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Chapter 25: The Buddha
Lin Song pulled the trigger—bang, bang, bang—three shots in quick succession.
One of the pursuing Zan gods recoiled as if struck by a hammer, its head snapping back before it collapsed to the ground. Nearby Zan gods abandoned their chase, immediately feasting on its flesh.
The vehicle jolted, but Lin Song’s next three bullets still found their mark on another Zan god. His shooting accuracy was the one thing he excelled at in the military, but this time, the bullets failed to hit the creature’s head. The Zan god merely shook its body and continued its relentless pursuit as if unscathed.
“Damn it,” Lin Song cursed under his breath, readjusting his stance and firing three more rounds.
This time, the shots struck the head. The Zan god finally fell still.
But more and more Zan gods were charging with rabid fury. Out of the original hundred or so, only about twenty had been killed in the chaos of battle—hardly noticeable losses. Lin Song’s efforts were but a drop in the ocean against the tide of Zan gods bearing down on them. Some were even wreathed in flames, emerging from the inferno where Pasang Dorje and the others had sacrificed themselves, racing toward the convoy faster than the speeding vehicles.
Yet not all the cars intended to escape.
The outermost vehicles at the rear, once caught by the Zan gods, swerved away from the convoy and charged into the wilderness. Most didn’t get far—they either crashed into rocks or collided head-on with each other, dragging the Zan gods atop them into destruction.
These were the elders’ cars, forming Pasang Dorje’s second line of defense, prepared to die for their fellow Tibetans.
But such heroic sacrifices caused only minor inconveniences for the Zan gods. Most managed to drag the elderly drivers out of their cabins and kill them before the vehicles could escape. Even those unfortunate few who failed quickly overturned the cars, recovered from the collisions, and resumed their assault.
They were demons.
Inhuman, incomprehensible beings wielding absurdly terrifying power.
Cries of despair echoed through the convoy—women and children weeping in unison. A Tibetan boy, tears and snot streaming down his face, leaned out of a car window and fired a rifle at the Zan gods. The creatures cackled, running faster than the vehicle. One opened its jaws wide, biting off the boy’s entire head, chewing briefly before swallowing it whole.
The headless corpse slumped against the car window. Inside, a woman wailed—perhaps the boy’s mother or sister. But her car slowed slightly, and the Zan god tore open the door, dragging her out as well.
The now-driverless car swerved sideways, catching a Zan god off guard and crushing it beneath its wheels, rendering it motionless.
“There’s no escape,” Tsering Chokyi sobbed, tears streaming down her face.
She knew her father had died there. Watching what had been an intact convoy moments ago descend into ruin and near extinction left an indelible scar on the young Tibetan girl’s heart.
“Buddha,” she murmured. “Bodhisattva, save us.”
Li Xingyuan didn’t know how to comfort her. In this dire situation, he couldn’t think of any solutions either. He looked at Tsering Chokyi and found himself muttering along with her.
Buddha, Bodhisattva, save us.
A Zan god fell.
As if struck by an invisible whip, the creature preparing to leap onto a vehicle was slammed out of the air, landing lifelessly on the ground. Its head was twisted and deformed, clearly crushed.
Before the others could pounce to devour it, many more Zan gods surrounding it were felled by unseen blows, collapsing dead.
The scene was bizarre and surreal. Not just the Tibetans, but even the Zan gods seemed momentarily stunned, standing frozen in confusion as the invisible whip shattered skull after skull.
“It’s the Buddha!” Tsering Chokyi raised her tear-streaked face, her sorrow transformed into fervent devotion. She clasped her hands together and shrieked, “Look! Look up! Toward the sun! The Buddha has come to save us!”
Li Xingyuan turned eastward. Beneath the intense sunlight, a shadow had indeed appeared—a humanoid figure resembling a Buddha, its silhouette framed by flowing ribbons of light-like halos hovering in the sky.
Could it really be the Buddha? Had the Buddha heard their prayers and come to rescue them?
Li Xingyuan stared at the sky, dumbfounded. It felt utterly absurd. His twenty-some years of life rejected such a notion entirely.
But what if it were true? If the Zan gods—the demons from Tibetan mythology—were real, why couldn’t the Buddha exist too? Was it so impossible for benevolent deities to coexist alongside the dark, absurd, and chaotic forces of this world?
If the Buddha truly existed, it would be a great blessing! People could be saved. The compassionate Buddha would surely deliver everyone from suffering!
The figure descended slowly, disturbing the air around it with an invisible force—perhaps part of its divine power, the very force that had slain the Zan gods.
“Stop the car!” Tsering Chokyi screamed. Before Old Liu could fully stop the vehicle, she flung open the door and rushed out, prostrating herself before the figure.
“Buddha!” she cried, tears streaming down her face. Other surviving Tibetans followed suit, kneeling before the figure. “Save my father!”
But as the figure drew closer, Li Xingyuan, Old Liu, and Lin Song—who were still gazing upward—realized something was wrong.
As the shadows cast by the backlight faded, Li Xingyuan finally saw the “Buddha’s” true form.
“Run! Tsering!” Li Xingyuan shouted desperately. “It’s not the Buddha!”
The radiant glow surrounding the figure wasn’t holy light—it was translucent, wing-like membranes. The praying humanoid was no Buddha. Instead, it resembled a grotesque mantis-like creature, its arms bent unnaturally, its skin shimmering like flowing metal.
“Look up!” Li Xingyuan urged urgently. “Take a look, Tsering Chokyi! See what stands before you!”
No matter how loudly Li Xingyuan called, Tsering Chokyi kept her head bowed, refusing to look up even for a moment.
The air around the insectoid being shimmered faintly. With a single movement, the heads of all the kneeling Tibetans rolled off simultaneously, silencing their cries instantly.
Then, the mantis-like creature turned its gaze toward Li Xingyuan and spoke in an eerily calm voice:
“Hello.”
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