Like a dream, as if waking from a grand illusion, An Yi snapped back from the dark silence. He stood unharmed at the usual street racing rest stop. Unreal chatter buzzed around him. He stared blankly at the crowd, utterly lost.

Hadn’t there been a horrific crash? Weren’t they all dead? Why… why was everything perfectly fine now?! Could it all have been just a dream? Or a hallucination?? Those vivid memories of agony, that final sigh at death’s edge—they were crystal clear, unforgettable. If someone claimed it was all fake now, he’d think he’d gone mad.

“Yi-ge! It’s starting—get in the car!” someone urged the dazed An Yi, just like always. The gleaming motorcycle helmet, symbol of this highway’s king, was shoved into his hands. Instinctively, he lifted it toward his head—but a hoarse, low voice echoed in his ears.

Like touching a cold venomous snake, An Yi flung the helmet—his prized treasure, his honor—aside. The noisy crowd fell deathly silent. That was Young Master An’s most valued helmet! Others got beaten for just smudging it! Now he’d tossed it on the ground!

What had happened to make An Yi, who lived for racing, act so… bizarre…

“I need some quiet—don’t ask who Jingjing is,” he joked, forcing a stiff smile as he slowly walked away. Clutching his phone tightly, he knew one thing: he wasn’t dead… not yet.

Reaching the quiet road’s entrance, An Yi’s face turned deathly pale! There it was—the sedan from his memory, parked calmly as if waiting. After hesitation, he gritted his teeth and approached. Still dizzy, he had to uncover the truth—even if the most dangerous super-criminal waited inside.

The door was unlocked. An Yi slid into the passenger seat. Beside him sat Mirror October in a black coat with red lining. Spotless white gloves tapped the steering wheel playfully. A faint, gentle smile rested on his pale, indistinct face.

“Why…” So many questions choked An Yi, but only that single word escaped. Why wasn’t he dead? Hadn’t he died in that game?

“Because it was all just an illusion. Simply put—I lied to you. Go ahead, sue me.” Mirror October sounded amused, inviting a lawsuit. If suing him fixed anything, that’d be the real joke.

“…”

“I know your doubts. Think my game was just a joke? Heh heh, An Yi. Ignorant fools twist it into bloody punishment. They miss its core—a test of humanity, a lesson. If you refuse to repent, won’t change… that illusory ending becomes reality.” Cold sweat drenched An Yi! If he’d died full of hatred, unrepentant… he’d be dead now. His friends’ fates were clear too. Like a dream, an illusion—when it blends with reality, even replaces it, Mirror October toyed with everything effortlessly. Near-invincible power—the dreamlike might of the top-tier Dire Calamity!

“The game is over. Truly.”

This time, it was final. Mirror October, having seen all, was satisfied. He wasn’t the bloodthirsty monster people claimed. Quite the opposite—he enforced harsh justice his own way.

A heavy weariness washed over An Yi. Like returning to the womb, deep peace filled his mind and body. His eyelids grew heavy. At the game’s end, he’d been redeemed… redeemed by the super-criminal Saw, from his endless cowardice and escape.

He closed his eyes. An Yi really wanted to thank Saw himself…

“No need to thank me. No survivor ever thanks the culprit, An Yi.” Mirror October smiled warmly at the peaceful, reborn An Yi—like a child at rest. That rare smile only appeared for those who understood his game. Mirror October felt truly happy. Hopelessly so.

“The game’s over, An Yi. But if—if you ever relapse into those unbreakable bad habits, I’ll invite you again.” Mistakes aren’t scary; refusing to repent is worse. Worse still is repenting but falling back. “See it as a test—from the unceasing Saw’s gaze of us disciples in the darkness.”

“I told you—I despise those who destroy their own lives. They disrespect life itself. You, reborn and redeemed, will see life anew. Heh heh. Most live without gratitude. But not you. Never again…” Mirror October had seen countless who took life for granted. Ironically, that’s why they couldn’t truly live.

They didn’t cherish each breath, each sip of water, never thanked life. Mirror October gazed at the numb world, the mechanical masses causing it, filled with pity.

“Well, time to say goodbye, An Yi. …Sweet dreams. When you wake—don’t forget to turn yourself in.”

Mirror October studied the deeply sleeping An Yi, that hard-won peace like his finest artwork. Slowly, his figure blurred and vanished from the car.

Dreamers, flowers in mirrors—all illusions. But… who says illusions can’t be real? Sometimes, against harsh reality, illusions are more alluring. Even knowing it’s fake, one can’t help but give everything for it!