Chapter 129: The Board Is Set

Chapter 129: The Board Is Set It was quiet. The kind of quiet that screamed. Li Chen stood inside a dome of ancient crystal, breath shallow, eyes wide, hand pressed against the glowing, pulsing surface of the Eye of Reversal. It wasn’t an artifact. It wasn’t even a treasure. It was a wound. A scar left behind by something that should never have been born — a remnant of a cosmic rebellion, sealed and buried so deep even the universe forgot it was there. Except... He found it. Because he needed it. Hei Long had taken everything. Every win. Every woman. Every narrative thread that should’ve belonged to the protagonist. Li Chen used to be the main character. Now? He was a footnote. And so—he made a deal. Not with a god. Not with a demon. But with something worse: Narrative entropy. [System Notification Detected] DING! WARNING: You are attempting to override core protagonist logic.Estimated Survival Probability: 4.6%Side Effects May Include: Memory loss. Identity degradation. Chrono-bleeding. Irreversible fragmentation.Proceed? "...Yes." Final Confirmation: By initiating this sequence, you accept that not all of you will remain. "I don’t need all of me," Li Chen said softly. "I just need the part that wins." The Eye of Reversal Opened. It didn’t glow. It inhaled. The chamber darkened. Air vanished. Time twitched. And Li Chen screamed. His bones cracked out of rhythm. His thoughts splintered. Memories pulled from his skull like paper caught in a vacuum. His system shattered and reformed and screamed again. He forgot his name. Then remembered it. Then forgot again. He remembered Zhao Yuran’s face. Then forgot what she meant. He remembered Hei Long’s smirk. And that stuck. That one thing — that burning, agonizing image — stayed lodged in his brain like a sword shoved into the base of the skull. He would kill him. Even if it cost him everything else. Three Hours Later – Above Ground Students screamed as the sky changed color. A swirling hole of negative energy opened above the cultivation tower. Bells rang. Emergency formations lit up. The ground trembled. And then— Li Chen walked out of the crater. Or what was left of him. His clothes were gone, burned away. Replaced with a spiraling, half-shifting armor of obsidian thread and warped qi. His right arm was longer now — blackened, tendrils of spiritual data flickering at the fingertips. His hair had turned silver. Not bright. Dead. And his eyes? Empty. Like the world behind them had been wiped clean and rewritten in pure spite. [System Notification – Reconstructed Core Protocol] New Title Acquired: Narrative DefectorRole: [Unstable Anti-Protagonist]Power Source: Self-DestructionBonus Trait: Plot Armor becomes Plot Poison – Any attempt to help you will fail. Only hatred will keep you alive.Objective: Delete the Story. Start Over. Meanwhile – Hei Long’s Penthouse He felt it. Not through senses. Not through formation detection or divine intuition. He felt it in the air. Like someone had broken the fourth wall and started setting fire to the script itself. He walked to the window. Stared out at the swirling mass of corrupted narrative that hovered over the campus like a dying god’s eye. "...He touched the Eye," Hei Long murmured. Leng Qingxue stood behind him, gaze tight, hand on her blade. "Should we prepare?" "No." She frowned. "Why not?" Hei Long turned slightly. And smiled. "Because he’s broken now." "And broken things can’t beat me." Scene: Zhao Yuran’s Dream She ran down a hallway. Every door she opened led to Hei Long standing still, motionless. Watching. Then the last door opened— And Li Chen stood there instead. Or what used to be him. But his mouth moved like static, and his face was melting, and his voice came out in Hei Long’s tone. She woke up screaming. And didn’t know why. The Next Morning – Imperial Academy Courtyard They saw him again. Li Chen. Walking slowly through the center courtyard. Everyone stepped back. Some ran. Some watched in horror. Even the teachers didn’t move to intervene. Because as he walked, flowers wilted. Spiritual arrays flickered. And clouds above formed strange, jagged shapes. He stopped in front of the main notice board. And drove his hand through the stone. Carving a message: "This world belongs to no one. Especially not him." He turned. And walked toward the tower where Hei Long lived. With every step, the sky dimmed. And the system itself glitched. The lights were dim. Not because the room lacked power, but because Hei Long preferred shadows. At the center of the chamber stood a massive obsidian table, shaped like a chessboard — but larger, grander, and terrifyingly alive. Each square pulsed faintly, etched with runes that flickered between strategies, names, and destinies. It wasn’t a game. It was a battlefield. And Hei Long was placing his pieces. Not tokens. Not concepts. But people. Living, breathing pieces — each one unaware that they had already been moved. Piece One: Zhao Yuran – The Unmoored Flame Hei Long dragged her token to the left side of the board — near the edge of the "Protagonist Collapse Zone." She had been trained to burn brightly for someone else. Now, she hovered between regret and obsession. Between what she could’ve had and what she wanted but wouldn’t admit. "A knight with cracked armor," Hei Long murmured. "Eager to charge, unsure of the direction." He didn’t touch her piece again. Because he didn’t need to. She would move herself. Piece Two: Leng Qingxue – The Disciple Blade Her token glided into the center with a thought — positioned precisely four tiles from his own, flanked by blank spaces. "She doesn’t need orders," he said. "She waits for permission she already has." Leng Qingxue’s loyalty was absolute. But her heart was not unshaken. Hei Long knew that. He also knew she wouldn’t flinch — not even if the world crumbled beneath her. Because she’d chosen her side long ago. Piece Three: Li Chen – The Broken Pawn His piece was unstable. It flickered. Shifted. No longer pure white, no longer the color of the hero’s mantle. It bled with threads of black and crimson, like a candle made of ash. Hei Long watched it move on its own, breaking the rules of the board, skipping turns, erasing tiles as it advanced. "No longer predictable," he whispered. "But still... reactive." He didn’t place Li Chen. He watched him be placed. By something else. And that something wasn’t done. Piece Four: The Hidden Bishop – Elder Fang A neutral force within the university — wise, reserved, unaligned. But not for long. Hei Long dropped the piece two tiles behind Leng Qingxue. "He will see the future," Hei Long muttered, "and choose the present out of fear." Another forced ally. Another inevitability. Then – The Final Piece: Hei Long Himself He didn’t place it. Because the board had already carved a space for him. A black tile, rimmed in silver, pulsing like a heartbeat. And around it... the board warped. Rules bent. Squares shifted. Even the concept of turns fractured. Because he wasn’t a piece. He was the hand. The one who moved others. And the world knew it. A Voice Behind Him "You’re doing it again," said Leng Qingxue, stepping into the chamber. "Playing chess?" "Playing God." He turned, calmly. She looked at the board, expression unreadable. "You’ve already chosen where we stand," she said. "No," he replied. "I’ve only accounted for where you’ll move." "Then what do you call it when the only paths you leave people are toward you or off a cliff?" He smiled. And didn’t answer. Because that was the answer. She stepped beside him, eyes on the flickering token of Li Chen — now hovering at the edge of the board, glitching into tiles it shouldn’t occupy. "He’s coming for you," she said. "I know." "Do you plan to kill him?" "I plan to beat him," Hei Long replied. "Isn’t that the same thing?" He turned to her — for once, a pause in his stoicism. "No. Killing ends a threat." "Beating someone ends their purpose." She stared. Then said softly, "And what if he still believes this is his story?" Hei Long tilted his head. Then whispered: "Then I’ll make the story scream." Meanwhile – In the Forbidden Caverns Beneath the University Li Chen stood surrounded by echoes. Statues of old gods shattered. Narrative laws torn apart by the Eye of Reversal’s lingering power. He bled from his mouth, but didn’t care. [System Glitch: Alignment Unstable.][Fate Anchor Rejected.][Power Level: Undefined.] He saw flashes of the chessboard. He heard Hei Long’s voice in his dreams. Saw his smug smirk behind every mirror. And now— He was coming. No more training arcs. No more side quests. Just one final route: "Delete the world. Take him with it." Next Day – Imperial University Grand Plaza Posters appeared overnight. Handwritten. Simple. Brutal. "You’re all pawns."— L.C. And beneath that, a second message: "The real game begins tomorrow. Final class dismissed." Back at Hei Long’s Tower He stood before the board one last time. Pieces in place. Some unaware. Some trembling. Some—like Qingxue—waiting. And he whispered: "Come, then." "Let me show you how this game really ends."