Chapter 293: Ten Million Smiles

‘Who am I?’

If she couldn’t answer that question, her soul would completely disintegrate in this void.

Because a soul without a “self” couldn’t anchor itself in a space-time rift.

Cuiyue looked up at the towering figure of light.

“Jiang Jian Yue is an idiot,” she suddenly said.

Meiguan froze. “Huh?”

“Who would fall for a guy like Yuki Asahi? If that’s not being an idiot, what is?”

Cuiyue’s tone carried a hint of mockery.

“Oh?” Meiguan sounded interested.

“Yu Shirakawa…”

Cuiyue paused, her gaze softening for a moment, then hardening again.

“He was an innocent sacrifice. He gave everything away and chose to forget. That was his choice, not mine.”

She slowly straightened her body, wearing that bloodstained combat suit.

Her short, gray hair stirred without wind.

“I inherited their memories, that’s true. But that doesn’t mean I become them.”

“Memories are just experience, tools, reference books.”

“I am not Jiang Jian Yue, nor Yu Shirakawa. I am Cuiyue.”

The cracks in her patchwork soul were instantly sealed by some kind of strong glue called “self.”

A deathly silence lasted for a few seconds.

“Hahahahaha! Good!”

Meiguan suddenly burst into laughter, her body of light trembling violently.

“What are you laughing at?”

Meiguan stopped laughing, her body gradually dissolving until only a giant hand remained, gently cradling Cuiyue’s soul.

“Although I’d love to hand you your diploma right now, your body’s still tumbling around in that big washing machine out there.”

“Since you’ve found the answer, as a reward…”

Meiguan’s voice grew distant and ethereal.

“Live, Cuiyue. You’ll know what to do in the future.”

A huge force pushed against her, and Cuiyue felt herself hurled out of that white space.

The feeling of weightlessness returned.

……

“Woo— woo—”

The piercing wail of sirens cut through the sky, accompanied by the muffled sound of explosions in the distance.

Hot.

So hot.

That was Cuiyue’s first feeling upon regaining consciousness.

The air was thick with the acrid smell of burnt wood, grease, and rotting corpses.

She felt herself falling, but this fall wasn’t endless like in the space-time rift. It had a definite endpoint.

Gravity!

Bang!

The violent impact nearly knocked her unconscious again.

She crashed through a thin rooftop and landed heavily on a pile of rubble.

Dust flew everywhere, making her cough violently.

“Cough… cough…”

Cuiyue moved her fingers with difficulty.

Her pain nerves, as if just powered on, sent excruciating pain from her entire body to her brain.

A few ribs were broken, her left leg was completely numb, and her internal organs were probably displaced.

But she was still alive.

She struggled to open her eyes. Her vision was blurry, as if covered by a red veil.

Through the hole she had smashed in the ceiling, she saw a dusky yellow sky.

It wasn’t dusk. It was the night sky, reddened by the fire.

In the distance, searchlight beams swept through the clouds, as if hunting for prey.

A loud rumble passed overhead— the deep, distinctive engine sound of B-29 bombers.

“This is…”

Cuiyue tried to push herself up, but her arms gave out and she fell back.

This was clearly not modern Tokyo. No neon lights, no skyscrapers— only low wooden buildings and endless fire.

“Hey…”

A timid voice came from the shadows beside her.

Cuiyue warily tried to mobilize the energy in her body, but her Heartforce was depleted.

Not a trace of energy could gather, and the Light Bugs she used as substitutes were also used up.

She could only turn her head with effort.

In the shadow of a collapsed beam, a little boy was crouching.

He looked only five or six years old, covered in dirt, wearing a tattered shirt that was obviously several sizes too big, his pants full of patches.

His face was smeared with black soot, but his eyes were startlingly large.

In the glow of the fire, they gleamed with a mixture of wariness and curiosity.

In his hand, the boy held a charred wooden stick, apparently as a weapon for self-defense.

But seeing Cuiyue’s pitiful state, he relaxed his guard a little.

“Are you… a fairy from the sky?” the little boy asked cautiously.

Cuiyue looked at him, her mind clouded by concussion and blood loss.

“Water…” Her cracked lips moved.

The boy froze for a moment, then threw down the stick and pulled a dirty water flask from his shirt.

He hesitated for a second, then came closer and carefully brought the flask’s mouth to Cuiyue’s lips.

“There’s only a little bit left.”

The rusty-tasting water flowed into her throat. Though little, it was like nectar to her parched throat.

After a few sips, Cuiyue’s consciousness cleared a bit, but a strong hunger followed—the instinctive distress signal of a body that had overdrawn its energy.

“Big sister, you fell from the sky.”

The boy pointed to the hole above, his voice filled with a hint of awe.

“You fell like a bomb, but you didn’t explode.”

Cuiyue gave a bitter smile, pulling at the wound on her lip.

“Aren’t you… running?” she asked weakly. “The bombing…”

This must be Tokyo in 1945.

“I’m used to it.”

The boy sat beside her, hugging his knees. His eyes were hollow as he stared at the searchlights above.

“Mom said that if we hide here, the incendiary bombs won’t find us. And… I can’t run anymore. My stomach is so hungry.”

Hearing the word “hungry,” Cuiyue’s own stomach let out a thunderous rumble at the most inappropriate time.

The boy blinked. Suddenly, the “celestial being” who had fallen from the sky didn’t seem so scary.

“Is big sister hungry too?”

Cuiyue closed her eyes in resignation.

“What do you want to eat?”

The little boy asked, his voice carrying the innocence unique to a child, as if just saying it would make the food appear.

“I really want to eat white rice. The kind that’s piping hot and steaming, with a pickled plum on top.”

He swallowed and looked at Cuiyue expectantly.

“What about you, big sister? What do you want to eat?”

Cuiyue was stunned.

What did she want to eat?

The first thing that came to mind wasn’t any delicacy.

That name lingered on her tongue.

“I want to eat…”

“…Pineapple… bun.”

The boy tilted his head; he clearly hadn’t heard of that.

Cuiyue realized that in Japan, it should be called melon bun.

“Melon bun… melon…”

“It’s sweet and crispy… melon…”

It started to rain.

Black rain, mixed with ashes, fell on the burning ruins of Tokyo, and on the two figures—one big, one small.

“Melon…” the boy muttered.

……

The image before her eyes grew increasingly blurry, so Jiang Jian Yue took off her glasses.

She had guessed correctly: Cuiyue really did have her— Jiang Jian Yue’s— memories.

Even though there were no subsequent images, Jiang Jian Yue figured that Cuiyue was Meiguan.

But as for why Cuiyue later turned into that riddle-like state, these glasses clearly couldn’t see through time and space any longer.

What a waste of a Manifested Heart Weapon.

Tossing the glasses back into her Storage Space, Jiang Jian Yue sighed somewhat despondently.

She no longer had any intention of pursuing Meiguan’s concealment of the truth from her.

She just wanted Meiguan and Cuiyue to come back.

Even though, theoretically, the two seemed to be the same person, and that was “one person”—which was a joke.

If it could be done.

Jiang Jian Yue turned to look at the Puppet Sculpture that was packing things, ready to leave Seoul, where she had stayed for a few months.

She turned back, sinking her mind into the Trading Ability. A balance scale appeared in her mind.

She placed “ending all Heart Worm and supernatural disasters” on one side of the scale.

The price she offered was the entire Earth.

As she had expected, the price was too high to accept.

Then, what about “acquiring the concept of Reversal”?

The price: ten million smiles.

Huh?

How could such a conceptual thing be traded?

And ten million… can smiles even be collected?

No, there’s a trap.

Jiang Jian Yue was approaching this Trading Ability with the mindset of a “demon’s deal.”

So she didn’t rush into the trade.

Instead, she refined the trade content: “Reverse the function of the Shock Core that spawns Heart Worms into an ability that makes Heart Worms disappear, for one second.”

This time, the price was acceptable. Jiang Jian Yue would suffer from osteomalacia for ten days.

Afterward, Jiang Jian Yue tried playing word games with the Trading Ability many more times, confirming that this ability was incredibly powerful— Saiyonji simply didn’t know how to use it.

It was practically a wish-fulfillment ability.

When Jiang Jian Yue placed the question “Tell me why this world is a show” on the trade scale, the price she got puzzled her.

The trade price showed as empty, but the trade couldn’t be completed.

Hmm…

It seemed the secret of Chongzhong was something at a higher dimension, something even this invincible Trading Ability couldn’t know.

Just as Jiang Jian Yue was thinking, the Puppet Sculpture behind her finished packing the things to take.

Jiang Jian Yue casually stored the items in her Storage Space, then her entire body shot into the blood-red sky.

Speaking of which, the anomaly here would probably be noticed by outsiders soon.

After all, the alien disasters that had squeezed into this side of the world through the medium of the Bug God disappeared overnight.

Jiang Jian Yue looked back at that villa and at the Puppet Sculpture that had turned to ash at the entrance.

She felt a little reluctant, even after only a few months, she’d developed feelings.

A light sigh escaped her lips. She looked eastward, toward the island nation across the sea.

Yuki, I’m finally going to see you.

Although…

Although the show didn’t specifically describe Yuki Asahi’s subjective perspective, anyone with a little knowledge of cinematography and scriptwriting could tell…

Yuki Asahi wanted to kill her.

Jiang Jian Yue wasn’t surprised at all.

If he could really accept someone like her— a war criminal who had committed crimes against humanity— and treat her as he used to, she would have found that even crueler.

Even though all the civilians she had killed were granted eternal life in her Vision World, forever immersed in dreams from which they’d never wake.

But Jiang Jian Yue scorned to explain. She wasn’t going to have a talk with Yuki Asahi.

Saiyonji’s attitude basically represented Yuki Asahi’s.

They couldn’t accept Jiang Jian Yue’s “great achievement.”

Jiang Jian Yue was going to keep Yuki Asahi… by her side forever. Even if he didn’t want it.