novelraw Chapter 119 : Transcendent Chaos
Chapter 119 : Transcendent Chaos
Chapter 119: Transcendent Chaos
At dusk, nightfall began to shroud Zhucheng. Near a beach in Zhucheng, inky-blue tides pounded against the coastal rocks, letting out a dull, hoarse roar.
Jiang Li dragged his exhausted body and slowly surfaced from beneath the sea.
The last trace of the sunset gilded his wet face with a rim of gold, yet it could not conceal the deep contemplation in his eyes.
Old Zhang was wandering not far away, and the aroma of food drifted from the stove.
When he saw Jiang Li, he split his mouth into a grin that revealed several missing teeth and called out loudly, “Kid Jiang, looks like you had a pretty good haul today!”
“Come over quickly—there’s fresh fish soup tonight!”
Jiang Li forced out a smile in response and said, “No, Uncle Zhang, I have something urgent today. I’ll drink with you another time.”
Old Zhang did not think much of it, assuming he had some private matter, and waved his hand. “Alright then, be careful on the road!”
Jiang Li nodded, said no more, and walked straight toward the shore.
His steps were a few beats faster than usual, his heartbeat rapid.
The sea breeze, carrying a damp fishy smell, brushed against his cheeks, yet it could not blow away the doubts and unease swirling in his mind.
The old district of Zhucheng was like a forgotten corner, squeezed to the edge of the city by towering clusters of modern buildings.
Jiang Li’s residence was located in just such an aging residential area.
It was a rented room of less than thirty square meters, its window facing a narrow and noisy alley.
The furnishings inside were simple: a single bed, a rickety table, several chairs, and a rust-speckled wardrobe.
The paint on the walls had peeled away, revealing mottled gray plaster, and the droning hum of the outdoor air-conditioning unit was the eternal background noise here.
After Jiang Li returned home, he bolted the door and drew the thick curtains over the window as well, cutting off all light and sound from the outside world.
The room immediately sank into dimness, with only his heavy breathing echoing in the cramped space.
Then, Jiang Li took the “Game of Gods” invitation out from his chest, placed it on the table, and began to examine it carefully.
Earlier, underwater, he had not been able to see it clearly. Now, upon close inspection, he discovered that the material of the invitation was not any known substance—light yet extremely resilient—and at the edges there seemed to be barely perceptible arcs of electricity leaping.
The golden patterns on it were like living things, flickering with a mysterious luster in the gloom.
The ancient symbol at the very center looked like an abstract eye, and also like a blazing flame—profound and irresistibly alluring.
The invitation bore no name and no address, only a few short yet arrogant words: 【Game of Gods Invitation】
Although Jiang Li had always kept his distance from matters of the transcendent world, he knew that the “Game of Gods” was a cruel stage where Transcendents obtained power and fought one another.
Every time the “Game of Gods” opened, it was accompanied by unavoidable death and destruction.
Jiang Li had heard rumors about the “Game of Gods” countless times, each one accompanied by bloodshed and chaos.
He had even heard that some people, through sheer bad luck, were swept into it, their families shattered and innocent lives lost.
But he had never imagined that one day he himself would receive such an invitation.
He could, of course, choose to ignore it—throw away the invitation and continue his life of scavenging, a life whose end he could see at a glance.
Or he could sell this invitation in exchange for a vast sum of money.
He had heard that wealthy magnates were willing to pay astronomical prices to purchase such an “entry ticket,” just to glimpse the tip of the iceberg of the transcendent world.
If that were truly possible, he would be free from worries about food and clothing for the rest of his life—no longer needing to rummage through trash heaps every day, no longer worrying about tomorrow’s meals.
This thought was not without temptation; it even once gained the upper hand in his mind.
Just as he was immersed in this struggle over visions of the future, a piercing cry suddenly penetrated the poorly soundproofed walls and stabbed straight into his eardrums.
That sound was filled with despair and grief—it was the voices of the neighboring Old Lin couple.
The Old Lin couple were a pair of elderly people over sixty, who had lived in Zhucheng all their lives, surviving on their pensions.
They had always taken good care of Jiang Li, this lone, hardworking, and honest young man—now and then bringing him home-cooked food or helping him with small repairs.
Although Jiang Li was not good with words, he had always been grateful to this kind-hearted couple.
Therefore, when he heard the crying, his heart clenched. Such grief-stricken wailing meant that something terrible must have happened.
Thus, Jiang Li set down the invitation in his hand, hurriedly pulled open the door, and quickly went next door.
The neighboring door was ajar, dim light spilling out along with clearer cries.
“Old Lin, don’t be like this, your health isn’t good…” Granny Lin’s voice was hoarse and trembling, carrying a despair as if all strength had been drained from her.
“My son… my Zhihua!” Grandpa Lin’s voice was filled with endless wailing as he pounded the ground again and again.
Jiang Li pushed the door open and saw a heart-wrenching scene inside.
Granny Lin was slumped on the floor, clutching Grandpa Lin’s arm. Both were crying uncontrollably, tears and snot streaming down their faces, their eyes swollen red, their faces covered in tear tracks and despair.
On the table lay a black-and-white photograph. In it was a young man with a bright smile—it was the Old Lin couple’s only son, Lin Zhihua.
“Grandpa Lin, Granny Lin, what happened?” Jiang Li’s voice trembled slightly as a sense of foreboding surged in his chest.
Granny Lin looked up at Jiang Li, choking so hard she could barely speak. “Zhihua… Zhihua he… he’s gone…”
“Gone?” Jiang Li felt a loud buzz in his head, his mind going blank.
He had met Lin Zhihua a few times—a young man working away from home, who would return during holidays to visit his parents, filial and polite.
He was only in his early thirties, the prime of his life. How could he…
Grandpa Lin suddenly raised his head, his eyes bloodshot. He clutched Jiang Li’s clothes tightly, his voice hoarse like a broken bellows. “Xiao Jiang, you don’t know… my Zhihua… he just went to Yangcheng on a business trip… and ended up running into that damned ‘Game of Gods’…”
Yangcheng! The Game of Gods!
These two words intertwined in Jiang Li’s mind like twin bolts of lightning crashing down.
“Those Transcendents were fighting in Yangcheng… they don’t care about ordinary civilians at all!”
“My Zhihua… he was just an ordinary person… just doing his job…”
“And he was hit by flying energy… burned alive!” Grandpa Lin’s voice grew sharper and sharper, as if accusing the injustice of this world.
Granny Lin held Grandpa Lin, crying until she was on the verge of fainting. “Those people in the government, sitting so high above us, they keep saying they’ll protect us!”
“And what happened? They don’t care at all!”
“They just send people to placate us, give us a pitiful bit of compensation, and then let those murderers roam free!”
“They… they even go and curry favor with those murderers!”