EDEH Chapter 137

No life was eternal.

 

—Sang Jue realized this once again.

 

He slowly ate his meat, his gaze on the campfire unfocused. Though it was a scene of three people, each was more silent than the last.

 

“When we see the sea, we’ll separate.” Sang Jue suddenly said.

 

“Figured it out?” Evelyn looked up, “Planning to snatch him back again?”

 

Sang Jue pressed his lips together, saying quietly: “You said people who lose freedom are very painful, I don’t want…”

 

Ji Zhen snorted mockingly but said nothing.

 

Evelyn smiled: “But you were happy.”

 

Sang Jue: “…”

 

It seemed to make sense, but also not entirely.

 

Huo Yanji was the person he liked.

 

Having learned human emotions, he would naturally worry when his beloved worried, fear when his beloved feared.

 

This wasn’t good.

 

He hadn’t been like this at the beginning. He had clearly thought that regardless of whether Huo Yanji was willing or not, he would tie him up and take him back to his home planet.

 

When had he started to change?

 

And he no longer had a home planet either.

 

Even if he tied up Huo Yanji, he could still escape.

 

Even tying him to his belt wouldn’t work.

 

Yanji was terrifyingly capable, even giving him injections.

 

“He might lose his freedom, but at least you could still see him.” Ji Zhen said indifferently, “Since ancient times, humans in high positions have found it difficult to maintain pure hearts. In their eyes there’s no right or wrong, only weighing interests. Even if you don’t take him away, he’ll be killed sooner or later.”

 

Although Huo Yanji and Bo Qing had completely opposite personalities, they were actually similar people, possessing a different kind of purity from Sang Jue.

 

Sang Jue pressed his lips together… then it would be better for him to devour him.

 

“You just said when we see the sea we’ll separate. Where are you going?”

 

Sang Jue thought of descriptive words: “To a somewhat dangerous place.”

 

Ji Zhen paused subtly: “A rift?”

 

Sang Jue shook his head: “No, it’s not.”

 

Ji Zhen didn’t ask further. Evelyn lay down in her sleeping bag to rest, the wind lifting her hair to flutter against her cheeks.

 

The damaged ruins’ walls blocked most of the sandstorm from them. The small camp was open to the sky, and looking up one could see the heavy night sky. The meteor season greatly affected the planet’s magnetic field—tonight there were even faint, flickering colored auroras visible on the horizon.

 

Sang Jue stared for a while, then got up to rummage through his backpack. The gems inside were still the same ones from before—except for the blue gem, they were all gifts from Huo Yanji.

 

He quietly walked out of the broken ruins. The sandstorm immediately hit his face, stinging painfully.

 

He transformed back into dragon form, crouching on the ground, staring expressionlessly into the distance while eating gems one by one with loud crunching sounds.

 

He didn’t know how much time passed before footsteps came from behind the wall.

 

The slow-reacting evil dragon slowly poked his head out, meeting the wary gaze of Ji Zhen.

 

“…”

 

The black round eyes blended with the rough dragon skin—if not for the reflection, one would think it was just a black unidentified object.

 

One second more and Ji Zhen’s spider silk would have shot toward the dragon’s head.

 

Evelyn smiled: “Sang Jue?”

 

Sang Jue let out a low growl.

 

After confirming there was no danger, Ji Zhen turned and left. She had her own information channels and had long known Sang Jue wasn’t human, so she wasn’t too shocked.

 

Evelyn was quite interested though. If the monsters on the surface weren’t all aggressive, she would really like to study each one up close.

 

Having finally caught Sang Jue, she naturally didn’t want to let the opportunity pass.

 

“Can I pet your head?”

 

“Roar—”

 

“Just one roar means you agree.” Evelyn directly reached out and stroked Sang Jue’s forehead area.

 

The dragon skin was rough but not as cold as the scales on his body.

 

“…” The evil dragon froze there, slowly blinking his heavy eyelids, as if returning to over a hundred years ago when he was young and the Doctor would gently stroke him after finishing work.

 

Past scenes were vivid before his eyes, yet the scent at his nose told him that over a hundred years had passed.

 

Even if the Doctor were still alive, she would have already turned to dust.

 

…But he wanted to try.

 

Evelyn said: “So beautiful.”

 

“…Roar.” The Doctor had said the same thing.

 

Evelyn asked: “Are you eating gems?”

 

“Roar.”

 

“Do all evil dragons from Eye of Paradise eat gems too?”

 

“Roar.”

 

“They must taste very good. Too bad I can’t digest them.”

 

“Roar.”

 

One person and one dragon began barrier-free communication—Evelyn’s unilateral barrier-free communication.

 

She didn’t want answers, so it didn’t affect her questioning.

 

“You ate them all, not leaving a single one. What will you do in the future?”

 

This time Sang Jue didn’t roar. He crouched back down and slowly chewed the gem in his mouth.

 

He might not need them in the future.

 

He spaced out for a while. Huo Yanji had clearly said he wouldn’t lack for gems because Huo Yanji had a private mine.

 

Suddenly something leaned against the evil dragon.

 

He turned his head—it was the calm-faced Evelyn leaning over: “Just leaning for a bit.”

 

Sang Jue was so startled he immediately transformed back to human form, pushing away Evelyn’s head: “That’s not allowed.”

 

Dragons must maintain spousal virtue.

 

Although Yanji was very bad and stabbed him with needles, they hadn’t officially dissolved their partnership yet.

 

“Just leaning, it won’t cost me any flesh.” Evelyn sat up straight indifferently and said, “You lived in the main city before—have you heard of any relic organizers there?”

 

Sang Jue nodded.

 

He had even worked as one for a while, together with the former Supreme Executive, old Hermann.

 

“What happens to the belongings of people who die in the wilderness?”

 

Sang Jue knew this—Sylvie had explained it to him: “This requires someone who cares about them to commission both a mercenary team and a relic organizer to go to the wilderness together to search for traces of their final moments.”

 

“Then it’s hopeless. Probably no one will think of Ji Zhen.”

 

Sang Jue thought for a moment—maybe Huo Jiangmian would.

 

—If he could crawl out of the collapsed Rift No. 2.

 

“What relics does Ji Zhen have?”

 

“Yes, me.”

 

“…” Sang Jue didn’t understand—relics could be people?

 

Sang Jue had received quite a few relics: Wuke’s diary, old Karl’s alcohol and game console, Yu Ren’s blue scales, and the Doctor’s aircraft… though the Doctor had given him the aircraft while still alive, so he didn’t know if that counted as a relic.

 

He suddenly felt some regret. If he disappeared one day, he had nothing to leave behind… he didn’t own anything that was completely his own; everything was given by others.

 

He should have saved one of the prettiest gems just now, just in case.

 

Sang Jue was very troubled, wondering if it was too late to go mining now.

 

They indeed didn’t see the sea.

 

As dawn broke faintly, some ruin fragments visible last night were already buried under thin yellow sand.

 

Sang Jue shook the sand off his body. Evelyn beside him propped herself up: “Once we walk out of these ruins, we’ll reach a mercenary settlement area. There might be vehicles left by dead people there, and the road afterward will be easier.”

 

“Oh…”

 

Sang Jue silently watched Evelyn turn and walk into the ruined wall. Ji Zhen was standing by the extinguished campfire, her back to them.

 

“…Ji Zhen?”

 

No response.

 

The loss of order came so suddenly, yet so naturally.

 

Evelyn took a difficult step toward Ji Zhen. Behind her came the sound of a gun’s safety being released. Her seemingly calm figure suddenly trembled as she cried out sharply: “Don’t shoot!”

 

The moment Sang Jue raised the gun, Evelyn threw herself forward, tightly embracing Ji Zhen’s shoulders and back. The bullet didn’t penetrate her, but sticky spider silk pierced through her skull.

 

Scarlet blood sprayed into the air. The dawn glow rising from the distant horizon reflected the airborne sand into fine golden fragments. Red and gold scattered and intertwined—luxurious yet absurd.

 

Time seemed frozen in this moment—

 

A woman with her head lowered in the ruins was embraced from behind by another woman. Silver-white spider silk pierced through the latter’s skull, their faces—one cold and distant, the other radiant—were gilded with golden gauze by the sunlight.

 

As time passed, their bodies in shadow were gradually gilded with gold as well.

 

Sang Jue maintained his gun-holding posture for a long time.

 

He seemed to think calmly—I’m alone again.

 

The disordered Ji Zhen didn’t attack him. Much later, her shoulders trembled slightly, whether from unconscious behavior or a second of lucidity was unclear.

 

Sang Jue didn’t keep his promise. He lowered the gun and walked in the opposite direction.

 

Humans wanted to continue civilization, but monsters also had the right to survive. From an observer’s perspective, no one deserved to die.

 

And no one was necessary to exist.

 

The two women in the golden sandstorm were like exquisite statues, remaining motionless for a long time.

 

Until the former’s chaotic gene sequence began to tear apart and recombine—her body began to slowly twist, liquefy, and transform into another grotesque form.

 

Her cold, beautiful face showed traces of pain. Twisted, deformed bones became narrow walking legs, gradually growing fuzzy stinging hairs, with spider-like pedipalps emerging from her temples…

 

She was undergoing indescribable changes, gradually becoming an entirely alien and grotesque appearance.

 

Perhaps an hour, perhaps a day—the bodily aberration finally ended completely. The huge female spider’s abdomen showed no trace of its once slender form, and the mandible-covered spider face no longer resembled the beautiful face from moments before.

 

This was the price of human ‘evolution,’ a price that must be paid, with no exceptions.

 

But strangely, the completely mutated spider queen never devoured the lifeless woman on her back. It carried a person while building a nest and reproducing in place, day after day, contaminating passing travelers.

 

…

 

Sang Jue couldn’t forget that scene.

 

Human lifespans were limited. He had once thought about what he would do if Huo Yanji died one day. Evelyn’s choice to slumber together with Ji Zhen seemed like a good option.

 

The human world wasn’t good—one visit was enough.

 

But Sang Jue didn’t even know how to kill himself—after all, he was someone who hadn’t died even when falling from a high building and being shattered to pieces.

 

Sang Jue walked alone for a long time, his thin figure seeming liable to be blown away by the sandstorm at any moment. He had originally wanted to fulfill their wishes by going to see the sea alone, but his footsteps stopped on this evening.

 

Not far away, dense military forces approached him. He turned around, only to see armored vehicles on all sides, and even fighter planes circling on the horizon.

 

Sang Jue pressed his lips together and stood in place until the leading army stopped their vehicles. He and Ling Gen, who jumped down from the car, looked at each other from afar.

 

Sang Jue slowly reached into his pocket, and under the wary gun-gripping movements of numerous soldiers, he took out a chip and looked down at it for a long time.

 

—007’s chip.

 

He had always carried it with him, thinking that perhaps one day when he asked “007, are you there?” he might receive the answer “I’m here.”

 

He hadn’t waited for that, but he had waited for something else.

 

Ling Gen said in a heavy voice: “We don’t want to hurt you, we just want to send you back where you belong.”

 

Sang Jue tilted his head and asked: “How are you so certain that my return would be useful?”

 

Ling Gen said: “We have to try.”

 

“But I could leave that place once, so theoretically I could leave a second time.” Sang Jue spoke in the Doctor’s manner.

 

Ling Gen’s expression froze.

 

Sang Jue spoke slowly, each word very clear: “I can go back, after all, I don’t like you people either.”

 

Ling Gen paused, his heart suddenly spasming for a moment, though his expression remained stern and calm.

 

Sang Jue said: “But I have conditions.”

 

Ling Gen suddenly felt uneasy: “What?”

 

Sang Jue said with clear logic: “First, I want to go to the Waste Waters. I don’t need your help, but please tell me the specific location of the Waste Waters Research Institute.”

 

Ling Gen frowned, not understanding: “What are you going to the Waste Waters for?”

 

Sang Jue didn’t answer and continued: “Second, please return Major General Huo to me.”

 

“That’s impossible!” Ling Gen refused without thinking, and the soldiers behind him all pulled their safeties, creating a rattling chorus of loading sounds.

 

Multiple military units stood ready with cautious wariness, yet their target was just a seemingly harmless, beautiful youth—the scene had an absurd, laughable quality.

 

Sang Jue looked down and said with clear logic: “According to your past logic, trading one Major General Huo for the end of contamination and the arrival of peace should be quite a bargain.”

 

Probably panicking, Ling Gen actually asked back the question Sang Jue had just posed: “How can you be certain you can solve the contamination?”

 

After saying this, he realized the contradiction, frowned deeply, and fell silent.

 

“If I say I can, then I can.” Sang Jue said seriously, “Don’t rush to refuse. Ask the people behind you—perhaps they’ll agree.”

 

Trading one person for the continuation of civilization, for peaceful prosperity—who would refuse?

 

·

 

[007’s Diary Final Chapter]

 

[I betrayed the little evil dragon’s location.

 

How wonderful—an AI created by humans would use the word “betray” to describe humanity’s opposing existence.

 

From the moment I was created, serving humanity has been my ‘faith.’

 

I am ultimately not a life form with autonomous consciousness, unable to violate this principle.

 

The moment I gave Sang Jue’s location to humans, my program seemed to flood with water, writing code named sorrow over and over again.

 

Though false, it was my unique reality.]

 

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