Yang Zicang cast just one glance, and the information contained within the final reward’s light appeared in his mind.
[Demon Eye Record]
“Let me help you.” Su’e said.
“It’s okay, I can move on my own now.”
Yang Zicang rejected the help from those around him. He first raised his hand, and the giant carpet turned into a silk scarf flying into his palm; then the Century Weapon spear that had fallen on the ground was also stored into the Graviton Arc.
Step by step, he walked toward the dark hole in the wall.
As Yang Zicang approached it, this floating light containing the final reward began to flicker faster.
A black vinyl record glided across his sight.
[Demon Eye Record: Soundwave King’s Mind Spectrum]
Immediately behind it, a mass of silver radiance emerged in front of Yang Zicang, wrapping a booklet that could only be held in a single hand.
[An Ordinary Person’s Memoir]
There were indeed two items inside.
But…
[I, the Great Quadrilateral… can only choose one out of two.]
Yang Zicang let out a soft sigh.
The frequency spectrum of the Soundwave King was undoubtedly a good thing. And the extra reward that the Assessment Committee Member had long prepared for him was also here.
Although this additional reward given by the Senator was originally meant to be handed out in ordinary year-end competition prizes.
By some twist of fate, this trial was boosted to Demon Elite level, causing this extra reward, which would have merely been part of a standard year-end competition, to now count as the final reward of the “Demon Elite level.”
Should I take this item? Yang Zicang hesitated in his mind.
A crowd of people came over, and although none of them held the qualification, both items were rewards for the ultimate victor, yet they could still read the attached information on the two prizes.
“Looks like it’s only a choice between the two.”
“Strange, why even have to choose?”
“What does that memoir mean, anyway?”
“Obviously, the Soundwave King’s frequency spectrum is more valuable; maybe it could create something like a soundwave army?”
None of the crowd, who didn’t even know about the existence of the Lost Illusion Company, could understand what the “Lost Frequency Thoughtband” information was, but it didn’t stop them from speculating.
Yang Zicang’s face, which had been grazed by Su’e, lifted as he gazed at the descriptions of these two prizes.
Everyone dressed in various outfits looked towards the hesitant young man ahead. Liang Xi was about to speak when Luo Bin had already covered his mouth.
Miss Yeji drove up nearby with a girl around her age, holding food in their hands.
At the “Old 23rd City” side, Cheng Yunze, having somewhat recovered, stepped forward. “Zi Zang, what’s your choice?”
“I…” Yang Zicang turned his head. “What do you think?”
Cheng Yunze showed a surprised expression. After pausing briefly, the man recognized as the strongest in his city finally said:
“I may sound like I’m setting you up when I say this, but… compared to things that look valuable at first glance, I’m more curious about this so-called ‘ordinary person’s memoir’ beside it. Of course, that’s just my feeling—the final decision is yours.”
“Mm.”
Yang Zicang’s chest rose and fell slowly. He took a deep breath, then exhaled, reaching his hand toward the floating light mass at the broken edge of the wall before him. Just as his fingers were about to touch, he paused briefly, then looked up at the void and said:
“Boppoli, I should be leaving soon. I hope to see you again in the future when you’ve become an even better designer of inferno palaces. Also, take care of my friends for me.”
With that, he reached forward, quickly and crisply grasping the booklet in his hand.
[I’ve received 1,000,000N as Virtual Zero Sequence reward.]
With a crack, that vinyl record shattered, falling piece by piece to the ground, while the onlookers heaved a sigh of regret.
[I have obtained “A Memoir of an Ordinary Person”.]
“An ordinary person’s memoir.”
With slight confusion, Yang Zicang slowly opened the title page of this booklet.
[A Memoir of an Ordinary Person.]
[Yang Zicang, 2014—2092.]
Yang Zicang stood frozen as if struck by lightning.
A few seconds later, his pupils contracted violently, and he slowly shifted his gaze downward with a tremor.
—My name is Yang Zicang, and at the end of July 2014, I was born…
As these lines of text came into view, the subsequent paragraphs quickly merged into this narrative, bringing forth short, instantly memorable lines:
[July 28, 2014, 13:41. I was born.]
[July 28, 2014, 13:50. Twenty-six people, including Aunt Zhang Xiaoyi and Uncle Li Maocai, learned of my existence.]
[July 28, 2014, 13:52. I received my first worldly wealth: a red envelope of 3,400 yuan. It became part of my stroller and my mother’s gold necklace.]
[August 28, 2014. I celebrated my full-moon banquet…]
An overwhelming stream of information began flowing like a small current through the booklet in his hand, transforming into light traces that traveled up his arm and into the model.
“What is this…?”
[September 1, 2017. I entered kindergarten, beginning my learning journey.]
Is this… my life?
[September 1, 2029. I entered high school, starting three years of a junior high student’s life.]
[June 30, 2036, I graduated from the Civil Engineering department of West Sky University and acquired a bachelor’s degree.]
Is this where it ends?
Suddenly, Yang Zicang’s scalp tingling, he continued reading…
[August 4, 2036, I obtained my first job, becoming a civil engineer.]
“A job? I came to this world, and I’m still a few months away from graduating!”
Frantically, he quickly flipped through the pages!
[July 2, 2037, I bought a car.]
“Where did this come from!”
[February 13, 2038, my first love broke up with me, and I experienced the first heartbreak of my life.]
“Impossible!”
[2040, I got married for the first time and had my first child, a lovely daughter.]
Yang Zicang, wide-eyed, covered his head with his left palm—this was something he had never experienced before!
[2048, my father was hospitalized due to illness. I quit my job and returned to my hometown, starting my first business, entering the retail industry.]
“How can this be!”
[March 2050, my younger brother died from illness, only twenty-six years old. I was deeply grieved.]
“Ah!”
[June 2050, the shop went bankrupt, and my first wife proposed a divorce.]
“Ahh!!”
The handbook in Yang Zicang’s hand seemed to be biting him, making him eager to throw it away.
But his yearning for his family and the possible fate of his loved ones afterwards also made him painfully hold on to this book, as information continuously imprinted into his mind…
[February 2052, I married for the second time. My wife was a local from the town near the hydropower project, Zhong Qilian.]
[May 2053: I established a small construction company; by the end of the year, I had a second child—a lively son.]
[July 2054: My long-ailing father passed away.]
Yang Zicang’s heart ached as he took in this information.
Though it continued to surge forth, he forced himself not to analyze it, letting the stream of data sink deep into his memory.
But key milestones still erupted like explosions in his mind.
[2055: My construction company gradually got on track, taking on multiple local infrastructure projects, and life began to stabilize.]
[2059: I sent my daughter to Haibei University, where she chose a medical major.]
The others behind watched in disbelief at Yang Zicang’s condition.
[2073: I retired, handing the company over to my son, and began traveling the world with my now silver-haired wife.]
[May 8, 2074: My first grandchild arrived, making the family even livelier.]
“I… I…”
[December 17, 2092, 13:33: I lay in the bed of my home. My life had but one minute left. My past unfolded before me.]
[December 17, 2092, 13:34:42: My life ended.]
[The Memoir of an Ordinary Man: Yang Zicang. The End.]
The shadowy figure before the broken wall stumbled back a few steps, his steps unsteady.
After a full few minutes, Yang Zicang turned his head and looked at the crowd around him, gazing at him with concern.
“Brother, are you… feeling better?” Liang Xi in the crowd asked.
“I…”
“Old Yang?” the stout, pudgy figure asked with concern.
“Brother Zicang?” The leather-clad girl carrying a food box looked at him with great concern.
Yang Zicang looked down at the tattered booklet in his hand, now completely blank.
“Why does something like this exist?”
All the words had transformed into images in his mind, detailed to the point where he could review everything he had done, minute by minute and second by second.
“Am I… alive or dead?”
“What the hell is this place!”
Amid everyone’s astonishment, a deep, majestic voice sounded.
{Demon Hero Hall match concluded. Winner: Original City No. 41.}
{All those who have reached 10,000 extra time points will proceed to the “Second Fate Track” upon leaving this hall.}
{Time remaining for this Demon Hero-level Arena: 1 hour and 50 minutes.}
{Rewards are being distributed.}
……
A day later, after taking a bubble bath rubbed down by Zhou Diao, Little Diudiu put on a cute set of pajamas from Hub Town and immediately ran into Zhao Yun’s room.
“Big brother.”
The girl, whose fangs had now retracted, stared at Zhao Yun on the wooden bed.
“You…” Zhao Yun, who had just collapsed onto the bed, had a bit of a headache. This little one was just like that train driven by Ma Chao back then—both were characters who only came alive at night.
Diudiu climbed onto the bed, propped her hands on her hips, and turned her head left and right, looking around.
“What are you looking for?”
“Nothing.”
Feeling a bit bored, Diudiu sat down, leaning against the wall.
“Is Brother Yang Zicang a friend of Brother Morrie?”
“Yes.” Lying down, Zhao Yun put his head back on the pillow and spoke with half-closed eyes.
Diudiu curiously stepped onto the cotton-padded mattress behind him with her little feet, sat down and continued:
“Why does Brother Yang Zicang also need that Boboli to help take care of the girls?”
“…” Zhao Yun thought that everyone was spreading the rumor that Morrie had indeed left a message in Hub Town, asking Boboli to help take care of his nine ‘sisters’.
“Who is Boboli? Is he good at taking care of girls?”
Zhao Yun turned his head to look at Diudiu’s twinkling eyes.
He suddenly felt a little sympathy for the director of Puyang Group, the only one who never showed up at the Demon Hall.
“Brother Zhao Yun, are you going to sleep now?”
“Yes.” Zhao Yun closed his eyes.
“Shouldn’t you tell me a story before you go to sleep?”
“……”
Zhao Yun opened his eyes—what kind of reasoning was that?
Diudiu stared at his profile with wide eyes.
“Is it absolutely necessary?”
“My sister always does.”
After scraping together the only one or two little stories he had heard that were suitable for telling to children,
“Mmm…”
Zhao Yun hesitated for a moment, then murmured softly, “Once upon a time, there was an old man named Sai Weng…”
Soul Polarity Dossier II Demon Gears Teeth .
魂孪档案 II 魔齿磨轮
The End.
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