"Have some tea." Sique snapped his fingers, and a magpie teapot appeared in the air, pouring red tea from its beak into the purple-gold porcelain cup in front of Su Ming'an: "If it hurts a lot, drinking tea can ease the pain."

"Why did you make the teapot like this..." Su Ming'an held his chest, his whole body still felt like it was being torn apart in pain.

"Is that a question?" Sique blinked.

"No, it's not."

"This tea I call 'Final Dream', it has the effect of suppressing pain. If you're still in pain, a sip might make you feel better."

The fragrance of the tea wafted, and Su Ming'an looked at the leisurely Sique and asked, "That plot corrector, why does he have the face of Lv Shu?"

"Don't want to play sea turtle soup with me?"

"Never wanted to, I hope to be more practical, quick questions and answers. I think you wouldn't want Luowasha to fall either."

Sique chuckled, his voice lowered a bit: "…I really don't care."

He put down the porcelain cup, clasped his hands and rested them under his chin:

"That one is... the 2021 version of Lv Shu. Or, you might as well call him [Supervisor]."

"What?" Although Su Ming'an had already guessed that person was closely linked with Lv Shu, was the 2021 version of Lv Shu really that strong?

"Don't rush, carefully recall how you met Lv Shu?" Sique, like a hypnotist in a dream, guided the guest's thoughts.

Su Ming'an remembered, the first time he saw Lv Shu in the World Game was on the second floor of the Central Hospital, Lv Shu backstabbed him upon meeting… because Lv Shu's identity was [Supervisor], and the task required killing Su Ming'an. But later, influenced by Su Ming'an's ideals, Lv Shu chose to give up the assassination, gave Su Ming'an a pet egg, and they became friends.

This was the beginning of everything.

However, the butterfly effect caused by Su Ming'an made it so that the 2021 version of Su Ming'an and Lv Shu did not know each other, nor was there any talk of becoming allies. So, the 2021 version of Lv Shu did not give up his identity as a Supervisor.

"The 2021 version of Lv Shu became the true [Supervisor], which is the plot corrector of the Disciple Game, shedding the player identity and was forcibly elevated in strength." Sique spread his hands: "Now, do you understand the significance of [Supervisor]?"

"So, [Supervisor] is also known as plot corrector, responsible for correcting those who shouldn't exist in the game..." Su Ming'an realized.

At this moment, a lightning-like inspiration flashed through his mind, and a wave of shock arose.

—At the beginning of the World Game, after Lv Shu obtained the [Supervisor] identity, the first task was to assassinate Su Ming'an.

Does this mean, in the eyes of the World Game… at that time, Su Ming'an, like the people of Luowasha now, was... [a person who shouldn't exist in the plot]??

Could it be right from the start...

Sique took a sip of tea, his eyes slightly opening and closing.

"Is he still alive?" Su Ming'an asked. He hadn't expected the person who fought with him to the death was Lv Shu himself.

"Alive," Sique said, "You didn't kill him."

"Is Siyi the Supreme Lord?"

Sique laughed: "How could she be considered a Supreme Lord? Oh... she can be considered the Supreme Lord of this plane of [Daylight Floating City], so it's not wrong to call her that."

Su Ming'an acutely noticed: "So, she is not Luowasha's Supreme Lord Toso Lius."

Sique said: "Of course not, Toso Lius wouldn't be against you, she is only the ruler of [Daylight Floating City], so she's called the Supreme Lord."

Su Ming'an breathed a sigh of relief, as he said, he hadn't even seen the Gods, how could he be against the Supreme Lord from the start. It turns out this title did not only refer to one person, as long as one is the strongest in the plane, they are "Supreme."

"Then her keeping me away from the 2021 version of Su Ming'an, was it really to not disrupt the protagonist's plot and drive away us transmigrators?" Su Ming'an posed a question.

Sique chuckled, looking at the swaying wisteria outside the window, his gaze rose:

"Let me think... can I talk about this part of the information... at this stage, I probably can."

"I'll use a metaphor, you see."

He raised a finger and drew a pink jellyfish in the air:

"This is a jellyfish, its name is 'World Game'."

"And here, there's a bird." Sique raised a finger of his right hand and drew a bird in the air: "Its name is 'Simulation Server'."

He waved his fingers, and in Su Ming'an's shocked view, the jellyfish let out a "poof" sound, swallowing the bird.

"The World Game reigns over everything, but someone is thinking... can we imitate the World Game with authority, create a counterfeit World Game, which is a simulation server?" Sique pointed to the bird inside the jellyfish:

"As you can see, someone created a 'Simulation Server', and it was included in the 'World Game'."

"Thus, there exists two types of game rules simultaneously in this world — the first is the most eternal cosmic rules from the World Game. The second is rules set by the creator from the simulation server."

"Since the bird is contained within the jellyfish, when players wander inside the bird, they assume they are still under the realm of the jellyfish, not realizing they've already entered the bird, namely a simulation server made by others — the 2021 version you see is such a simulation server."

"If you want Luowasha to sever its link with the World Game and counterattack against the organizers —"

Sique said something extremely shocking:

"— then you must let this 'simulation server' originating from the World Game, devour the World Game, or, rival the World Game."

"That's it." Under his drawing, the next moment, the bird inside the jellyfish suddenly pecked back — like slurping noodles, the jellyfish was sucked into the bird's stomach.

Su Ming'an stared at the scene of the bird devouring the jellyfish, and spoke:

"Sique, what you mean is, this is..."

"[letting the inferior currency drive out the better currency, letting piracy kill authenticity?]"

Sique's meaning was that someone was trying to create an imitation of the World Game to counterkill the World Game. This sounded very unrealistic, how could an imitation counterkill the original?

"A very shameful statement, but that's how it is." Sique spread his hands: "Is piracy killing authenticity that rare?"

He chuckled: "This plan should have been going on for quite some time... the appearance of the 2021 version of Su Ming'an signifies that there has been preliminary progress."

Su Ming'an said: "[So you mean, the 2021 version of Su Ming'an is a piracy. And I am the original? The people who made the Disciple Game want to let the piracy cover me, the original? And thus rival the World Game?]"

Sique was silent, as if in tacit agreement.

Su Ming'an carefully recalled, he found that the 2021 version of Su Ming'an indeed had many differing aspects, like Little Su being overly chuunibyou, overly aggressive. And compared to the World Game, the Disciple Game lacked much plot, the instance backgrounds were vastly different, for instance, there was no Xiao Han, Rebel Army, Elisa, and others.

So the Disciple Game is... a deliberately created [pirate World Game], depicting a pirated plot rather than events that truly occurred.

The purpose is... to counter the authentic World Game.

So, sending out the plot correctors, driving Su Ming'an out of the instance mainline, letting Little Su go adventuring, face the mechanical Mother Goddess, stand in the spotlight, was to let Little Su cover Su Ming'an's protagonist role.

Although exactly how to counter it is still unclear, the person's goal is already clear:

— to let 2021 cover 2024.

— to let piracy counterkill the authentic.

...

"Then, you can start choosing." Sique extended his hand, pushing three plates towards Su Ming'an.

"What choice?" Su Ming'an said.

"Your... path."

Sique's right hand closed its five fingers, the tips inclined toward the dish.

"Next, you have the choice to join those people's organization, and together with them, create a knock-off version of the World Game—called the Disciple Game—in an attempt to find a way to counter the World Game." The first dish holds a colorful macaron.

"Or, stand on the side of the World Master, following the World Game bug they've researched, letting the Demonization Crisis run its course, and eventually transcending to High Dimensions." The second dish holds a strawberry cream pudding.

"Or, obey the World Tree, becoming the genuine Protagonist, progressing step by step, walking the most assured path, eventually earning the favor of the World Game to save the precarious destiny of civilization." The third dish holds a brown-black chocolate mousse.

Su Ming'an's hands came together, silently staring at the three pieces of dessert. It was as if he stood again at the crossroads of destiny, feeling the same as when deciding whether to join the Peak Alliance.

Three pieces of dessert, three choices, three paths, three outcomes.

The weight of civilization pressed on his shoulders, seventy billion lives at stake. Yet, behind him, there was no one.

In this dream, no one could offer him advice.

The needleless clock on the wall ticked, time passed silently, as the host of the tea party lifted the porcelain cup.

Steam drifted, his eyelashes softly trembled between reality and illusion, like the wings of a Magpie. He remained extremely silent, offering no suggestive words because the responsibility did not rest on his shoulders. This decision, too, was left for Su Ming'an to make.

"Decide carefully," Sique said.

Su Ming'an stood in the forked paths of the garden.

The sun was piercing, and he looked up.

"...[He thought time had countless series, diverging, merging, or parallel, weaving into a complicated, expanding web.]" His voice rang out, recalling stories from the once Lin Guang bookshelf:

"[The network woven by time drawing closer, diverging, intersecting, or never interfering contains all possibilities.]"

"[For most of time, we do not exist; in some times, there is you without me; in others, there is me without you; and in yet more, both you and I exist.]"

Because time forever forks, leading to countless futures.

In a time not clearly defined, I felt abstractly comprehending this world, the blurred yet vibrant fields, the moon, evening hours, and the carefree downhill path.

All this overwhelmed me with emotions.

I seem to belong to this world, yet also ought to wander beyond it, barren and painful, struggling yet confined, unsure whether it should end now for Zhai Xing's betterment, or flow towards unknown horizons.

Then, three dishes were slowly pushed aside by him. The macaron tilted, the strawberry pudding shivered, and the chocolate mousse collapsed.

The nineteen-year-old, burdened with the lives of seventy billion, spoke:

...

"I choose you."

...

I choose your road, Sique.

Sique's five fingers pointed at the three desserts, but Su Ming'an saw, Sique's other hand placed before his chest, fingertips inward. The fingertips aimed... at Sique himself.

This was... A fourth choice difficult to discern.

The purple-haired youth heard it, his lips barely moved. His path was overgrown, too serene, people often stood long at the crossing without thinking to tread it.

"Supreme Lord, World Tree, Twenty-seven Gods, Twelve Organizers..." Su Ming'an said:

"They're too big, too distant, too high. But you seem unafraid, I want to know your method."

He lifted his head, meeting Sique's golden eyes like molten flames:

"The world's Hui Yao and the shepherd of time, the lighthouse to living beings, most spirited and wise Creator—Sique Olivius."

"I want to know your path."

The options given by Sique were good, the three paths Su Ming'an thought of.

But what about Sique's own ideas? What path has Sique himself already tread?

The purple-haired youth slowly collected the three dishes of dessert, the red tea flowing from the teapot's spout. His eyelids drooped halfway, gazing intently at Su Ming'an, the wings at his temple moving subtly.

"[You know so many paths you cannot tread them all.]" His tone was prolonged, uplifting, like chanting poetry.

"Mm."

"[You know you chose the less traveled one.]"

"Mm."

"[You know this road extends endlessly.]"

"Mm."

"[You know you likely cannot return.]"

"I know."

"[You know there's no 'see you another day.']"

"I know."

"[You cannot sigh thinking of the past.]"

"I know."

...

The tea party host stood up.

He leaned forward, placing his palm before Su Ming'an.

Rustle, rustle.

Like the wind rustling leaves, birds lightly chirping, butterflies fluttering wings.

Snow-white radiance gathered in Sique's palm, slowly taking form.

Su Ming'an looked up,

He witnessed the surrounding scene... suddenly turning dreamlike, a dark blue whale carrying silver bright sands flew from the eaves, carving a trailing rainbow of bubbles. The ceiling transformed into a hanging deep green ocean, lush trees all chanting and dancing, like waves crashing against stones, like branches swaying leaves.

The floor steamed with emerald flames, pinkish rain threads floated from outside, flames burned in the downpour, crescent yellow stars fell among vast unending waves, like broken light blots, like lost moonlight.

Colored bubbles slid past Su Ming'an's cheeks, their soft touch like a fairy tale licking his face.

Then, the purple hair fluttered.

Radiance gathered at the youth's palm, gradually forming... a purple-gold feather pen.

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