"Old bastard Demon Leng Ji Yuan, surrender! You can't escape. We've surrounded the plains. Your end is here!"
"You used me as a tool! You killed my entire family! Now I will watch you die!"
The shouts swirled around him, a chorus of anger, pain, and rage. But Leng Ji Yuan stood motionless, a statue of calm in the storm, his face an impassive mask.
The earth was a carpet of the dead, thousands strong. A river of blood cut through the grotesque landscape of torn bodies and spilled entrails. Leng Ji Yuan's robes, soaked in crimson, flapped in the wind like a torn battle flag. Yet in his eyes, there was no fear. Only emptiness.
"Hand over the gun, Thunglung Dungma! There's no escape! The building is surrounded! The plains are surrounded!"
The police officer's voice cracked sharply across the rooftop. "Your crime is patricide!" His eyes were cold, reflecting the harsh sunlight.
Thunglung Dungma did not flinch. His gaze burned with defiance, his breath unsteady with fury and grief. "This wasn't a crime," he said, his voice shaking. "That man was my hell. Killing him was justice."
He stepped closer to the edge, wind tearing at his clothes like desperate hands. "If you won't believe me," he whispered, his strength collapsing into something final, "if no one will stand with me, then I end it. Now."
The city seemed to hold its breath. Only the wind answered.
Thunglung Dungma leapt.
He fell in silence, his eyes holding not fear, but a fierce, burning anger. His final vow echoed only in his own mind as the ground rushed up to meet him.
The officers below watched, frozen, as he plummeted. He closed his eyes and accepted the end with a strange calm, his falling body a dark mark against the sky.
Leng Ji Yuan slowly turned, his voice low and distant as it drifted across the battlefield."The blue sky rises even above the highest peaks."
A faint ray of light touched his face. His hair was white like ancient snow, carrying the weight of countless years. His eyes were endless voids, deep and unreadable.
Before him stretched the world he had created: corpses, blood-soaked earth, endless death. His hands were stained with the weight of every life he had taken.
"But today, the sky is covered in black clouds. Even the highest mountain is swallowed by shadow."He spoke as if only the dead could hear him.
"A lone traveler walks the demonic path and looks back… and sees a thousand corpses. A river of blood."He was that traveler. Burdened. Stained. Still walking forward.
"I will drown on this road," he murmured to the fading light, "but I have no regrets for the demonic path I have walked."
He turned.
Before him stood a crowd of warriors, veterans in their prime and young fighters with trembling courage. Without realizing it, many of them stepped back.
One of them shouted, trying to sound brave, "Demon! This is your end! Heaven itself has written your death! Hand over the Rana, and we will make your death painless!"
"Death? By your hands?" Leng Ji Yuan's voice was so calm it felt terrifying. A faint, cruel smile touched his lips. "Even if I die, I will laugh at death and the heavens."
He laughed.
It was a hollow sound, empty and cold. The laughter spread across the battlefield like winter frost. He laughed again, louder, and the sound made hearts tremble.
"Weapons ready!" someone shouted. "Why do you laugh, demon? Heaven has already decided your fate!"
Leng Ji Yuan's eyes gleamed darkly. "How ridiculous," he said softly. "You speak as if death could touch me."
Slowly, deliberately, he raised the sacred and forbidden Rana to his lips and swallowed it.
"Now," he whispered, yet everyone heard him clearly. "How will you take it from me? It is already inside me."
Shock and rage exploded among the soldiers.
"Monster! Kill him!"They charged.
Leng Ji Yuan did not move. He simply watched them come.When the first blade pierced his body, a faint smile appeared on his lips.
Now.
In the next heartbeat, a sun was born from his chest.
Blinding white light burst outward, swallowing the battlefield in fire, blood, and shattered earth. Screams vanished in the roar of destruction.
As his body dissolved into the blazing core of the explosion, Leng Ji Yuan's final thought was calm and cold.
If death is unavoidable, why should I die alone? Let the world burn with me.
The light faded.
Silence remained. Nothing moved. Nothing lived. Only scorched land and the empty echo of a man who chose destruction over surrender.
A flash of light tore through another darkness, and within it stood a figure. It had no clear face, more shadow than form, yet it was smiling.Thunglung Dungma stared at it, frozen in confusion and fear.
Then it disappeared.And he was somewhere else.
Where am I?
The thought struck him with sudden panic. He was inside a house, in a quiet room. A dull pain throbbed at the back of his head.
Then it happened.
Memories that did not belong to him flooded his mind. They were Leng Ji Yuan's memories — cold decisions, ruthless strategies, emotionless resolve. His own mind struggled, then slowly adjusted, reshaping itself around this foreign will.
His eyes changed.They now carried the same deep, endless darkness as the demon.
For ten full minutes, he sat without moving, learning the rhythm of a body that was not originally his.Finally, a terrifying thought formed.
Whose body is this?Understanding came like ice.
This body had once belonged to Leng Ji Yuan. That life had already ended. It was a past existence. An empty shell.
Why am I here? Who sent me?
He pressed a hand against his chest. Deep inside, he felt it — the remnant of a single, powerful obsession.
Eternal life.
The original owner had failed to achieve it.Thunglung Dungma's new resolve hardened like stone.
If Leng Ji Yuan could not reach immortality, then he would.He would claim the eternity that had been denied.
And he would find the smiling shadow that threw him into this world.And he would get his answers.