The molten blood-jade seethed in Lin Wan's palm. Her obstetric gloves, sheathed in stardust from a hundred thousand bullet comments, pierced through flesh to touch the antimatter core. The fetus's vertical pupil contracted violently, reflecting three overlapping faces—on the warlord's screen, Shen Living's features were being scorched by an Egyptian scarab emblem.
"Trading this calamity for your husband's eternal freedom—what a bargain?" Terra-cotta fragments rained from his military collar, each etched with Andromeda's eagle insignia.
The golden hairpin vibrated against the fetus's brow. Empress Wu's corpse poison surged upward, blooming blue-green patterns of Tang palace makeup across Lin Wan's arm. "So every reincarnation..." Her teeth bared in a glacial smile, "...you've trafficked living souls?"
Bones cracked on the dissection table. The [Dad's Nutrition Pack] engraving on Shen Living's chest detonated into light. Soul marrow coalesced into a bronze arrow—its arrowhead a miniature terracotta warrior helmet—shooting toward the screen's left eye!
"He's using my skin to lure our child!" Shen howled from the dissection table, his eye sockets void-black, crumbling fingers still shaped like when he'd pinned her hair long ago.
Liquid gold gushed from the hairpin. Empress Wu, fused with Shen Ai's mechanical wreckage, lunged at Zhou Yongnian's mech. The hieroglyphic tentacles of Cleopatra's hologram tangled with amniotic Buddha hands.
"Consort, assist your emperor!" The corpse-shriek shattered consoles. Shen Ai's jaw detached, revealing bronze strikers from an underground palace bell. "Rainbow Skirt Dance" blended with corpse poison exploded outward—440Hz soundwaves precisely activated the terracotta nanochips. Zhou's mech erupted with rotten mortise-tenon joints as Tang dynasty bracket patterns spread like rust-cancer across titanium alloy.
"Is that...Zhaoling Mausoleum's burial chime?" Sparks flashed in the mech's pupils. Nile data streams and corpse malice copulated in its chest, birthing a Tai Chi-shaped viral embryo pulsing with Chang'an's streets.
Lin Wan's umbilical cord stabbed the embryo like a scalpel. When she tore the membrane, Pharaoh's mummy codes and Giant Wild Goose Pagoda relics gushed forth.
"Be good, baby," her bloodied lips pressed against the vertical pupil, "feast on this civilization banquet."
A hundred thousand bullet comments crashed through the fetus's fontanelle. Blood-jade bracelet fragments grew and whirled—a wormhole gateway tore open!
From the left door stretched a cyber-arhat's mechanical arm, coolant dripping as rebirth mantras; the right door crawled with mutilated colonial slaves, spine tags still oozing blood. As the axis ground terracotta shards to dust, the bronze starship engine's drone severed Myanmar's satellite signal.
The warlord sneered as he ripped off his face. Beneath lay not flesh, but a screen flashing golden subscriber counts: "Welcome to the cross-dimensional slave auction!"
With every ten thousand new subscribers, Shen's bronze arrow corroded. Lin Wan suddenly thrust the hairpin into the axis, hooking out a strand of Buddha-light—its DNA helix shrieking with readers' voices.
"Patrons!" Her bloodied hand strangled the radiance, "Gift me a dissection!"
Amidst the detonating subscriber counter, the Lishan underground palace dome erupted. Falling terracotta shards hailed onto consoles, revealing nanochip arrays glowing with "Lin" sigils. Shen's soul-arrow flickered one last time, merging into the terracotta figurehead's eye sockets.
"So the dowry was a planet-killer ship?" Lin Wan's laugh yanked the umbilical cord. The fetus's pupil shot a navigation beam across cosmic graveyards: a cyber-Buddha skull in the Indian Ocean pierced by a hairpin; vacuum decay bubbles freezing droplets reflecting Shwedagon Pagoda; colonial ruins studded with scripture-carved Qin crossbows.
The terracotta figurehead turned its neck, ceramic grinding like bridal silk brushing her veil long ago.
"Destination: Second Universe—" The bronze voice shattered laboratory domes, "to collect blood debts from slavers!"
As azure flames burst from the stern, "Rainbow Skirt Dance" sheet music combusted in the void. Lin Wan clutched the Buddha-light-suckling fetus, bloody glove pressed into the console's blood-jade imprint. When the ship pierced the atmosphere, she suddenly smelled cryo-pod fluid—identical to her ruptured amniotic scent.
"Calamity Control Department," the fetus's pupil mirrored swirling nebulae beyond the bridge, "warp to the Dimensional War!"
Corpse-poison's sandalwood stench suddenly tainted the musical flames. None noticed the blackish rust—unique to Empress Wu's hairpin—seeping from the terracotta warrior's finger joints.