Chapter 212

Chapter 212

"The wickedness of humanity on earth was immense, so God declared He would unleash a flood to destroy all living creatures under heaven and on earth, leaving none alive."

A blonde woman in a bright red volunteer vest held a picture book and read aloud. But little Eve, clutching a watercolor brush dripping with ink, merely bent her head over the paper, doodling and coloring with indifference: "Drown everyone? That’s brutal... If the headmistress catches you reading stories like that to kids again, you’ll be scolded."

The blonde woman laughed, playfully tapping Eve’s nose: "I wouldn’t read it to other children. As for you—are you really scared? No matter how brutal the story, it can’t be more terrifying than the things you draw—don’t mix red and green, didn’t your art teacher tell you red and green clash horribly?"

Eve: "...You don't have to use words like 'clash horribly' to describe a little girl’s artwork, do you?"

Was it really that bad?

She held up her drawing, scrutinizing it skeptically for a long moment. Yellow-green leaves looked malnourished, interspersed with blood-red plum blossoms, and a sparrow with mismatched leg lengths perched on a branch. If she were a bit older, she might have excused it with sophisticated terms like "postmodern" or "avant-garde," but at this age, where her sense of aesthetics was just beginning to bud, Eve could only grudgingly admit she seemed to lack artistic talent.

"Whatever, just take a look," she smoothed the drawing back onto the table with a swish, covering her ears as she stubbornly forged ahead. "The teacher won’t mind anyway. Our art class always turns into math class."

The blonde woman chuckled, then picked up a religious picture book—who knows how it got mixed into the donated collection—and began reading leisurely. The warm afternoon sun streamed through the orphanage’s perpetually smudged windows, casting a precious filter over the memory. After a while, she couldn’t resist teasing the little girl struggling with her drawing: "Since Eve thinks God’s ways are cruel, if you were God, what would you do?"

"Separate and educate, reward the good, punish the bad, just like the enlightened rulers in history books," Eve grinned before the woman could fully smile. "—That’s what you wanted me to say, right?"

"Hmm... why do you say that?"

"But the truth is, I can’t be God. Only children and childish adults believe in that stuff," Eve said, head still down as she doodled, sounding nonchalant. "As a human, why should I care so much? Once you’re dead, you’re dead. Who cares about raging floods?"

She couldn’t even guarantee she’d have books to read next year.

Winter was coming, and many children would be abandoned again. Eve was already among the older kids at the orphanage. In theory, healthy girls were always popular choices for adoption, especially someone as clever and quick-witted as Eve. Yet whenever kind prospective adoptive parents visited, after rounds of selection, they always chose the child standing next to Eve.

Maybe because the other was younger, or prettier, or perhaps the couple simply didn’t want a girl. So Eve slowly grew up in the orphanage until she was eleven, letting go of the naive dream of being adopted. The headmistress and the caretakers liked her, even willing to stretch their budget to let her continue her studies.

"Eve is such a smart and hardworking child," the caretakers often said, looking at her with poorly concealed pity. "How could her parents have abandoned her? If only some kind soul would sponsor her education."

Eve could only pretend not to hear and run off, acting oblivious to their practical considerations.

The blonde woman paused, then ruffled Eve’s fluffy hair: "Who taught you to say such precocious things?"

"I've read too many books, who knows?"

"Finished drawing? Go wash your hands, I’ll take you out for a meal and to the park nearby."

The orphanage meals were just basic sustenance. Hearing this, Eve’s eyes lit up, but she soon frowned: "You’re not a prospective adoptive parent. Will the headmistress allow it?"

"We’ll just sneak out, won’t we?" The woman smiled, raising a finger to her lips mischievously. "It’s not like it’s the first time. Your acting has always been good, right?"

What else did she say after that?

Eve couldn’t remember. She couldn’t even recall the disappointment she felt after hesitantly hinting at the woman to adopt her, only for the woman to miss the point entirely. It all felt like a lifetime ago.

And the blonde woman didn’t stay at the orphanage long—a semester? Or maybe a spring more? She was like a migratory bird, vanishing without a trace after a brief stay, leaving Eve with nothing but fleeting glimpses of another world. Perhaps she came back later, but by then Eve had already left for school in a neighboring town, sponsored by a benefactor.

If she had to say, during their last meeting, the woman seemed to have said something to her. What was it? Eve couldn’t remember.

Children’s memories are always fuzzy. If she hadn’t met the blonde deity again in this game instance, Eve thought she’d only spare a few seconds of memory for this barely-remembered benefactor after achieving success.

The water was dense, waves crashing down relentlessly. Eve knew how to swim, but every time she surfaced, turbulent waves pushed her back under, dragging her into the depths. Gradually, she lost strength.

How can humans fight nature?

In the endless darkness and swirling currents, only the Wall-Imprisoned Serpent clung desperately to her arm, weaving around floating debris, pulling her in a certain direction.

Three thousand weak waters, twelve peaks of Witch Mountain point the way to nothingness.

Eve’s consciousness was fading, yet she struggled to think about why Lilith had forced the butterfly crystal on her just before she was thrown into the water—surely the tournament committee wasn't manipulating NPCs to sneak in personal items? Though still wary of the strange object, the crystal emitted a peculiar light. Five-colored rays spilled from between her fingers, shining like a last hope even in the deep abyss. For that reason, Eve hadn’t let go.

...Damn, she was really about to drown.

Is the committee dead or what? Why haven’t they teleported her out? Her score should be enough to advance—do they really wait until near-death to eliminate someone?!

So hard to breathe.

Black spots blurred her vision, ringing filled her ears. Just as Eve was about to lose grip on the crystal, an arm suddenly slipped under her armpit, pulling her firmly into an embrace.

Another hand closed over Eve’s palm, placing the glowing crystal against her chest.

Eve felt someone gently lift her. Even the previously frantic Wall-Imprisoned Serpent calmed, coiling around them like an umbilical cord connecting the two. Then, a cool, damp breathing apparatus was pressed over her face.

Oxygen flooded her lungs again. Eve barely managed to squint, only making out the person’s seaweed-like white hair floating in the water and worried green eyes.

She murmured: "So strange..."

Who was looking at her with such sorrow, as if the world was about to end?

A client whose task wasn’t completed? A new boss unfamiliar with the job?

...Or someone from the orphanage she hadn’t seen in years since graduation?

Her faint question didn’t even pass the steel barrier of the breathing apparatus before being swallowed. Eve blinked, finally losing the last shred of consciousness she’d clung to.

-

After finding Eve, Lorca had little strength left. With the Serpent’s help, he barely surfaced and fired a signal flare.

Thankfully, the tournament committee wasn’t entirely heartless—the ark was stocked with supplies, essentially a reward-safehouse.

The flare shot into the gloomy sky. Though invisible underwater, he knew Tachibana Maki, unable to find her way, had already sent out her Spiritual State to scout. Sure enough, a golden-orange dot soon approached, quickly expanding into a full three-legged bird.

The bird cawed overhead for a while. Lorca knew Tachibana Maki was cursing from afar.

Though the Weapons Department Chief was usually sarcastic and a bit eccentric, she was reliable.

"Please, faster," Lorca said to the circling bird. He touched Eve’s cold cheek. "Eve’s temperature is very low. She needs to get back to warmth soon."

The three-legged bird could only caw a few more times before flying off. Lorca knew it was guiding Tachibana Maki and the ark.

Only the two of them remained. Eve was still unconscious. Lorca held her tightly. Though he was the one who’d rushed out to save her, holding her made him feel like he was the one clutching at a last lifeline.

He slowly lowered his head, burying his face in Eve’s damp, cold hair, experiencing the sensation of suffocation until colorful spots danced in his vision, then lifted to gasp before submerging again.

When the Serpent’s shared senses were forcibly blocked, he knew Eve had entered the mountain summit temple. Facing Lilith, Spiritual States often had limited functionality.

But he never expected Eve to encounter Lilith herself.

Now, pondering the relationship between the ruler of hell and the supreme being on the sacred mountain was pointless. All he knew was that the moment he could see through their shared senses again, he saw her thrown into the raging flood, and panic and fear surged through him.

Lorca wasn’t one for emotional swings. Dealing with the God of Death since childhood, tormented by constant headaches, he’d learned to discard all emotions unhelpful for solving problems, focusing only on what was useful. Eve once said his family loved him deeply. Perhaps—sometimes he saw worry on his mother’s face, guilt in his father’s eyes, dependency and concessions in his brother’s poorly concealed actions. But most times, he felt like he stood in a silent world, separated by an invisible glass, watching the healthy, vibrant lives in another world.

It was Eve who took his hand and led him out of that silent corner.

Or perhaps he never left. He was just a parasitic plant clinging to Eve, relying on her light and warmth to survive from beginning to end.

That’s why he couldn’t bear returning to that world again.