[AUTHOR'S NOTE]
The Audit is closed. We have witnessed the rise of the Grand Shaman. We have seen him enslave the Kings of Hell. Now, we witness his death. And more importantly... we witness how he cheated. Next Chapter: The Product Launch begins.
[TIMELINE: 2,000 YEARS AGO]
[LOCATION: RUINS OF THE IMPERIAL CAPITAL]
Silence.
The screaming of the demons had stopped. The begging of the traitor families had ceased. Even the wind had died, as if the air itself was afraid to vibrate in the presence of what was coming.
The only thing remaining was the Light.
It poured down from the White Eye in the sky—a pillar of absolute, sterile purity. It didn't burn like fire; it didn't cut like a blade. It simply Erased. Where the light touched the palace walls, the stone didn't crumble. It vanished—deleted from the source code of reality.
Ren Wu stood in the center of the ruin.
He was missing his left arm. His ribs were crushed into a jagged mess of bone and internal bleeding. His golden blood—the concentrated essence of a Tier-SSS Shaman—was nearly dry. He held the Bone Brush in his remaining hand.
"You are late," Ren rasped, staring up at the Eye. "I finished the paperwork hours ago."
The Eye did not blink. It did not care about his wit, his victory over Hell, or the thousands of souls he had just balanced in the Great Ledger. To the Eye, Ren Wu was not a hero. He was a Glitch. A mortal who had accumulated too much Authority. A variable that threatened the stability of the equation.
[THE ARCHIVE REJECTS THE ENTRY]
[PROTOCOL: ERASURE FROM THE LEDGER]
The voice wasn't a sound. It was a vibration in Ren's marrow.
"Unauthorized?" Ren laughed, a wet, broken sound that sprayed gold onto the white tile. "I am the only one keeping this world spinning. I fixed the Cycle!"
[CORRECTION: YOU BROKE THE CYCLE.]
[THE CYCLE REQUIRES FUEL. YOU STOLE THE FUEL.]
The pillar of light widened. It touched the edge of Ren's robes. The fabric didn't burn; it dissolved into white static. Ren tried to lift the Bone Brush—the artifact that had enslaved the Ten Yamas—but the pressure of the Light was absolute. It locked his joints. It froze his meridians.
Snap.
The handle of the Bone Brush shattered. The bristles disintegrated. Ren was unarmed.
"So that is how it works," Ren whispered, his vision beginning to turn into white noise. "You don't want a Manager. You want a Battery."
[THE DELETION]
Pain would have been a mercy. This was worse. Ren felt his history being stripped away—the memories of his childhood, the faces of his parents, the techniques he had spent a thousand years mastering—all of it formatted.
He looked down. His legs were gone. Dissolved into data. He was being wiped from existence.
I lost, Ren thought. I fought the World, and I won. But I fought the Heavens, and I am nothing.
The Light reached his neck. Ren felt the ten chains connected to his soul—the chains binding the Ghost Judges. The System was trying to cut them, to reset the board.
"No," Ren whispered.
He couldn't save his body. He couldn't save his cultivation. But he could save the Debt. Ren took the remnant of his Authority—the golden blood, the stolen crowns of the Yamas, the hatred, the defiance—and he compressed it.
He crushed it all down into a single, indestructible seed. A Virus. He buried that seed deep in the void of his own soul.
You can delete my body, Ren thought as his mouth dissolved. You can delete my memory. But you cannot delete the Ledger.
He looked the White Eye directly in the pupil.
"I... will... collect."
The Light flashed. The Grand Shaman vanished. The ruins were empty.
[TARGET DELETED.]
[STABILITY RESTORED.]
[TRANSITION: 2,000 YEARS LATER]
[LOCATION: SECTOR 9 — REN'S APARTMENT]
[TIME: 03:00 AM]
"GASHH!"
Ren Wu woke up screaming. He sat bolt upright, hands clawing at his chest, looking for a wound that wasn't there. He was drenched in cold sweat, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.
"Sir?"
The door burst open. Ye Lingshan rushed in, her sword half-drawn. Ren was shaking. His eyes were glowing with a frantic, terrified gold that faded into the modern neon of Sector 9.
"The Eye," Ren gasped. He touched his face. No blood. "Where is the Eye?"
"There is no Eye, sir," Lingshan said, lowering her sword. "You are in Sector 9. You have been asleep for fourteen hours."
Ren blinked. The memory of the Red Sky faded, replaced by the smell of ozone and cheap noodles. It wasn't a dream; it was a backup file.
[THE LEDGER OBSERVES]
[MEMORY FRAGMENT PROCESSED]
[SYNC RATE INCREASED: 12%]
[WARNING: MENTAL STABILITY UNSTABLE]
Ren started to laugh—a manic, wheezing sound that filled the small apartment.
"Sir? Do you need a medic?"
"No," Ren said, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "I don't need a medic. I need a suit."
He stood up. His Tier-F body felt heavy and weak, but his eyes were hard again. He walked to the window and looked out at the massive skyscrapers of the Alchemist Consortium.
It was the same System. The same White Eye. It had just changed its interface from "Divine Light" to "Corporate Regulations".
"They deleted me," Ren whispered to the glass. "They thought they wiped the drive."
He touched his chest, feeling the phantom weight of the Bone Brush.
"Lingshan."
"Yes, sir?"
"Wake up Dr. Zhu. And call the marketing team."
The fear was gone. The Ancient Shaman was dead. The CEO was awake.
"The flashback is over," Ren said, buttoning his shirt. "It is time to start the Product Launch. I want to bankrupt this city by noon."
[END OF MEMORY ARC]
[NEXT CHAPTER: THE PRODUCT LAUNCH]
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