MY HIDDEN TALENT IS FORBIDDEN BY THE HEAVENS

Chapter 297 297: HE CHOSE TO ERASE

The world did not hold together. It separated. Not into chaos. Not into order. Into pieces.

The boundaries Long Hao had created spread outward, no longer faint, no longer uncertain. They cut through the world with quiet precision, dividing space into regions that no longer interacted with each other.

Some remained. Some flickered. Some— Were gone.

Entire sections of the battlefield disappeared without sound, without collapse, without resistance. They did not break apart. They did not fade. They simply— Stopped existing.

Long Hao stepped forward again. And another region vanished.

"…So it's already started." His voice was steady. Too steady. Because now— There was no hesitation left.

The network reacted instantly. Not expanding wildly. Not losing control. Adapting.

The fragments withdrew from the spreading boundaries, pulling inward, compressing into denser clusters—smaller, tighter, more resilient.

"…You're shrinking yourself." Long Hao observed. "…Trying to survive what I'm doing."

The network pulsed. Not in response. In confirmation. Because now— It understood. This was no longer growth. This was survival.

Above— The Authority changed. Not slowly. Not subtly. It condensed.

The vast, intangible presence that had once covered the sky began collapsing inward, drawing all of its influence into a single point. Not reducing. Focusing.

The light dimmed across the heavens as everything concentrated into something smaller. Sharper. More defined.

"…So you're done pretending." Long Hao looked up. "…You're finally stepping in."

The sky warped. Not breaking. Reforming. And then— It appeared.

A form. Not incomplete like before. Not undefined. Clear. A figure of light— perfect— absolute— unchanging. The Authority— Had taken shape.

Below— The network responded. Not outward. Inward.

The remaining nodes collapsed toward a central point, merging, layering, reinforcing—building something dense, something stable enough to resist what was coming. The unstable clusters hardened. Edges sharpening. States narrowing. Until— A second form emerged.

Not perfect. Not stable. But persistent. A body composed of shifting existence— multiple states overlapping— each trying to resolve— but none fully succeeding. The network— Had also taken form.

Long Hao stood between them. Still. Unmoving. Because now— It was clear. There were no more systems. No more concepts. No more phases. Only— Three existences. And only one— Would remain.

The Authority moved first. No warning. No signal. It stepped forward— And the world aligned. Everything around it sharpened instantly, space locking into absolute definition, forcing reality into a singular, perfect state wherever it passed.

The network reacted. Its form shifted— distorting— splitting— reforming— as it tried to avoid being defined.

The two collided. And the world— Failed. Not shattered. Not destroyed. Failed.

Because both outcomes tried to exist at once— absolute definition— and unresolved multiplicity— colliding— overlapping— refusing to resolve.

Long Hao moved. Not to stop them. Not to interfere. To decide. He stepped forward— And cut.

A section of space vanished instantly, removing part of both forces—erasing the point where their conflict existed. The collision stopped. Not resolved. Removed.

Both turned toward him. At the same time. "…Yeah." Long Hao exhaled slowly. "…That's how this works now."

The Authority stepped toward him. The network surged toward him. Because now— He wasn't just part of the conflict. He was— Ending it.

The Authority struck. Not with beams. Not with pressure. With certainty.

The space around Long Hao locked instantly, trying to force him into a defined state—trying to make him part of the system again. But he stepped forward. And the definition— Broke.

The network attacked next. Its form split into multiple variations, each one striking from a different outcome, forcing contradiction, overwhelming him with possibilities.

Long Hao raised his hand. And erased them. Not one by one. All at once. Because now— He wasn't choosing outcomes. He was removing them.

"…You're both still trying to win." His voice carried. Calm. Cold. "…I'm just trying to end it."

The Authority moved again. Closer. Faster. Its form no longer distant—now within reach, within presence, within the same space as him. The network followed. Not behind. Not ahead. Surrounding. Because now— There was nowhere left to expand. Only— Converge.

Long Hao stepped forward again. And the world shrank. Another section vanished. Then another. Each step— Less space. Less existence. Less possibility.

"…You're both running out of room." A faint breath. "…So am I."

His body flickered again. More violently this time. Parts of him failing to fully exist— edges breaking— presence thinning. Because now— Every erasure— Was costing him.

The Authority reacted. Not attacking. Observing. Because now— It understood something. The cost— Was finite.

The network reacted too. Not aggressively. Carefully. Because now— It understood something else. Survival— Meant waiting.

"…You're both thinking the same thing." Long Hao smiled faintly. "…Who breaks first."

Silence followed. Not empty. Tense. Because now— That was the only question left.

He stepped again. And the world— Lost another piece. The Authority moved closer. The network tightened. All of it— Closing in.

Long Hao raised his hand one more time. But this time— It trembled. "…Yeah." A quiet breath. "…I'm not making it to the end like this."

The realization settled. Not heavy. Not dramatic. Certain. Because now— He could see it. The more he erased— The less of him remained. Until eventually— There would be nothing left.

The Authority stepped forward. The network surged. Both ready. Both waiting. Because now— They knew. The end— Was near. And only one thing— Could decide it.

Long Hao closed his eyes briefly. Then opened them. Clear. Final. "…Then I don't drag this out."

The space around him shifted instantly. Not slowly. Not gradually. All at once. The boundaries expanded. Faster. Wider. Cutting through everything.

The world began to collapse at a rate that could no longer be stopped. The Authority reacted— too late. The network surged— too late. Because now— Long Hao wasn't choosing carefully anymore. He was— Ending everything.

The space trembled violently. Reality splitting— disappearing— failing— until only fragments remained.

And at the center— Three figures stood. One of light. One of shifting existence. And one— Fading.

"…Let's finish this." His voice was quiet. But final. Because now— There was nothing left to protect. Nothing left to save. Only— The end.

END OF CHAPTER 297