Mu Sichen kept his eyes squeezed shut, but he felt something feather-light brush against his forehead. A voice resonated directly within his mind.

“You have fulfilled our pact. Now, do what must be done.”

The voice was familiar and majestic, yet it held a new layer of coldness, stripped of the warmth it once had. It was as if all the human traits the octopus plushie had displayed—the sleepiness, the greed for snacks, the hoarding, the temper, the constant pouting—had vanished without a trace upon Qin Zhou’s true descent.

Just as a Pillar-grade Self-Sticker could purge Shen Jiyue’s corruption, Qin Zhou’s power could crush Mu Sichen’s tiny sticker as easily as snapping a dry twig. That was simply the nature of things.

Mu Sichen slowly opened his eyes. His left side was a blur, his field of vision narrowed; he could only see through his right eye. The sky was now completely veiled by Qin Zhou’s power. Neither the Big Eye, nor Shen Jiyue, nor even Qin Zhou’s own presence would further afflict the residents of Bright-Eye Town.

Qin Zhou truly was the Guardian of Humanity. Even in a clash of gods, He spared the strength to shield the people—even if those people were, to Him, merely “corrupted souls” outside His own territory.

Mu Sichen struggled to his feet and limped to where Yao Wangping had vanished. The totem on the ground was gone. In its place lay a half-section of a dull, lusterless mechanical tentacle. Mu Sichen picked it up; it held no power, no tattoo—every trace of Yao Wangping as a human being had been erased.

Yao Wangping had followed his convictions to the bitter end. He was a terrifying man, ruthless and singular in purpose, seeing nothing but Qin Zhou and the mission. He could sacrifice anyone, himself included. He never wavered for a moment from their first meeting to his death. Mu Sichen had never agreed with him, and Yao Wangping had never required his approval.

Yao Wangping had died with a smile, and Mu Sichen was merely the witness to the final stretch of his journey. Mu Sichen bowed deeply to the mechanical limb—a final mark of respect for a life lived with such absolute resolve.

The other half of the mechanical arm—the piece Mu Sichen had “siphoned”—still throbbed with power, as did the severed wing of the Apostle. Mu Sichen was utterly spent. He whispered, “Take me up.”

The wing attached itself to his back while the mechanical limb coiled around his waist. Together, they hoisted him into the air.

“Why do I always have to physically touch the totem?” Mu Sichen muttered to himself. “Can’t I just fly, or activate the power with a thought?”

The moment his palm touched the “Self” totem, a map of Bright-Eye Town flashed in his mind. The Sanitarium’s totem was clear, but the far north—where the Library stood—remained a void of darkness.

He knew what to do. Taking the 36,700 points of Hope Energy provided by the townspeople, he poured it all into the totem.

“Merge,” he whispered.

Invisible threads erupted from both the Factory and the Sanitarium, weaving together in the air until they blanketed every corner of the town except for the Library.

“Purify,” Mu Sichen commanded.

The two totems flared with light. Countless blood-red eyes manifested throughout the town, only to be turned to ash the moment the light touched them. Two “Pillars” now stood firm on opposite sides of the town, anchoring a stable domain.

“Exclude,” he added.

Using the power of the Pillars, he cast out any unpurifiable “Depraved” beings from the territory.

[Congratulations! Newbie Quest 3 Complete: Expelled the “Sky Eye” and occupied Bright-Eye Town. You have secured a safe Semi-Domain.]

Mu Sichen opened his system panel. Seeing the “Exit Game” button lit up again, he let out a long, shaky breath. “It’s done.”

He commanded the wing and tentacle to lower him to the ground. The moment he landed, he collapsed, unwilling to move a single muscle. He didn’t know how much cleanup was left, so he didn’t dare log out just yet.

Besides, he was hurting—physically and mentally. He clutched his missing left eye, wondering if it would ever return in the real world. Remembering the other players who had died, he doubted it. The system would likely invent a “logical” reason for his sudden blindness at home.

The sky remained a foggy grey. He had no idea how the three-way fight had ended or if Qin Zhou had won. And if He did win… would He just seize the semi-domain Mu Sichen had just built?

He knew Qin Zhou was an Outer God. He had been wary of Him from the start. But the octopus plushie had made him feel a flicker of kinship—a hope that this god might have a shred of humanity. Yao Wangping’s death had shattered that naivety. A God’s descent required a price. Yao Wangping was always meant to be the medium, the sacrifice. Qin Zhou had known that from the beginning. To Him, humans were still just ants.

[Congratulations! Three Newbie Quests complete. A surprise reward has been prepared and will be issued shortly.]

The system’s voice was crisp and clear now. The earlier interference hadn’t been a system glitch; it had been Mu Sichen’s own mind failing.

This ordeal had taught him there were two types of corruption. The first was the blunt force of a God’s power—look at them, and your soul either shatters into a puddle or snaps into madness. The second was the silent creep—seeing a totem by accident, subconsciously agreeing with a God’s logic, or being slowly eroded by their thoughts. That was how you became an Apostle.

Mu Sichen had tasted both. He’d survived the Big Eye’s direct gaze, and he’d survived Shen Jiyue’s subtle grooming, only because he happened to be standing inside a Pillar when the truth came out. Every quest felt like walking a tightrope over an abyss.

The most terrifying thought, however, was that both Qin Zhou and Shen Jiyue seemed aware of the system. They knew another world existed.

As Mu Sichen lay there, sinking into the dark, two voices called out.

“Captain Mu! You did it!”

“I got my cart back!”

Chi Lian and Cheng Xubo ran toward him and pulled him up.

“Why haven’t you logged out?” Mu Sichen asked, his eyes closed.

“We were waiting for you,” Cheng Xubo said, propping Mu Sichen up. “Just in case there were more tasks.”

“Last time I was too fast to hit the button and left you behind. I felt like a coward,” Chi Lian said, wiping Mu Sichen’s blood-stained face with a wet wipe. Her hand suddenly stopped. “Your eye…”

Mu Sichen gave a weak, lopsided smile, covering the socket with his hand. “Retribution for stealing someone else’s power.”

“Don’t say that! You didn’t do it on purpose!” Chi Lian’s voice cracked.

“Is there a way to fix it?” Cheng Xubo asked anxiously. “Doesn’t the system have some kind of divine medicine?”

Mu Sichen shook his head. He doubted the “surprise reward” was a new eyeball.

Chi Lian stared at the winged limb lying nearby, her eyes drifting to the numerous eyeballs embedded in the feathers. “Sichen… do you think I could ‘Cut and Paste’ one of these into you?”

“Let’s… let’s not,” Mu Sichen said, tossing the wing aside. Under the totem’s purification, the wing no longer had the power to kill with a look; it was just a tool for flight and vision. But still—gross.

“Actually, that’s an idea,” Cheng Xubo said seriously. “But those eyes are creepy. Why not use mine? I’m nearsighted and have an astigmatism, but it’s better than nothing.”

“Mu Sichen has a large eye socket,” Chi Lian analyzed clinically. “The aesthetics come from the socket, not the eyeball itself. It’s doable, even if the ‘part’ quality is low.”

Mu Sichen: “…Are you two insane?”

“We’re serious,” Cheng Xubo insisted. “You’ve saved us so many times, and you faced the danger alone while we did nothing. Letting us help fix your eye is the least you can do. Besides, if I give you mine, Chi Lian can give me one of the wing eyes. Maybe it’ll cure my nearsightedness!”

“If it works, I’ll swap the other one for you, too,” Chi Lian added.

“Good point. Having two different eyes would be disorienting,” Cheng Xubo agreed.

Their casual discussion of body-horror surgery was appalling, yet it somehow dragged Mu Sichen back from his exhaustion. He knew they were serious. They would give him their own eyes in a heartbeat.

“Fine. We can try,” Mu Sichen sighed. He was already living with an Outer God plushie; a mismatched eye was the least of his worries.

“Try mine?” Cheng Xubo asked, pointing to himself.

“The wing eye!” Mu Sichen snapped. “I have perfect vision in my right eye; I don’t want to be half-blind on purpose!”

Chi Lian pulled a pair of scissors from her kit, “snipped” an eye from the wing, and “pasted” it into Mu Sichen’s socket.

“Don’t worry, I leveled up after the quest. I have 3,000 energy now, so I shouldn’t need yours—wait.” Chi Lian paused. “The system says ‘Life-Link Pasting’ is a Pillar-grade skill. I’m Level 9, and the requirement is Level 10. It costs 2,000 points. Captain… do you have enough? I need to borrow some.”

Mu Sichen, now Level 15 with 10,000 energy, nodded tiredly. “Take it.”

With a flash of energy, the eye was set. Mu Sichen blinked. His vision on the left side returned—and it was sharper than his original eye.

“Oops,” Chi Lian whispered. “I picked the wrong one. This pupil is a deep navy blue. It’s hard to tell alone, but next to your other eye, it looks a bit different. Want to swap it?”

“No.” Mu Sichen checked his reflection on his phone. “You can’t tell unless you’re staring. It’s fine.”

“Actually, it looks pretty cool,” Chi Lian shrugged. “Gives you a bit of a mysterious, handsome vibe.”

The three sat together, discussing the future of the town. Chi Lian and Cheng Xubo were already planning a census, a resource-distribution system based on “work points,” and ways to teach the townspeople to live without a God’s influence. They were the administrative brains; Mu Sichen was happy to leave it to them.

Suddenly, a crack appeared in the shrouded sky. A shimmering object fell through the rift and landed neatly in Mu Sichen’s palm. It was a pair of elegant, gold-rimmed glasses.

[Congratulations! You have received a special reward: The “Legacy of the Sky Eye.” Surprised?]

Mu Sichen stared at the glasses. If it was a “Legacy,” it meant the Big Eye was gone. One God down.

He looked up. The sky was filled with stars, looking perfectly normal except for the absence of the moon. Qin Zhou and Shen Jiyue were gone.

Mu Sichen put on the glasses. Suddenly, his vision shifted like a VR headset. He saw flashes of the battle: a humanoid shadow possessing overwhelming power had crushed both the Moon and the Eye. But the Moon had managed to bite off half of the Eye’s power before fleeing into the Library.

Shielded by the third Pillar, the Moon was safe for now. The humanoid shadow had used its tentacles to wrap up the remaining half of the Eye and vanished into the void, leaving only these glasses behind.