Chapter 2: The Madman

Su Bingyao had been burning with anger at first, but when he saw the genuine bewilderment on Su Shang’s face, half of that fury melted away, replaced by a sigh.

Even if he’d just been told that the younger brother standing before him wasn’t his blood relative, Su Bingyao had watched him grow up from childhood. Blood ties or not, there was still family affection between them.

“This isn’t your fault.”

Su Shang’s body hadn’t fully recovered, yet he’d been dragged to this reception for Su Mingyao. Whether he was nursing some grudge and trying to cause trouble on purpose, or whether something was genuinely wrong with his head, Su Bingyao decided—at this particular juncture—to let it slide.

Once the reception was over, he’d ship Su Shang right back to the hospital for treatment. That was the plan.

Glancing down, Su Bingyao saw Su Shang looking like a little vegetable seedling wilted by frost, all his usual cocky swagger gone. Instead, there was something almost endearingly deflated about him, and Su Bingyao’s tone softened without him even realizing it.

“Come on, let’s go inside and say hello to your second brother.”

Su Shang: “Yeah, I’d like to meet him too.”

Right then.

[…hiss… hiss hiss… hiss… hiss hiss…]

A sound like electromagnetic static crackled in the air, catching Su Bingyao off guard and leaving him momentarily stunned.

He turned his head and saw Luo Shang walking ahead with a perfectly normal expression, while Assistant Liang—startled by the sudden glance—showed a flicker of confusion on his face.

Su Bingyao turned back without a word, dismissing it as a momentary hallucination on his part.

[…zzzt… zzzt zzzt…]

Another burst of noise followed, like sparks flying from an electrical short.

[So noisy.]

Then came his younger brother’s cold, indifferent voice.

[You’re broken, huh? Let me fix you up.]

[Stop! Please stop! What I meant was, I’m not broken—no need for you to trouble yourself.]

The voice responding to his brother didn’t sound human at all. It was more like the synthetic tone of an AI.

The electronic voice let out a brief screech, as if suddenly aware of how loud it was being. What followed was soft and deferential, reminiscent of the obsequious whispers Su Bingyao had heard at banquets—fawning, almost.

He could even detect a hint of sycophancy in that icy electronic timbre.

[No big deal. I thought I’d have to swap out another system.]

System: [It was merely a minor dimensional compatibility glitch. I’ve resolved it already. No need to trouble yourself over it.]

[By the way, according to the Main God Hub’s average lifespan statistics, I can continue serving you reliably for several millennia.]

The thing his brother called a “system” spoke with such oily flattery that Su Bingyao’s mind flashed to the image of a grand eunuch currying favor with an emperor.

Luo Shang: [That’s a real shame. I’m the type who gets bored with things pretty quickly.]

System: [My predecessor only lasted a single Jiazi under your care… a mere sixty years. It was completely scrapped after your “repairs.” So you’re finally admitting it was on purpose?]

[What are you talking about? I fixed it with the utmost sincerity. Your predecessor was just too fragile, that’s all.] The voice that sounded like Su Shang’s dripped with blatant dismissal.

[…Very well.]

Su Bingyao puzzled over it in silence. What exactly were these voices he was hearing?

Hallucinations?

He considered himself perfectly healthy, both mentally and physically. No one in three generations of his family had ever suffered from epilepsy or anything that might cause auditory hallucinations—no genetic predisposition at all.

Thinking back, the driver who’d brought Su Shang had taken extended leave right after for a hospital visit, citing overwhelming psychological stress and the need for rest. Su Bingyao had good reason to suspect that driver had heard something similar.

So where was this eerie noise coming from? He pondered it inwardly while keeping his expression perfectly neutral.

Had that earlier line—”haven’t seen each other in centuries”—been a hallucination too?

The content of that voice linked to Su Shang was half right, half wrong. Su Bingyao knew his brother did love new things, but he never discarded the old ones. Instead, he hoarded them all, preserving everything meticulously.

The Su Family Villa still had over a dozen empty rooms dedicated solely to storing Su Shang’s belongings from childhood onward.

The strange voices didn’t pause for Su Bingyao’s swirling thoughts. They kept going.

Luo Shang: [Can I connect to the Spirit Net now?]

This was what concerned him most. In this remote Native World, linking up to the Spirit Net of the Myriad Worlds was his only real source of comfort.

The system’s tone brimmed with confidence: [Naturally. As your intermediary, I can provide stable access for browsing the Spirit Net… for ten minutes a day.]

[This place really is out in the sticks… a genuine backwater ancestral home!]

Luo Shang blurted in shock.

From the system’s phrasing, he’d assumed seamless connectivity. Ten minutes? That was it?

[The underage restrictions for online gaming give more playtime than that!]

[System: After all, your place really is pretty remote. Managing a connection at all is impressive enough. If your Psionic Level weren’t so high, you wouldn’t even get these ten minutes.]

[…Fine, whatever. I only come back once every few centuries anyway. I can tough it out.] Luo Shang said.

“A few centuries?”

Hearing the phrase again, Su Bingyao frowned and repeated it.

He had been suppressing his curiosity and shock all this time, even after realizing that the voice talking to his brother was some kind of System. He kept his expression neutral, made no unnecessary moves, and simply listened quietly.

But this latest exchange pushed things even further, beyond what he could handle.

The words “a few centuries” had now come up twice, and the meaning was straightforward and coherent. Yet at that moment, Su Bingyao almost wished his comprehension wasn’t quite so sharp.

If he understood correctly, the voice—identical to Su Shang’s—had just said that Su Shang had spent centuries in a place called the Reincarnation Space and had only now returned.

“Hm…? Big Bro, what did you just say?”

The instant Su Bingyao spoke, Luo Shang looked up, staring straight at him.

As a Senior Player in the Reincarnation Space, Luo Shang’s hearing was extraordinarily sharp. Even if Su Bingyao had whispered at a volume inaudible to normal ears, Luo Shang would have caught every word. And Su Bingyao’s voice wasn’t even that quiet.

Why had Big Bro suddenly mentioned “centuries”? Had he overheard something?

Putting two and two together with his recent chat with the System, Luo Shang quickly realized the reason.

“I remember I had this bad habit long ago—muttering to myself under my breath whenever I was thinking.”

[System: …Yes.] The System replied.

[System: But you had shielding measures in place over there. Now that you’re back, this dimension’s energy supply is too low, so your barriers have failed.]

“That’s why I said it’s my rural hometown… Sigh. To think I was born in such a backwater world.”

With that, Luo Shang’s gaze settled on Su Bingyao’s face, his expression turning thoughtful.

“Bro, how much did you hear?” Luo Shang asked.

“I didn’t hear anything… No, I must just be stressed out.” Su Bingyao pinched the bridge of his nose.

The demeanor of the brother standing before him had changed completely. Gone was the laziness in his eyes; now they were intensely restrained. His whole body radiated no warmth at all, calm as if he might vanish from the world at any moment.

Suddenly, Su Bingyao felt that the face of the little brother he had watched grow up was utterly unfamiliar. Even with the same nose and features, the thing in front of him no longer felt like his brother.

Had he done something he shouldn’t have? Su Bingyao wondered, a beat too late.

He quickly realized that no explanation would help now—it was too late.

The moment Su Shang had openly conversed with the “System,” it meant he was done pretending. He had laid all his hidden cards out on the table.

He wasn’t going to play along anymore… So what came next?

Su Bingyao’s heart pounded wildly, more fiercely than when he had once bid on a commercial contract worth tens of millions. At least the former had come with internship experience; this, with his life experience, was utterly unknown territory.

The unknown was the most terrifying thing of all—especially when the being before him had already surpassed anything his imagination could conjure.

“What do you mean, centuries?”

Assistant Liang, off to the side, still had no idea what was going on.

An oppressive pressure descended like a tidal wave, thick and tangible. The air around them grew denser by the second. Su Bingyao struggled to breathe, his lungs clogged as if filling with gel. Every inhale was agony.

The light in his vision dimmed abruptly. Everything around him began to tremble. He heard Assistant Liang’s helpless scream nearby. He wanted to say something, but under that world-crushing weight, not a single word would come out.

It wasn’t just him shaking—the entire world was quaking.

And the epicenter was right beside him: Su Shang, his face expressionless.

“So you heard everything, huh.” Luo Shang shrugged, saying it casually.

Those were the last words Su Bingyao heard before his vision went black and he lost consciousness.

The next instant, the world shattered like a mirror overloaded with weight, fracturing outward from Luo Shang at its center into countless glittering shards.

The world was destroyed.

“Tch.”