The Creatures That We Are

Chapter 700: What is Given

His stopping point was 2100. Surprisingly, 2020 was enough.

Before Gao Yang even asked the question, the system explained, “You may now make a wish to the Wishing Well. When you want a Talent enough and are willing to pay a certain number of Luck points, the accuracy and success rate of comprehending the Talent will be increased substantially.”

“How much will it cost to make a wish?” Gao Yang asked.

“The first time comes with a discount. You only have to use 1000 Luck points.”

—That’s on a discount?!

—You can just rob me of all my points, but you give me a chance to make a wish. What a good guy. I’m crying here.

Still, Gao Yang didn’t hesitate to say, “I’m making a wish.”

“Sending you to the Wishing Well.”

The system’s form became translucent as it said so, and the room faded away until becoming one with the darkness. Hovering in the darkness, Gao Yang felt weightless.

Soon, he heard an ancient, lonesome sound that inspired a deep fear and deference, seemingly climbing up from under his feet along a current.

It felt like the turbulent undercurrent at the bottom of an abyss, the whispers and cries of countless wretched spirits, or...the strange sounds of souls being burned like firewood.

Gao Yang had thought that nothing could scare him anymore, and yet the sound made him close his eyes and tremble, like an instinct.

Half a minute later, the weightlessness faded, and his feet touched “ground”.

Gao Yang mustered the courage to open his eyes.

What he saw stunned him.

There was no sky and land nor light and shadow. It was a complete void. Under his feet was a black abyss at a scale that was beyond verbal description. Around the abyss—around the great boundless boundary seemingly beyond his sight—was a deep gray chaos that resembled sea water and thick fog. It continued to rush into the bottomless abyss in waves, like a circular waterfall.

He was reminded of a mythical site: Guixu, the bottomless void that devoured all[1].

At the heart of the great abyss was a white stone pillar that resembled a giant’s finger bone. It wasn’t so much standing in the abyss but floating above it since the bottom part of the pillar, like the bottom part of the abyss, couldn’t be seen.

Gao Yang was standing on the stone pillar. The top was only as wide as a telephone pole. Gao Yang couldn’t even move his feet, let alone turn around.

He didn’t dare to look down lest he lose his balance and fall into the great abyss. There was a fear greater than the fear of death—the fear of nothingness and the unknown.

He was left on his own here, the system long gone.

Suddenly, a loneliness great enough to fill heaven and earth entered his body, leaving his chest feeling empty, and he even forgot the instinctual fear that hit him.

The same sound came from the abyss below, like hidden currents, like whispering cries, like burning souls...

An ineffable dark gray matter started boiling. It continued to rise until quickly filling the vast abyss. Then countless pure white particles emerged from below the gray matter, becoming brighter and shinier.

Like tens of thousands of white planktons, they found their way as they swam around aimlessly, converging in two spots to form two large white vortexes.

Soon, the white vortexes became a pair of eyes. Following the eyes, the vague contours of a face emerged, too.

The giant’s face slowly rose above the abyss. It seemed to be struggling, the face distorted from suffocation with the gray matter retraining it like a membrane covering its face.

The face was taller than a mountain, and it towered over Gao Yang like a human looking at an ant.

“What is requested?”

The face didn’t have a mouth, but it had a profound, deep, and dignified voice.

It wasn’t speaking in human language, no. The voice came from all directions and bypassed Gao Yang’s eardrums to wash over all energy particles in his body instead. It made Gao Yang understand its will like a fish naturally understood water.

Gao Yang felt lightheaded, as if his soul had left his body. For a moment, he forgot to answer.

“What is requested?”

Again, the giant’s face struggled and distorted under the veil as it repeated the question.

“Absolute Defense!” Gao Yang recovered and shouted at the giant at the top of his lungs, making sure that it would hear him. “I want to comprehend Absolute Defense!”

The world quieted for a second. Gao Yang felt his voice sucked into nothingness.

“What is given?”

The voice spoke again, penetrating his body and mind to resonate with his energy.

Gao Yang was a little confused. It should take 1000 Luck points, right? He had agreed on that with the system.

He pushed aside his question and shouted, “1000 Luck points!”

...

“Not enough.”

The answer came a few seconds later.

Gao Yang continued to shout, “What do you want? What can I give you?”

The world was silent for three seconds.

“What do you want? What can I give you?” The voice repeated what Gao Yang said like an echo from the abyss.

Gao Yang was suddenly hit with an irritation and exhaustion he couldn’t control. He had enough of the riddles and mystery. He had enough of the pride, aloofness, and carelessness of a powerful being looking down on a weaker being.

His deference, fear, and concern evaporated, and he growled in anger, “I have nothing! Do you hear me? Nothing! You’re not taking anything from me!”

A silent loneliness stretched.

Then the voice spoke up again.

“Nothingness.”

“You chose to give nothingness.”

—What does that mean?

—How can nothing be given as something?

—Has it misunderstood my wish? What does this thing want?

Gao Yang was even more confused, but it seemed that he had made his wish successfully.

The two eyes of the face reverted to white vortexes before disassembling into tens of thousands of plankton and disappearing. Without the face, the dark gray veil covering the face was gone, too. Like beer foam, it slowly sank until disappearing into the bottomless abyss.

Gao Yang stood alone at the center of it, belonging not to heaven or earth.

...

Gao Yang opened his eyes wide. He was back in his college dorm room—the mental replication of it.

Mi Shi stood right before him with a smile. “Congratulations. You have succeeded in making a wish.”

Gao Yang looked down at his hands. Taking some time to calm himself, he looked up and asked coldly, “Do I have to go to that damn place every time I make a wish, System?”

“No. You have already met Them. From now on, you can make a wish from the system interface.”

—That’s better.

Gao Yang nodded. “I’m leaving.”

1. In Chinese mythology, Guixu is where all water flows into. Since the Milky Way was considered a river of stars, it, too, flows into Guixu. Gui means return, and xu means ruin, and it’s pronounced the same as the word that means void. ☜