect him all the time, we should just spare his life!"
"To prevent him from harming people further, cut off his hands and feet, blind his eyes; he mustn’t write those harmful words anymore — all the tragedies he wrote came true!!!"
"He can’t explain! He did it on purpose! He can’t give a reasonable excuse!"
Sique was the sinner of Luowasha.
This was beyond doubt, because the tragedies he wrote killed many people, and he didn’t rebut, even closing both his eyes.
Anger swept through the crowd, Sique stumbled a few steps and was pushed to the ground. He seemed to try to pick up the Feather Pen, but a long knife chopped down first, with a "thud," his right hand fell to the ground, exposing the bones of the wrist.
Following that, a blade of unknown origin cut through, slicing his left hand as well.
He barely took a breath, and a teeth-grinding "crack-crack" sound of bones breaking echoed as someone directly crushed his leg bones, breaking all his tendons and bones.
The young man fell like a kite with a broken string.
Blood, mottled bloodstains.
Blood dyed the ground red, yet people still felt it wasn’t enough, a rod struck his back.
"Bang!"
He spat out a mouthful of blood.
He tried to get up, but had no strength at all, not only from the now senseless legs, but internal organs also sent shards of pain, with skin and flesh on his back torn open, bent bones piercing into his muscles.
Rough gray dust and gravel scraped across his abdomen, over a dozen pieces of broken glass pierced into his arms, followed by soft whips and hard rods, falling on him like raindrops.
Amid the loud curses and heavy breaths, people wielded justice, judging the wicked, wearing smiles of great satisfaction. It was as if sin had finally received its deserved judgment.
"—And his eyes, his eyes—those can’t remain either!" someone shouted.
"—Not an ounce of chance to write again!!!"
Sique breathed slowly, enduring the hellish pain all over his body, saying nothing.
Soon, that first girl was pushed forward to deliver this Sword of Justice.
She grabbed a handful of hair from Sique’s forehead, yanking him up from the ground, as if pulling up a blood-stained feather. Her eyes were bloodshot, filled with hatred:
"From now on, you will harm no one again! Lives are not your ink, you demon!"
A piece of glass was in her hand, aimed at Sique’s eyes, but soon she thought of something and threw the glass away: "Wait, if it’s with your prized Feather Pen..."
She tore open the inner pocket of his clothes, pulling out a purple-gold Feather Pen, the nib pointed at Sique’s eyes.
Golden eyes, dazzling like the Sun, even bloodshot yet still shining heartbreakingly bright.
The girl was enraged by this gaze, roaring: "Don’t look at me like that! You demon!!!"
Sique perhaps should also have been angry.
But hearing the desolation in people’s voices of losing everything, seeing the tragic foundation beneath this disaster, there was no flame in his heart.
"—Punish him! Punish him! Punish him!!!"
People seemed to fall into a grand revelry.
Everyone upheld their inner justice, filling the void left by their losses with joy. The more they judged the sinner, the more they gave charges to the sinner amidst the flames, the more their sins seemed to disappear.
Sique’s eyes were always squinted; he did not want to remember people’s expressions. But at this moment, as the nib aimed at his eyelid, his eyes slowly opened fully.
Silently, calmly, he gazed at the point near his eyes.
His gaze was clear, as if silently expressing that he had done nothing wrong.
The girl was shaken by this gaze, momentarily aware of anger — she had faltered, she began to doubt whether the sinner was truly guilty.
Encouraged by others, she screamed, roared, and shouted — bringing the hand down.
Like the blade of justice, coming down with a "clack."
"Well done! Good job!!!" people screamed out.
"From now on he won’t harm anyone! He can’t write stories; let’s see how the World Tree will still like him!!"
"When he loses the World Tree’s favor, we’ll push him onto the pyre!!!"
Amid people’s enthusiastic cheers, in the all-consuming revelry—
The beautiful, glowing, sharp Feather Pen—
Made two sticky sounds.
It pierced into Sique’s eye sockets.
The golden pupils were shredded, with blood mixed with white flowing out from his eyes, as if two broken gemstones.
...
