Facing an Ancient God for a Year

And at a certain moment, he realized the root of this contradiction—set thinking.

Why assume that Laxik plays the same role as I do?

Why be so sure that he too was tasked to come here?

In previous missions, I have encountered more than one predecessor who failed miserably, so when I come across similar behavior, I subconsciously categorize it as the same nature.

Therefore, in earlier missions, after discovering the tragedy of Laxik, I took it for granted that his situation also had a solution.

Is it possible that the dilemma he faced was unsolvable from the start?

No matter how hard he tried, was he doomed to a failed outcome, persistent only to result in the dissipation of his soul, enduring endless torment?

Understanding this, it’s easy to realize the difference between myself and Laxik—it lies in him.

The difference between the predicaments Laxik and I face is that, comparatively speaking, there is the variable of him.

The first task, which was to find Laxik, was definitely not meaningless.

Even after finding him, my new task also related to him—to transcend reincarnation with Laxik.

It’s precisely his existence that brings the possibility of transcending reincarnation.

So to complete the mission, I must make good use of Laxik as a variable.

Moreover, if this speculation is true, it has to be said that Brother Laxik is quite tragic.

All his efforts in the predicament, tearing himself apart in a struggle that annihilated both body and soul, seems to have served merely as a key for others to use.

…

“You’re back.”

When I returned to Chief Jones’ house, the couple was like the first time I met them, one watching TV on the sofa, the other clearing the dishes.

And Mrs. Mary, evidently less experienced in these matters, greeted me with a slightly unnatural expression.

I wonder if it’s because of some discontent regarding the previous “false accusation.”

Regrettably, it’s very difficult for me to feel any guilt.

“Yes, how is Fran doing now?”

With a normal expression, Fu Qian smiled and responded, even taking the opportunity to inquire about his companion.

“She seemed a bit tired and went to rest a while ago. You can knock on the door and see if she’s fallen asleep.”

Mrs. Mary nodded and pointed upstairs, her face giving nothing away. Fu Qian thanked her and, making his way upstairs with softened footsteps, noticed that Chief Jones on the sofa hadn’t turned around, seemingly having given up such an opportunity for observation.

“You’re back?”

Just two knocks and the door opened from the inside.

Fran stood at the doorway, looking tired as she faced Fu Qian, repeating the same words as Mrs. Mary.

Oh? She’s changed back.

Seeing her for the first time, Fu Qian immediately made a judgment.