178: Chapter 178 When I swung my hammer, the whole server heard it.

The night wind swept the fine sand of the Starry Sky Ruins, whistling between the broken towers and crumbling walls.

Chen Fan stood with one foot on a half-tilted white marble pillar. The head of the hammer of the thunder god Hammer was deeply embedded in a pile of rubble. The gold patterns on the handle snaked along the cracks in the ground, spreading in all directions—they were the wave-like runes left by the Jade Slip Light Dust, now slowly flowing like living things, emitting a gentle halo under the moonlight.

A slight sound of grinding stones came from behind him.

The Quiet Monument Artisan, hunched over, grasped a chisel half a foot long with his withered, bark-like hands, putting force into a massive rock twice his height. With every strike, stone chips rustled onto his blue cloth apron, and the light in his right eye dimmed slightly.

"Black Crow, Speaker, died on the seventh floor of the Sound Prison Tower," the old craftsman's hoarse voice mixed with the sound of chiseling, like sandpaper grinding against rusty gears.

Chen Fan's Adam's apple bobbed.

He pulled out the last half piece of hard candy from his pocket, his fingertips rubbing the creases on the wrapper—a newcomer with blue hair had given it to him just now, saying, "Captain, eat something sweet, it makes your hammer strikes stronger."

"They will erase it tomorrow." He squatted down, his fingertip gently touching the newly carved writing on the rock face, stone powder clinging to his skin. "The system's Scavengers will crush the rock and the earth together, your monument..."

"As long as someone reads the name aloud again, I haven't gone blind." The Quiet Monument Artisan suddenly stopped hammering.

When he looked up, Chen Fan finally noticed that the old man's left pupil was clouded over, turning grayish-white, as if covered in mist.

The night wind lifted the white hair from his forehead, revealing a deep, bone-visible old scar on his temple—it was from the Purifier's energy blade strike last time.

The old craftsman raised his chisel, turning the handle halfway in his palm. "I have carved three thousand six hundred and twenty-seven names. I lost my hearing, lost my voice, and now it's time for my eyes..." He struck down heavily again. "But every name that is remembered makes the system's lie thinner."

Before his words faded, the Quiet Monument Artisan's left eye snapped shut with a 'pop'.

Chen Fan saw his eyelashes tremble violently, like a dying butterfly.

A crisp sound, like shattering glass, suddenly echoed from the horizon.

Chen Fan looked up and saw a crimson light screen tearing through the clouds. Blood-red characters poured out from the screen, churning above the Starry Sky: [Detecting large-scale consciousness pollution, executing area-wide cleansing—Purifier Protocol Activated].

"They're here." Chen Fan gripped the handle of the hammer of the thunder god, the old scar on his palm throbbing with pain.

He could hear the system whispering in his sea of consciousness, like rusty gears jamming: [Warning! Detecting abnormal rule disturbance, immediate recommendation...]

A hundred dark figures broke through the clouds and descended.

Those figures were encased in armor glowing with cold light, their faceplates covering their entire faces, revealing only crimson pupils.

They landed without making a sound, instantly forming three ranks in a horizontal formation before the ruins. The person at the very front, however, was unarmored—it was Qian Lü.

The black robe of the Shadow Pavilion Master billowed in the wind, dark gold runes winding around his cuffs, the edges of his clothes, and even the tips of his hair. With every step he took, ice-blue decree light patterns condensed beneath his feet.

"Chen Fan." His voice sounded like two pieces of cold iron striking each other. "You should understand, resistance is just nourishment for the system's evolution." He raised his hand, and the nearest Purifier armor suddenly cracked open, revealing dense data cables inside. "They will slice your consciousness; your 'critical hits' and your 'truth' will all become new rule patches."

"Patches?" Chen Fan pulled at the corner of his mouth, a smear of blood spreading on his chin. "You talk about archiving, but they—" He pointed to the massive rock behind the Quiet Monument Artisan, "—are dead! Dead, wiped clean by you using 'data anomaly' as an excuse!"

He suddenly swung the hammer of the thunder god over his head.

The gold patterns on the handle suddenly surged, like snakes coming to life, rushing along the earth-vein runes in all directions.

Chen Fan could clearly sense those waves vibrating; every single one connected to an Awakened's nameplate, connected to the blue-haired newcomer's smile, connected to the steam rising when Su Shuang brewed tea in the Teahouse.

"Linguistic Critical Hit—Triggered!"

The system notification exploded across the entire server, but Chen Fan forcibly distorted it into another waveform using the sound of his hammer.

The countdown for [Player Chen Fan has logged off] appeared before his eyes: 3... 2... 1—

Golden light burst from the tip of the hammer.

Chen Fan watched his consciousness rush along the earth veins. Wherever it passed, the blood-red characters on the Starry Sky light screen were forcibly overwritten.

Distorted ripples condensed into text in the void, like sand blown apart and then gathered again: "The first notification you heard was the beginning of the lie."

"Look! Up in the sky!"

"My nameplate is vibrating! It's burning my hand!"

The exclamations of millions of newcomers surged through the earth veins, washing over Chen Fan's sea of consciousness like a tide.

He saw the blue-haired newcomer standing in the center of the rift, waving his glowing nameplate toward the sky; he saw Su Shuang in the Teahouse suddenly clench the hand holding her teacup, ice cracks spreading along her knuckles; he even saw an old man, marked by the system as 'Silent State,' trembling in a broken house as he reached for an old photograph on the wall—in the photo, a young him had his arm around another man in work clothes.

"Seeking death," faint blue flames emerged from Qian Lü's fingertips.

The flames had no heat, yet they caused the air to ripple with distortion—it was Light Erosion Flame.

The net of fire pressed down upon the ground, and wherever it passed, the characters carved by the Quiet Monument Artisan hissed, like paper being corroded by strong sulfuric acid.

"The names cannot be lost!" The Quiet Monument Artisan suddenly straightened his stooped back.

Only then did Chen Fan realize the old man's back had been broken long ago, held together only by bamboo strips and coarse thread.

His movement toward the massive rock was like a withered leaf, yet he managed to knock aside half of the fire net.

Blood surged from the corner of his mouth, spraying onto the two characters 'Black Crow,' "Black... Crow... Does... Not... Die..."

The Light Erosion Flame licked the Quiet Monument Artisan's ankle; his heel instantly vaporized; it licked his calf, exposing white, gleaming bone; it licked his waist, and the bamboo strips emitted a scorched smell.

But the old man's fingers still gripped the stone crevices, and with every word he spoke, a drop of blood splashed onto the rock face.

When the word 'die' left his lips, his entire body suddenly disintegrated into a shower of golden dust. Only the blood-red characters on the massive rock emitted a blinding red light, scorching black holes into the Light Erosion Flame.

Chen Fan's pupils contracted to pinpricks.

He heard the system screaming, raising a tempest in his sea of consciousness: [Detecting tens of millions of mental resonances—Group Critical Hit Sign Initiated!]

"Old thing!" Chen Fan's voice trembled.

He swung the hammer of the thunder god. The gold patterns on the handle suddenly branched out into thousands of fine threads, wrapping around every Awakened's nameplate.

"You son of a bitch..." His throat tightened. "You said someone had to read the name..."

The triple critical hit notifications exploded almost simultaneously: [Critical Hit! 8.1x] [Critical Hit! 9.3x] [Critical Hit! 10.0x]!

A golden wave erupted from the hammer tip, like a sword cleaving heaven and earth.

The Light Erosion Flame was burned to ashes, the Purifier armor shattered piece by piece, and even Qian Lü staggered back half a step, spiderweb cracks appearing on the runes of his black robe.

The text on the Starry Sky light screen changed again. This time it was as clear as if carved onto everyone's retinas: "We are not data, we are people!"

Qian Lü looked up at the line of text, the runes in his eyes showing disorder for the first time. "You ignited the fire..." His voice lowered slightly. "But fire will eventually consume the one who holds it."

Chen Fan stood before the blood-stained monument left by the Quiet Monument Artisan. The hammer of the thunder god rang softly.

The system's whisper suddenly became clear, like the steam rising from Su Shuang's teapot: [You... are becoming the kindling for the new rule].

In the distance, the first cry of "We refuse!" sliced through the night sky.

The sound was light, yet it was like a stone tossed into a deep pool, stirring up layers of ripples.

The second, the third, hundreds and thousands of voices surged from every corner of the city, converging into a tornado that tore a rift in the blood-red curtain of the Starry Sky.

Chen Fan pulled out the half piece of hard candy from his pocket and placed it before the blood monument.

The wrapper rustled in the night wind, as if someone were speaking softly.

He bent down, picked up the chisel dropped by the Quiet Monument Artisan, and carved beneath the blood monument: "Quiet Monument Artisan, Carver of Monuments, died in the Starry Sky Ruins—His eyes saw three thousand six hundred and twenty-seven names for us."

At the edge of the Starry Sky Ruins, the system's cleansing program quietly initiated.

The cold, glowing data stream swept over a patch of weeds where a mound of fresh earth lay buried.

The instant the data stream swept past, a faint glimmer rose from the mound of earth—it was half a candy wrapper, stained with blood that had already turned black.