novelraw Chapter 1294 652: Future
Chapter 1294 652: Future
Doubt, resentment, or perhaps numbness and confusion.
In the prolonged silence of death, Salahuddin's expression changed, his hands trembled, barely able to hold the box in his hands.
Lips opened and closed, yet no sound emerged.
When he wanted to roar in anger, he found he no longer had the strength.
It was as if his bones were removed.
Too much suffering, too much despair...
The elder knelt on the ground, extended his hand, and dug out his own heart, amidst the sandy flesh, that dull gray iron heart.
"Holy Fool, if this is my sin, then punish me absolutely, in whatever way you see fit."
He knelt and kowtowed, humbly begging: "They have given up everything, hoping only for your mercy! We are willing to do anything, as long as, as long as you..."
"The legacy of the Gray King."
The Seeder lowered his gaze, looked at that once-stilled iron heart, sighed softly, extended his hand, and with a gentle touch, it was as if he dispelled all the gloom and deathly silence.
In an instant, a miraculous radiance emerged from the stone heart.
After a hundred years, it began to beat once more!
Salahuddin stood frozen in place.
Stunned.
The entire fleet, everyone, was frozen.
They heard the echo from within their chests, a rhythm so deep and yet so beautiful.
A tinge of blood color appeared on each pale, cracked face, carrying the warmth and rhythm of life. Astonishingly, even the sandy, cracking wounds no longer felt numb, instead presenting a tingling pain. The cracks twitched, and the gray-black color unexpectedly disappeared without a trace.
As if invisible shackles quietly loosened at this moment... the curse of the former king that bound every remnant of Shaban miraculously and swiftly vanished!
"Now, you are free, Salahuddin."
The Seeder withdrew his hand, not touching that amber-like heart: "You need not be slaves to anyone, nor seek shelter from despair and sadness in someone like me. You only need to answer one question for me, and that will suffice."
He lowered his gaze, looking down at the man prostrating on the ground, suddenly asked: "Now that you have regained your freedom, where can you go?"
"..."
Salahuddin remained silent.
Amid the excited laughter and ecstatic shouts, he closed his eyes wearily, feeling no lightness or joy.
Only an empty smile.
"Where else is there a road to take?"
He lowered his head: "Like dust, we have long been abandoned by the world... even without the curse, where can we go?"
Except for Hell, they have no other path.
"Then, this is the pact we have established between us."
In the dead silence between sea and sky, the Seeder extended his hand, placed it on his head, and told this exhausted man:
"From now on, all you have to do is move forward. Blood and tears and suffering will flow no more from today onward, and I will create a future for you that no one can ever take away."
"The future?"
Salahuddin was stunned, looking up as if in disbelief, yet when he met those eyes devoid of pity and mercy, he could no longer hold back and tears streamed down his face.
Like a child, he choked out, tears flowing profusely:
"Are you saying we still have a future?"
The Seeder nodded slowly.
And so, Salahuddin slowly supported himself, stood before him, bowed again, raised his hands, and devoutly kowtowed, prostrating in worship.
As if meeting a god.
Tears welled up in those turbid eyes, the light of burning fervor, like a flame consuming the Seven Seas.
"Allow me to dedicate my life to the future you speak of!"
From this moment, he dedicated the last legacy of the former Shaban, dedicating his life.
Amidst the laughter and songs of countless people, on the dark sea, they opened the Fourth Abyss leading to Hell!
On the day the Wolf Evil died at the hands of the White Deer, a great calamity emerged from the heart.
.
.
As the hidden dangers quietly sprouted, the storm in the White Country began to intensify.
The tragic death of the temporary president was just the beginning.
In the following days, corpses of high officials were hung on street lamps, faces that once appeared on television now rotted corpses.
The treacherous lackeys and compradors, like rabbits mourning the death of a fox, had long lived in fear, using every avenue to escape this rapidly falling Hell.
After the past glory faded, even the Empire and the Federation's forces began to withdraw from various places, retreating to their garrisons, disregarding their lives.
Those who received advance notice had long escaped overseas, living undercover, starting a new life with the wealth they had amassed over the years, praying that no retribution from their homeland would befall them one day.
Those who were a step too late, however, desperately discovered that all tickets for airships and ships were sold out, and they could only drive around aimlessly like headless flies.
Amidst the turmoil, many large corporations bolstered their security, quickly severing and cutting ties with local operations to avoid incurring more losses.
Outside the airports of the Empire and the Federation, crowds were dense with people, clenching special passports, anxiously lining up, waiting for indefinite notifications.
In the endless agony, they could only keep finding excuses to deceive themselves, forgetting the fact that they had been discarded like worn-out shoes.
Thus, some cried, some laughed.
Amid waves of upheaval, the White Country, deprived of order and stability, plunged into unprecedented chaos and simultaneously... embraced an unprecedented vitality!
Whether crying or laughing, the once hollow eyes now gradually gleamed with a faint light.
Even if most people went through grief and life continued as usual, still struggling to get by, they felt an inexplicable ease when breathing.
It was as if they had broken free of shackles.
Amid all this chaos where everyone was overwhelmed, when the Empire and the Federation looked displeased as if they had lost a horse, only one person couldn't stop smiling.
The Desert Market manager of Tower City.
Shaban.
Life is getting better, indeed!
Who could have thought that at the end of my term as leader, I would encounter such a blessing? With the constant emergence of numerous White Deer Chosen Ones, the local Desert Market's business began to expand wildly.
It's getting better, all getting better!
Although such days are destined not to last long, and the local Desert Market will inevitably face restructuring and domination by the headquarters, what does that have to do with me, who's about to retire?
Besides, even retiring elsewhere can be invigorating!
It's as if, just before retiring, my rank suddenly got bumped up three levels, and my status naturally rose with it. Now, even if the Empire and the Federation want to see me, they have to make an appointment.
Before the White Deer came, you called me Old Sha, and I didn't mind.
Now that the White Deer has arrived, what should you call me?!
Nowadays, Shaban is so busy he can't stop laughing his head off amid the hustle and bustle.
Every day, he opens his eyes and starts thanking the Desert Market, lifts his bowl to honor the White Deer, and silently prays for Lu Changsheng's blessings of many children, wealth, and longevity.
Don't ask why, just know I love the Evil Cult deeply!
As this wave brewed and spread, Desert Market's actions became increasingly high-profile. Recently, it was announced that they would resume the annual Chief Gathering to adapt to the changes and turmoil of the new era.
As for how this move will be interpreted by various parties, that's another matter.
The most outrageous thing is, despite having nothing to do with Desert Market, Ji Jue inexplicably made a fortune during this turmoil!
For no other reason than his great relationship with the Chongguang Church!
Now, in the entire White Country, besides the Desert Market, the only large organization standing tall is the Chongguang Church, personally endorsed as benevolent and kind!
The Chongshan Medal is still pinned on his chest, and this time he even got an extra one!
Double!
Even without Elder Long Ge's intervention...
The locals in White Country somewhat respect Coastal Industry.
Who could help it... Ji Jue was the only one who looked up to these poor brothers and opened his heart to them?
Setting aside the relief during the White Deer storm, the welfare and remuneration offered after opening the factory were also justifiable. But when the Forest Country erupted, and Blood Thirst ran rampant, Old Gou executed Ji Jue's order to lavishly buy special medicine and supply it indefinitely to the church!
Moreover, when various factions tried to clean up the infected, they decisively opened factories and hospitals to accommodate refugees and shelter children.
At the peak, even unfinished buildings were occupied, and the Yan Family Brothers could only sleep on the floor in Ji Jue's office.
Countless lives were saved, and every local knew what had been done.
As a result, when the storm reoccurred, other companies and institutions were preparing to flee under the locals' hateful stares, but Coastal Industry began leisurely preparing to resume work.
After taking over production lines and industries left by peers for a pittance, they unabashedly posted hiring notices for everyone, offering the same benefits as New Spring Headquarters!
Inexplicably, it just prospered!
Unfortunately, after doing so much, in the end, Shekri died, and the Seeder didn't show up, hiding better than a Hermit.
After losing leads, Ji Jue could only continue waiting, sitting in the workshop, observing the chaos before him and the burning scenery of Tower City.
Delighted beyond measure.
On the third day, An Ning left with her family.
No goodbye, no words.
Maybe she didn't know how to face Ji Jue, who had turned into a wolf, unable to understand why someone inexplicably turned into a wolf and yet exuded even more White Deer aura than herself...
What is this?
Was Superior permitting people to become wolves?! How absurd!
Upon opening her eyes and sensing Ji Jue's gaze, she couldn't help but evade it, and when she dazedly stared at Ji Jue's neck, her face blushed.
Yet, she didn't say a word to him.
Like a sulky child.
When Ji Jue woke up, he saw the mirror covered in doodles on his face, and the cracks on the desk seemed to form something.
After scrutinizing for a long time, Ji Jue boldly guessed: she might, perhaps, have been trying to draw a wolf head... but the art style was just too abstract.
There was a big cross over the crying tongue-sticking wolf head and even a short knife pinned in it.
Which left Ji Jue utterly puzzled.
Ji Jue scratched his head for a while, finally took a photo, and sent it to her: [What on earth does this mean?]
After a long 'read' on the other end, and constant 'typing' indications reappeared, in the end, only an emoji of a dog's head pointing at a person was sent.
Along with a seemingly stern yet weak threat and warning.
[If you dare transform into a wolf again, I'll Shark you within three days!]
"..."
Ji Jue's vision went black.
Who could possibly understand this!