Huang Wei's voice deepened as he uttered the last part, the weight of his words pressing down on Ren Ye. The seriousness of the situation was unmistakable.
"For any region, any people, a scarce resource is always something to fight for." Huang Wei's tone was unwavering, the conviction in his words sharp. A fan of red, his outlook was relentlessly optimistic, yet there was a certain steel behind it. "So, I helped him select three of our most elite players to enter this Star Scar Gate together."
Ren Ye's eyes narrowed, the pragmatist in him taking charge. "And have these three been compensated?"
Huang Wei nodded, his face solemn. "Of course. But..." His pause was deliberate, laden with something unspoken.
"But what?" Ren Ye pressed, sensing something was off.
"After they entered the Star Gate, they lost all contact," Huang Wei said, his voice low, his gaze distant as he stared off into the room. "No news for over 20 days...!"
A chill ran through Ren Ye, the unsettling weight of those words sinking into him.
Huang Wei stopped and turned to face Ren Ye fully, his expression darkening, his eyes carrying a burden of grief. "It wasn't until three days ago that one player returned. But when he did... he brought something with him. A prop. A token to open the final Star Gate."
Ren Ye's brows furrowed, anxiety creeping up his spine. "The streak isn't over, then? What happened next? What about the others?"
Huang Wei's voice dropped to a whisper, his sorrow evident in the way his shoulders slumped. "The one who returned... didn't speak. He was... a corpse. Festered all over, his eyes... blank. He collapsed right before the Star Gate. We treated him immediately, but the doctor confirmed... he had died three days prior."
"What?!" Ren Ye shot to his feet, his disbelief palpable. "You mean... a corpse that's been dead for three days, and it returns with a prop?"
Huang Wei's solemn nod confirmed it. "Yes. We believe the other three died too. They died in the Star Gate. That's why we've found you."
"Found me?" Ren Ye's voice faltered, confusion and dread creeping in. "Why? After a continuous quest that left four dead, why would you turn to me? Do you think I have a better sewing machine?"
Huang Wei paused, his sadness momentarily set aside, only to be replaced with a look of perplexity.
Ren Ye bristled under the stare. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
Huang Wei gave a deep sigh, his expression turning almost sympathetic. "Prepare yourself, Ren Ye. What you're about to see... it may be too strange."
A cold shiver ran down Ren Ye's spine at his words, the sense of unease suddenly growing sharp.
"Cipher, 7933-2." Huang Wei's command was clear, his eyes focused, his voice carrying authority.
"Check successful~"
A sudden hum of electronic machinery filled the room, the soft buzz almost imperceptible at first.
Then, with a slow, mechanical whir, a dark lattice in the middle of the bookshelf began to rise. The concealed safe within it slowly revealed itself, its interior gradually opening.
Ren Ye frowned, his gaze fixed on the object within the safe. There, in the center, lay a brush stand, and resting on the shelf was a brush—its shape simple, yet its material rare and intriguing.
"This brush is the last prop the brother brought out. Walk over and pick it up," Huang Wei commanded, his posture unchanging as he stood with his hands behind his back.
Ren Ye paused, considering the situation, then walked over to the bookshelf. His fingers brushed lightly against the cold surface of the brush, lifting it with slow deliberation.
It was colder than he expected. The texture was smooth, the barrel of the pen slightly reflective—nothing ordinary about it. The weight of the object in his hand felt like something ancient, perhaps a relic of some forgotten era.
"There are words on the barrel," Huang Wei said, his voice breaking the silence as he took a few steps back. He was already standing by the door, flicking off the light with a quiet click. "Can you see them?"
Ren Ye squinted, carefully inspecting the pen. Indeed, two lines of small golden characters glowed faintly, like embers in the dark.
"I can see it."
"Good. Now, stand at your desk. Copy these two lines onto an open space and read them aloud."
Ren Ye tilted his head slightly. "Just like that? No background music or dramatic flair? It's a bit... awkward, you know?" His voice was light, attempting to ease the tension in his chest. "This feels embarrassing..."
Huang Wei remained silent, his gaze fixed, offering no reaction.
Ren Ye exhaled deeply, shaking his head to dispel his nerves. He moved to the center of the office, the weight of the moment heavy on him. He raised his arm and gripped the brush, though his hand trembled slightly.
He had no idea what would happen next. All he knew was that the moment was now inevitable.
His arm began to move, the pen cutting through the air slowly, deliberately.
"Raise the pen and wave a thousand years, I will paint mountains and rivers from the stage!"
As soon as the words left his lips, the pen halted mid-air.
"Wave~!"
A sudden surge of air disturbed the room, and a spark of starlight appeared—a flash, like the flick of a paintbrush across a canvas. In an instant, the light expanded, spreading across the room like a splash of white ink on paper.
And then, it appeared. A twisted, irregular shape—a "black hole." It hovered in the air, oval-shaped and tall enough for a man to step through, its edges glowing with a pulsating, colorful starlight that dazzled the eyes.
Ren Ye froze, his mind reeling. His gaze was locked on the black hole, his scalp prickling with unease. He clenched the brush tighter, rooted to the spot, too afraid to make a move.
He stared into the swirling darkness, feeling as though he was peering into an abyss. A chill ran down his spine, and a thought lingered at the edge of his consciousness: What would he find if he stepped through? What lay on the other side?
Huang Wei's voice was a quiet reminder, calm but filled with weight. "This is the Gate of Star Scars. One step inside, and everything changes."
Ren Ye's breath caught, and he turned to look at Huang Wei, who stood just inside the doorway. He had been preparing to ask a question when—
A faint, eerie voice echoed from within the abyss, carried by an unseen wind.
"The Year of the Dead!"
"Renxu Month!"
"Wushen Day!"
"When it comes to non-use!"
"Heaven forgiveness is fate—Ren Ye!"
"Please, get started!!"
The words—strange and cryptic—struck Ren Ye like a bolt from the blue. His mind raced, trying to place them. They felt familiar, but in a way he couldn't quite grasp. He blinked, his body stiffening as the realization hit him.
Was that... his date of birth? His full name? Who was calling him?
The ethereal voice rang out again, and Ren Ye felt a shiver run through him, his whole body freezing as though struck by an electric jolt.
Huang Wei's voice cut through the tension. "No one knows why it called you. But that's why we needed you here."