"Void, do me a favor."

"Huh?"

The Void Tunnel had no beginning and no end. It spanned like a cold ocean, fathomless and without shore.

It was the only passage linking every World, a carnival ground for the Void-Forgetters. It felt dead, icy, and hollow, a winter desert where even Deities loathed to linger.

They only borrowed it when crossing Worlds, like travelers skimming a frozen river. They never tarried; even Deities would have their minds eroded by this bleak chill if they stayed.

Black used to be the theme here, like ink spread across eternity.

Then that woman appeared, and blue took the throne.

She was the kind of presence that made the word “queen” spring to mind, like a crown falling from the sky.

She curled lazily in the Void, her silhouette a slow tide, curves poised with effortless arrogance. Two long, white legs crossed, sketching a line that set blood surging.

She lay sidelong in the dark, head tucked into the crook of her arm, one ice-blue eye half revealed, as deep as a petrified sea. Her otherworldly blue hair fell like a waterfall to her pale ankles.

Her slender fingers stirred those strands without care, like reeds teased by wind. A cool blue radiance flowed from her skin, alluring, languid, lethal.

The light looked gentle, like moonwash on a lake. The way the Void-Forgetters fled, trembling, told the real story—this glow killed.

This woman was one of the Deities—Void.

Once, in a foul mood, she sliced open the entire Void Tunnel with a single whim, like a blade parting silk.

Another time, tired of waiting, she punched through the border between the α line and the β line. Wei had to pay dearly to rewind time on a grand scale, downgrading the α world line to α-1, just to keep Ye Weibai from learning the truth.

Misfortune’s Little Ash had said it before: Void was an extreme headache. Coming from Little Ash, a rascal by nature, “extreme” meant something.

Even the famed War Deity, Scarlet, got tangled up by her for so long she nearly missed her duel with Little Ash and Nightfall. For a fighter like Scarlet, even mentioning Void drew a pinch between the brows.

Her fame, though, wasn’t her combat strength, nor her fearless loitering in the Void Tunnel. It was her title—the neurotic, brother-obsessed Deity.

Among a thousand shapes of Deity, she was notorious. Her actions felt aimless, like a kite with a cut string. Yet once anything touched the “little brother” whose soul had burned out of the cycle eons ago, she snapped.

Anyone who ran into her left rubbing their temples, cursing their luck.

"A favor?"

Void’s empty gaze rippled, like frost stirred by breath. Her pupils stayed unfocused, sight cast nowhere. "Not interested."

"..." The voice, hidden who knew where, sounded unsurprised. It sighed, light as dust. "Even if it has to do with your ‘little brother’—"

BOOM—!

It was like ten thousand blue stars exploding at once.

Ice-blue light burst out, a storm, a tidal wave, an end-of-the-world flare. It swept the surroundings in an instant, devouring miles upon miles.

Countless Void-Forgetters were shredded to mist, ground into powder.

In that blue festival of fireworks, Void rose to her full height. Her waterfall hair lashed wild. Her blue robes snapped against the wind. Pale, sleek thighs flashed between folds of cloth.

Her eyes brightened, her smile bloomed, joy and hunger flooding in like spring.

"My little brother?!"

...

The 9th time.

One hand propped the desk. He just sat on the tabletop, casual as a cat. Ye Weibai picked up the ringing phone without hurry.

Receiver near his lips, he stared at the white ceiling, lazy as noon heat.

As expected, the other side spoke first.

"Hello."

This time, Ye Weibai didn’t answer. He let the silence stretch like a held breath, then sighed.

"Hey, can’t we talk like normal people?"

Bzz—

"Great. Here we go again. Girl, let’s use a language we both get. Makes life easier."

Bzz bzz—

"You’ve almost killed me ten times. How about this—I’ve got a proposal. Hear me out—"

Bzz bzz bzz bzz bzz bzz—!

Slash.

Blood sprayed like red rain.

...

The 10th time.

He opened his eyes again. Light and focus surged in Ye Weibai’s gaze like dawn cresting a ridge.

"I see..."

He stood still, watching the phone as if it were a mirror. The corner of his mouth lifted, a quiet smile drawn with a fine brush.

"Some things… I can probably confirm."

"In this world, every move serves a purpose. You snatched me mid-route, locked me in this ten-square-meter box, kept killing me, then reviving me. What for?"

Time pressed. Ye Weibai sorted the clues in his head, careful and quick, knowledge sifted from earlier deaths like panning gold.

That was all. He’d died nine times, crossed that many Worlds. His nature had shown its grain. He wasn’t arguing with the girl on the phone for fun. He wasn’t the type to give up and wait for death.

He was running experiments.

On himself.

It looked like every run ended in death. But the timing changed. Or put another way—the first “bzz” didn’t always land at the same moment.

The fastest was the first loop. If he didn’t pick up the phone, then after 15 seconds (eyes open to ring) + 4 seconds (ring to unseen blades shredding him), he died at 19 seconds flat.

The slowest was the last run. He kept silent on purpose before he answered. Each Q&A bought him about 3 seconds of silence. He could squeeze two of those in. Six seconds total.

Add roughly 5 seconds of speaking. The first bzz felt like a warm-up. It was usually the third bzz that finished him—maybe it only knocked him out cold, but that’d complicate the model. He’d count that as losing the ability to act. For now, good enough.

Take the first run as origin. Take the last as endpoint. Plot a curve. Put each loop’s “survival time” in between.

Y-axis: survival time. X-axis: what Ye Weibai did.

You’d get a graph out of it, a rough coast traced in ink.

He “looked” at the curve forming in the air as his thoughts cleared, like stars lighting a night-sky chart. Ye Weibai’s eyes grew bright.

"I see. So that’s how it is..."

Nine loops summarized. His actions sorted, classified, and guessed. The final inference would tie to the Unknown’s purpose for bringing him here, thread to needle.

Strange? Not really. The Unknown hadn’t shown itself, but it was watching through some hidden crack. At the very least—it set a Rule.

That Rule killed him again and again.

At the same time, the Rule exposed the Unknown’s aim.

Because Rules exist to be followed, not to rack up corpses. If it wanted him dead, it could’ve butchered him on repeat. Why bother with a phone?

What did the Rule want Ye Weibai to do—what did the Unknown want him to do?

"It’s pretty clear already, isn’t it?"

Fifteen seconds passed in a blink.

Tring~ tring~ tring~

The landline sang again, crisp as glass.

Ye Weibai let the smile fade. He stepped forward and reached out his hand...