Do you have something you believe in with unwavering faith? Is there still something you strive for? Do you truly believe in everything you do...
A voice echoed in the darkness. I drifted in the void, my body numb and senseless. Was this a dream, or something else entirely?
"Qingyuan, Ethan Zhang just stopped by. He tried calling you—why didn’t you answer? Listen, stop trying to do this alone. Just go with Ethan Zhang, it’s better that way."
"Lily, I’m tired. I just want to get some rest early."
Ethan Zhang slumped on the sofa, utterly exhausted and powerless, as if he might sink right into it. Lily Wu sat beside him, her face etched with worry—though disappointment overshadowed any concern.
His face was the picture of utter sorrow and despair, as if everything had collapsed. Ethan Zhang trembled, choking back sobs—he wanted to scream but had no strength, wanted to leave but his feet were mired in mud.
"Why? How much longer do you expect me to wait for you? Am I supposed to spend my whole life suffering with you? I’m just a woman—I have no idea when this ‘everything will be fine’ you keep promising is supposed to happen."
The warmth that once filled Lily Wu’s face had vanished, replaced by icy coldness. Her eyes held only contempt for a failure.
Yin Chou watched Ethan Zhang’s terrified face with a mocking, ambiguous smile. Ethan cowered in the corner, screaming desperately, crushed by fear.
"Brother..."
His ambiguous smile carried a mocking undertone.
For the first time, Yin Chou smiled. It was the first time Ethan Zhang had seen Yin Chou’s smile—a long-lost expression, yet strangely familiar, as if he’d glimpsed it long ago. It was the smile of a demon, the kind whispered about in the world of men.
"Will you just ignore it?"
Lying on the ground, Ethan Zhang’s face finally relaxed, as if the gloom that had weighed on him was swept away. Light returned to his eyes.
Chief Stone eyed Ethan Zhang suspiciously, sizing him up before finally speaking.
"Let’s talk, Ethan. We’ve got a case that’s been unresolved for ages. We need your help."
"Go ahead."
Just two simple words slipped from Ethan Zhang’s lips. He agreed without a hint of hesitation.
Images flashed rapidly before my eyes. Now, I could see more clearly than ever. In Ethan Zhang, I saw someone who never backed down—reckless, perhaps, but never afraid.
"I will protect them..."
Rachel Lan’s cry echoed, and beside her, Ethan Zhang wore an expression of sorrow and helplessness. Their faces seemed to merge—both stubborn, neither willing to back down.
I snapped awake, dazed. A streak of violet light—my eyes opened to see it shimmering from the fruit on a strange tree. The glow was like the most painful memory I carried: those flashes of purple light.
It wasn’t a dream. I slept soundly, but what was that heavy, muffled sound in my sleep?
My stomach rumbled with hunger, but I didn’t eat the fruit right away. Eight pieces remained—the only thing in this world that could restore my strength.
The wind howled, mournful and cold. In this abandoned amusement park, someone’s discarded dream lingered—only a hollow façade, nothing real beneath.
I’d begun to understand how this world was built. I wandered the amusement park, waiting for 016 to arrive. All great power is born from illusion—this desolate realm sprang from humanity’s empty hopes, dreams that never came true and died in the face of harsh reality.
I climbed up beside the Ferris wheel. The air was still bitterly cold, but my strength hadn’t faded at all. This kind of chill meant nothing to me.
I gazed at the distant, faintly visible white snowfields, hanging in the sky like a silken ribbon.
The air grew warmer, and the sky lightened. I looked out over the endless Frostwild—yellow and barren, streaked with pale white.
Gradually, I realized something: the harsh environment here didn’t affect the Forsaken objects at all. In these temperatures, the amusement park should have been frozen solid.