Chapter 9

[No, it’s not necessarily him defending me!] Luo Shang pointed out.

[He might just scold me for running too fast.]

[Just listen to what he has to say first!!] The System was practically screaming.

[If he’s wrong, you can always destroy the world later.]

[Fine.] Luo Shang agreed.

Su Bingyao inwardly cheered for this entity called the System, then immediately voiced his stance.

“Maybe his wheelchair is electric. That speed would be perfectly normal.”

Su Bingyao said.

Li Qingshu was still baffled by Su Shang’s earlier words. There were clearly only three people here, yet she’d heard a fourth voice.

It sounded like it emanated from some mechanical outlet—a timbre no human throat could produce.

And Su Shang had called it the “System.”

Could the Boss be right after all? Did Su Shang really have problems? Li Qingshu wondered, torn between shock and uncertainty.

Their follow-up exchange with the “System” delved even into talk of “destroying the world”—was that real too?!

Li Qingshu had never encountered anything so fantastical. For a moment, she wondered if she was hallucinating—until Su Bingyao pinched her hard from behind. The sharp pain snapped her back to reality.

Too preoccupied to dwell on his impudent gesture, she fixed her gaze intently on Su Shang, prompting him to reach up and touch his face.

[Big Bro is still Big Bro. Good excuse. But he doesn’t know this isn’t actually an electric wheelchair, does he?]

[From a normal person’s perspective, anything that moves that fast has to be electric, right?]

Su Shang accepted the explanation! Su Bingyao let out the breath he’d been holding.

[But Big Bro’s eyesight seems a bit off. My wheelchair doesn’t have any electric parts at all.]

[He probably just doesn’t know much about wheelchairs.] The System jumped in quickly.

You’re complaining about my eyesight after I covered for you… whatever. Su Bingyao restrained himself from glancing at the wheelchair Su Shang occupied.

[That leaves Mom. Does she think I’m normal?]

Now the test fell to Li Qingshu!

[Mom should be able to tell this isn’t electric, right…? Huh?]

[What if she doesn’t know either? Can you stop fixating on destroying the world? Are you addicted to it or something?!]

The System’s tone held a note of helpless exasperation, on the verge of tears.

Su Bingyao caught a fleeting smile tug at Luo Shang’s lips.

[Probably.]

[Probably??!] The System shrieked again.

That basically confirmed it—he really was hooked!

[Have you heard the story of the elephant and the stake? When it’s a baby elephant, they tie it to a wooden stake. It strains with all its might but can’t break free. Over time, it imprints the idea that the stake is invincible.]

[So when it grows into a full-grown elephant, that same tiny stake still holds it back—even though it could yank it out effortlessly now. Yet it stays bound, unable to move.]

This world was that stake for him.

The System grasped the implication behind Luo Shang’s words.

Luo Shang didn’t respond to that. Instead, he circled back to the System’s earlier question.

[A world that shackled my first half of life… now I could destroy it effortlessly. That feeling is just too damn good.]

The sensation of holding his own destiny in his hands was exquisite.

No longer dictated by that so-called “Plot,” no longer manipulated in ignorance—his life was his own, his ending his to shape.

Even if joining the Reincarnation Space meant forsaking his life of luxury as a pampered heir, trading it for a precarious existence where he went to bed each night unsure if he’d see the dawn.

Even if it meant countless grievous wounds, dancing on the knife’s edge between life and death.

Perhaps his ultimate fate would prove even more wretched than the one originally scripted—his soul annihilated entirely, barred from reincarnation…

But it would still be his choice.

A life unbound by anyone, unshackled from that laughable “Destiny.”

That was why, upon learning the entirety of his future Plot, Su Shang had resolutely entered the Reincarnation Space to become a Player.

The Reincarnation Space brimmed with killing intent and peril at every turn. To reach this point—where he could casually take leave to return home and rest—Luo Shang had poured in untold effort and weathered countless trials. Even he had lost track.

Round after round of Reincarnation Games ground down their participants like colossal millstones, shattering and remolding them endlessly. Even the sanest person, after repeated brushes with death and narrow escapes, would inevitably warp into madness.

The system, sourced from the Main God’s Sub-body, knew this all too well. Its main body had witnessed countless players wailing and screaming in such hellish ordeals, only to emerge as madmen and lunatics in the eyes of ordinary folk.

Luo Shang wasn’t the first, nor would he be the last.

He had come out after all… but a little hobby like destroying the world and rebuilding it? No problem at all.

The system secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

Truth be told, up until now, the system had been on tenterhooks. It had no idea when Luo Shang might snap, or when he might reveal his anomaly in this world full of normal people.

The unknown was always the most terrifying thing.

But now that Luo Shang had finally exposed his “anomaly,” the system could truly relax.

Compared to the other lunatics in the Reincarnation Space, Luo Shang’s current “preference” was downright mild.

He hadn’t committed racial genocide in this world. He hadn’t forcibly fused it with other worlds. He hadn’t strapped a dimensional bomb to it and used it to blow up somewhere else…

He had simply followed its advice—destroying the world to avoid exposing his “anomaly,” then rebuilding it afterward. How gentle was that?

Of course, destroying the world still had its impacts on this place and posed obstacles to his goals. It ought to talk him out of it if possible.

But for Su Bingyao and Li Qingshu—two ordinary people who had never entered the Reincarnation Space, never truly grasped what those ravaging madmen were like, and never seen the wider world—the conversation between Su Shang and the system was pure nightmare fuel.

As Luo Shang casually recounted his experiences in the Reincarnation Space, the two of them simultaneously received a barrage of fragmented images.

These weren’t conveyed through sound or text; they were just fleeting snippets, like the last flickers on a TV screen before the signal cuts out entirely.

In an endless darkness, patterns rose and fell like mountain ranges. They emanated an aura of death, antiquity, and primal savagery. Jagged spikes protruded from the ground, sharp enough to tear through the Void itself. As the perspective pulled back, it became clear this wasn’t land at all—it was the corpse of a colossal dragon, fully the size of two mountains!

Its deformed skull housed eye sockets of abyssal darkness, as if they could devour all light. Resentment poured from them, a silent wail of defiance. Then the image shattered under the slash of a blade—a knife so thin and razor-sharp that from the side, its edge was nearly invisible. That blade had severed the dragon’s head, reducing the beast to a pile of bleached bones.

If that were all, Li Qingshu and Su Bingyao might not have been so utterly terrified.

But as the view traced upward along the knife’s edge, they spotted a figure both familiar and utterly alien.

Familiar, because its owner stood right in front of them.

Alien, because its aura was so inhuman, so profoundly otherworldly, that even gazing upon that face—identical to Luo Shang’s—Su Bingyao couldn’t believe it belonged to the same person. It felt like staring at an impostor.

And then there were those eyes: pupils of molten gold.

The final image showed the figure glancing downward. There was no emotion in that gaze, only the cold indifference of a heaven and earth that treated all things as straw dogs. Then an boundless pressure surged forth, and the scene plunged into darkness.

Even these mere fragments revealed enough to chill Li Qingshu and Su Bingyao to their cores.

Li Qingshu’s fingers, hidden in her sleeves, trembled uncontrollably. Su Bingyao wasn’t faring much better—his legs had turned to jelly, barely holding him upright. If he weren’t terrified of showing weakness in front of Su Shang, he would have collapsed to his knees right then and there.

What the hell was that Reincarnation Space?

Compared to the Su Shang standing before them now, the old Su Shang—the one who had loved teasing cats and dogs, a good-for-nothing playboy—seemed so adorable, so innocently pure!

The disdain Li Qingshu had once felt for that earlier version of him had flipped entirely into regret.

If her previous regrets had only been fleeting thoughts, this one was bone-deep and real.

She regretted rashly telling Su Shang about the incident, regretted ignoring him afterward, which had soured his mood and led to that reckless high-speed crash off the cliff—plunging him into that infernal Reincarnation Space and creating the monster he was today.

No wonder Boss had been so desperate to stop her… No wonder he had booked that psychiatrist…

Every one of Su Bingyao’s bizarre actions suddenly made perfect sense. His frantic urgency stemmed from Su Shang’s real propensity—and ability—to destroy worlds. The doctor’s appointment? The overwhelming stress of dealing with Su Shang.

Unfortunately, she hadn’t seen the truth right away. Instead, she had misunderstood him… and Su Shang.

In mere seconds, Li Qingshu pieced it all together.

So, the choice laid right before her.

Could she tell that this was an electric wheelchair, or not…?

Of course, she had to pretend she couldn’t!

Only an idiot would admit she could spot it wasn’t an ordinary wheelchair—that would mean she’d noticed his anomaly, and the end result would be the entire world getting obliterated!

“Is it… an electric wheelchair?” Li Qingshu tried her best to keep her voice from trembling.

She couldn’t let him discover it. She couldn’t let this monster in front of her realize she was afraid of him. She couldn’t let him find out she’d already spotted the anomaly!

She turned her head away, putting on a show of scolding Big Bro.

“How could you arrange an electric wheelchair for your little brother? He just got out of the hospital, and his body’s not fully recovered yet. How could you do that as his big brother?”

Perfect—Mom must have noticed it too! Otherwise, she wouldn’t be going along with what I said!

Hearing Li Qingshu’s words, Su Bingyao felt like a man dying of thirst finally getting a sip of sweet dew. If Luo Shang weren’t still there, he would’ve broken down in grateful tears.

“Sorry, I must’ve been too busy and forgotten. I thought an electric wheelchair would give him more freedom, so he could go wherever he wanted on his own without Little Liang having to push him everywhere…”

Su Bingyao immediately admitted his mistake.

“Don’t scold Big Bro. I asked Little Liang to switch it to electric myself,” Luo Shang said indifferently.

[She didn’t notice…] His heart voice carried a hint of regret.

[What a shame. I can’t destroy the world again just for fun.]

[She didn’t notice…] The System’s voice sounded like it had just survived a catastrophe.

[You can vent your destructive desires elsewhere. Please be kinder to your native world.] It advised him.

“I had Little Liang switch it to electric for me because I like high speeds. He pushes way too slow.”

He drawled this explanation to Li Qingshu and Su Bingyao.

The trigger that had sent Luo Shang into the Reincarnation Space back then was a high-speed joyride off a cliff—he just loved that thrill of velocity.

“Of course, if Mom doesn’t like it, I can switch back,” Luo Shang added.

If she hadn’t yet realized the true nature of this Su Shang standing before her, Li Qingshu definitely wouldn’t have liked it.

What was the point of going that fast? It wasn’t steady or mature at all.

Worst of all, it had blown dust all over her hair and face, ruining the styling she’d so carefully prepared. She’d have confiscated the electric wheelchair in a heartbeat and given him a good scolding to boot.

But now?

Su Shang could do whatever the hell he wanted! As long as he didn’t destroy the world, anything was negotiable!

“It’s not that I don’t like it. As long as your body can handle it, it’s fine,” Li Qingshu said.

Of course, she couldn’t come off as too eager yet—too sudden a shift in attitude would raise suspicions too. This Su Shang wasn’t easy to fool anymore… She had to act as close to normal as possible and gradually make changes from there…

[When did she get this gentle? Is my memory messing up?] Luo Shang wondered inwardly.

[I could’ve sworn she’d usually chew me out at a time like this.]

Li Qingshu clenched her molars hard into the soft flesh inside her cheek, the sharp pain jolting her enough to keep her from passing out.

From the sound of Su Shang’s thoughts, did she have no choice but to scold him?

This… what was she supposed to do?

Did she really have to scold him? Li Qingshu didn’t dare raise her voice to him at all right now.

[It’s been a few hundred years, after all—my memories might be a bit fuzzy. Plus, that person’s officially back today, so Mom’s in a good mood and skipping the lecture isn’t impossible.]

Luo Shang wasn’t particularly set on getting scolded either. With that heart voice out, Li Qingshu immediately breathed a sigh of relief.

But before she could fully exhale, she latched onto another detail.

The “that person” Su Shang mentioned—was that…?

Her own son, Su Mingyao?

This was bad!

Su Mingyao absolutely couldn’t stand a chance against this dragon-slaying monster!