Please support the translation by reading the translation and commenting on otakutl official site.
Thank you.
Everyone from Otaku Translation
Chapter 8: The Light Within
This wasn’t the strangest thing Li Xingyuan had encountered in recent days—it might not even make the top ten. In terms of danger, it likely didn’t rank in the top twenty either.
The vehicle was parked on the roadside as Old Liu conducted a quick inspection. The solid tires were intact and capable of handling the situation; only some flesh lodged around the axles needed clearing, and the brakes required checking.
After breaking through the serpent mass, the car had skidded down the mountain, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. From inside the vehicle, the carnage had been obscured by smeared blood, but now, stepping out and looking back, the full extent became clear. Several hairpin turns that would have been perilous even without obstructions or tire slippage had somehow been navigated smoothly by Old Liu—a feat bordering on miraculous.
Li Xingyuan couldn’t assist much with Old Liu’s work. A writer by trade, he was all but useless in this scenario.
Lin Song, too, could do little to help Old Liu. Instead, he joined Li Xingyuan in wiping away the gore clinging to the car—scraping off bone fragments and chunks of flesh embedded in the vehicle's body.
Thus, it was Lin Song and Li Xingyuan who first noticed the eclipse beginning, while Old Liu remained focused under the car.
By now, such occurrences no longer startled anyone. People had grown accustomed to them. The light dimmed from the sun’s core outward, gradually consuming nearly all illumination.
The verdant mountains were swallowed by darkness, leaving only the faint, cold glow of the sun’s residual arc.
Old Liu continued working beneath the car, flashlight clenched between his teeth. Li Xingyuan and Lin Song tried to keep cleaning the vehicle, but soon realized they could barely see what needed scrubbing. They retreated to the car to rest.
“Is it like this everywhere?” Lin Song asked, worry etched into his voice.
“Yes,” Li Xingyuan nodded, then reassured him: “But populated areas are better. Places like downtown Jiangcheng or The Ember Base are safer than the wilderness.”
“Jiangcheng…” Lin Song’s eyes briefly lit up, only to dim again. “I want to go home.”
“We’ll get there,” Li Xingyuan leaned back in his seat, his voice weary. “All of us will.”
“Mr. Li, what’s really going on?” Lin Song couldn’t resist asking. “Is it true about some high-energy particle storm hitting Earth? Can those particles really cause hallucinations like that?”
Li Xingyuan wasn’t sure which explanation was more believable. Compared to the absurd reality of physics collapsing entirely, the notion of high-energy particles at least offered some semblance of plausibility.
Seeing Li Xingyuan’s hesitation, Lin Song seemed to sense the discomfort and changed the subject. “How’s Jiangcheng doing these days?”
“It’s still Jiangcheng,” Li Xingyuan replied with a fleeting smile that quickly faded. “Like everywhere else, severe radiation sickness. And…”
And the light.
Li Xingyuan’s expression grew somber.
It was during the initial chaos, before order had completely unraveled, that he’d received his final assignment as a journalist—an interview regarding the mysterious beam of light that descended from the sky.
At the mere thought of it, his nerves tingled faintly, muscles twitching involuntarily. An indescribable, alien color unfurled before his mind’s eye, bitter and invasive like poison seeping across his tongue.
Unconsciously, Li Xingyuan clenched his fists, then released them. He closed his eyes, but the colors lingered, vivid against the darkness behind his eyelids—not external, but originating within his skull.
Perhaps it was the shock from earlier, but this time felt different from when he’d seen the light outside The Ember Base. This time, it gripped him forcefully, demanding acknowledgment. To witness that light was to be forever altered. Even if one escaped physical mutation, the mind itself was irrevocably opened. He had survived the catastrophe, but it wasn’t necessarily a blessing. That light had permanently changed him.
He couldn’t describe what he’d seen because human language had never been designed for such phenomena. Language had birthed civilization, yet the cosmic radiance had drained its seas dry.
“Mr. Li? Mr. Li!” Lin Song, seeing Li Xingyuan’s mouth open but no words emerge, grew alarmed and nudged him.
Li Xingyuan shut his mouth. The light receded, retreating deep into the ocean of his thoughts, waiting for another mental brush against the void.
“No, it’s nothing,” he murmured wearily, opening his eyes. This exhaustion surpassed anything he’d faced, even navigating roads overrun by snakes. Cold sweat drenched him as he sat motionless in the car.
At that moment, Old Liu climbed back into the vehicle, took one look at Li Xingyuan, exited again, and retrieved a blanket from the trunk.
“Rest for a bit.”
Li Xingyuan wrapped himself in the blanket, curling up on the backseat. He felt unusually frail, too weak even to muster thanks.
“What’s wrong with Mr. Li?” Lin Song whispered to Old Liu.
“You’ll understand eventually,” Old Liu replied simply.
Eventually, everyone living in this world would come to grasp its essence.
The age of normalcy had ended, vanished, never to return. This was the Age of Anomalies.
For humans of the old world to survive in this new era, they would need to undergo transformations akin to being reborn.
Leaning against the car door, Li Xingyuan was utterly exhausted—but sleep eluded him. His mind churned with fragmented, incomprehensible thoughts. Old Liu and Lin Song conversed quietly, likely about events in Jiangcheng. It made sense; Old Liu’s unit was stationed there, and even if he hadn’t witnessed things firsthand, he’d surely heard tales of the incidents in certain neighborhoods…
Lin Song sounded agitated, but Old Liu’s voice remained steady as always, calming those who heard him. Li Xingyuan couldn’t make out their words and instead returned to his own musings. That light… Perhaps it was precisely because he’d glimpsed its power that he found himself believing Chen Yancheng’s far-fetched claim about a beam of light capable of saving the world.
His thoughts remained chaotic, unformed. The car began moving steadily, having finally exited the mountainous region. Old Liu and Lin Song fell silent.
Staring at the pitch-black sky outside the window, Li Xingyuan suddenly felt an odd premonition. Unable to suppress it, he murmured, “It’s going to rain.”
Both Old Liu and Lin Song were taken aback. Old Liu tilted his head slightly, while Lin Song leaned over, concern evident in his questioning gaze. But Li Xingyuan couldn’t hear him clearly and merely shook his head. Whether or not Lin Song understood, he returned to the front passenger seat and resumed speaking with Old Liu.
Minutes later, rain began to fall from the heavens.
Please vote for this novel at
If you would like to support this translation, you may choose any one of the options below.
How to find a list of chapters
Please find the chapter label next to your favorite translator's name, and click the label.
