I'll kill you after I finish this game!

Modora wandered through the chaos of death, his throat vanished, and his hands, feet, bones, flesh, and internal organs all disappeared.

The soul also collapsed, leaving only a tiny bit of consciousness.

At this moment, everything is nothingness; memory and will are being eroded by the pervasive void.

The end of life, the end of the Night Journey of Mataro, is a time when there will be no afterlife.

He will fall to the bottom of a cliff from which there is no turning back and no crossing, to meet his end.

Is this a deeper level of death?

As Modoro's last remaining consciousness lingered, he couldn't help but think this way, and inwardly he couldn't help but mock himself for overestimating his abilities, for ending up in such a ridiculous state.

Everything was discovered, and before he could even resist, he died in a daze, still falling...

"————!?"

Suddenly, a clear flash of insight appeared in my hazy consciousness.

Night Walker wondered, if he was already dead, why could he still feel himself falling?

He is indeed dead; that is indisputable, absolute, and definitive.

The divine body was disintegrated, the soul was shattered, the will was dissolved, and everything was easily defeated.

The seeker of truth, Matala the Night, has passed away.

So... what is this kind of thinking at this moment?

Can the dead still be aware of their state after death?

It's a contradiction, a complete contradiction... Even after I was destroyed, it seems... I still exist.

Having lost all five senses, and even the sixth sense cannot perceive the facts, this hell of numbness is eternal. Matara Night Walker must have died a shameful and ridiculous death, like a clown, dying a disgraceful death.

"———▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅———"

Suddenly, Modoro Nightwalker seemed to hear a whispering sound like gibberish, a very distorted and indistinct sound, which began to approach from afar.

My consciousness, like a rootless duckweed, was subjected to a constant barrage of attacks.

That's why Modoro sensed something was amiss during his nighttime journey.

I also noticed... that I seemed to be being looked at, or rather, gazed at, by something.

"【▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓ (Ahhh~~, how did this thing get here? It felt like I was bitten by a mosquito.)】"

What are you saying? What is He saying?

In that instant, in that moment, upon hearing this indescribable sound of unknown meaning and significance, Motara Night Walk felt an unprecedented sense of peace.

Why? Why? Why? Why?!

Right now... it's terrifying! It's horrible! It's awful... but why do I have this strange feeling, like a runaway child has finally come home?

There are many questions that need answers and many things that need to be done, but because he has lost his body and soul, the Night Walker of Matara is in a contradictory state of panic and peace, and can do nothing.

"【▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓ (What is that simp Karl doing? Can't he even guard his seat properly? This thing is broken.)】"

Hiss hiss hiss hiss hiss hiss hiss hiss ————— Splash splash splash splash splash——————

The distorted, alien-like sounds were neither comprehensible nor understandable to Modoro Nightwalker.

But the sound that followed was like the sound of a snake flicking its tongue, no, it was also like the sound of a snake wriggling and crawling.

At the same time, they also heard the sound of the ocean current that they had noticed earlier.

Besides these, there were three beams of light—no, that's not right, they should be three beams of light.

From a distant, vast otherworld, a gaze as wide as a child crouching down to look at an anthill was watching him, watching Matara's Night Journey fall to the other side of death.

This feeling, or rather intuition, made Nightwalker aware of the absurd difference in their social standing.

Therefore, he could only sense that even if he went to see it, the result would be nothing but confusion.

All the viewers could see was emptiness and hear a cacophony of distorted, sharp, and indistinct sounds; they could perceive nothing else.

However... they could also personally experience the panic associated with traveling at night.

Because it is unknown, we do not understand; because we do not understand, we are afraid.

True Self, Shameless, Star, Mercury, Twilight, Moment, Gold, Wheel of Reincarnation, Black Heaven, Crimson... Foolish and ignorant, even if these divine titles were added together, they would not be comparable, they are neither qualified nor possible.

It's too huge, too enormous to be seen or sensed. Only when the other party focuses their attention on it can one trace back the connection and observe a small part of it.

In this situation, Modoro's rationality and will should have collapsed, he should have gone mad.

After all, the other party was of an incomprehensibly large level, so even if the indistinct voices were incomprehensible, they should have been easily torn apart by the terrifying power within the language.

The doubts and thoughts that Modoro had about why he hadn't died or collapsed during his nighttime journey were fulfilled in the next instant.

"boom------!"

Suddenly, the unseen and unfelt night walk was abruptly cleared of the haze from my consciousness, and at the same time, my five senses were restored.

Even one's own consciousness seemed to be wrapped in a layer of resilient soul, like mud.

This sudden, rude action, like a child molding clay, allows the Night Walker to comprehend those vague and distorted sounds.

Hmm... It was forced, even the restoration of the soul was forced, disregarding the will of the Nightwalker's consciousness.

The brutal methods of restoration, coupled with the return of the soul's senses capable of perceiving pain, and all these coercive actions, brought Modora Night Walk a baptism of pain that he could not have imagined in his past or present life.

"Gaa ...

A torrent of information, enough to make one want to vomit blood, roams the soul of the Night Walker of Matara.

It was like the Big Bang exploding inside a person's body; the massive flow drove people into a frenzy and madness.

The incomprehensible array of words, sounds, and information, accompanied by unimaginable and incomprehensible quality, ravages, assaults, and intensifies the core and extremities of Modoro's Night Journey.

Completely disregarding whether Modoro Nightwalker could withstand the situation and condition, he was like an ant in a child's hand, forcibly dismantled and pieced together his body, piecing together everything about the individual existence called Modoro Nightwalker.

"Oh oh ah ah... Ugh ah ah ah ah————!"

After the soul could previously emit sharp and shrill screams, with the addition of a body and a throat to produce sound, the screams of Matara Night Walk became increasingly intense and chaotic.

"【@＃＃＆￥@▓▓▓▓＆￥@＆*＆@*▓＆*＆*￥@▓▓＃＆￥@（You're really naughty, daring to wander into any place!）】"

Whether Modoro Nightwalker had gone mad, collapsed, or become completely stupid, he could actually hear helplessness and doting in that indescribable, distorted voice.

This thing is beyond the reach of any divinity, demonic nature, holiness, evil... Hearing it is like tearing your own ears apart; seeing it makes you want to gouge out your eyes; once your brain understands it, you want to smash it.

How wonderful it would be to be able to cleanse your brain by opening your skull and smashing it open.

Only now do I realize that there are incomprehensible fears and terrors in this world.

Whether the pressure is negative or positive, it comes to me almost endlessly, and I can't resist it.

This fact comes after we have distinguished ourselves from the other party.

In other words... once the self is separated from the other, one can no longer bear the other.

The sense of security I felt before seemed to be because I felt like I was part of the other person, so I naturally didn't feel threatened.

The Night Journey of Mataro and this incomprehensible existence are like the umbilical cord connecting an infant to its mother being cut.

At this very moment, the Night Journey of Matara is being reshaped and re-established as a previously independent entity, the Taiji of the Path of Seeking the Way, Yama Yama Heaven.

Stop! Wait a minute! Who are you? What are you?!

Modoro tried to roar, but the sound he made was even weaker than that of an amoeba.

That incomprehensible entity continues to fabricate its own existence called Nightwalker.

P.S.: Please vote and recommend!

Chapter Forty-Nine: The Sea of ​​the World, leaving countless viewers dumbfounded.

He felt a little regretful for his recklessness and arrogance. At this moment, Modora did not know whether he was blessed or cursed.

Because I felt neither malice nor goodwill.

Although he was in great pain at this moment, it did not change the fact that he was coming back to life.

He desperately wanted to ask the being who had so easily reshaped his soul and body, "Who exactly are you?"

But... my words are powerless, they have no power at all.

His self-proclaimed Tai Chi power is meaningless here; he is no different from an ordinary person.

However, at this moment, even though they don't know who the other party is, they can find clues after calming down a bit.

First, there was the contradictory feeling of loneliness and peace that had previously left him with only consciousness. Then, he felt no fear in the face of this enormous, inaudible, and invisible existence.

Even if there is fear, it is not directed at the other person.

Why did Matara travel here at night?

That's right, it's to find the truth about my origins.

So, is the answer here...?

Sizzle—!

"Whoa who ...

Finally, the third eye on the forehead, also known as the Heavenly Eye, was branded onto it by the other party and reshaped for Matara Night Walk.

Only at this moment did Modoro's Night Journey fully regain his vision, and then he felt himself falling, breaking free from that blurry, primordial chaos.

But he ignored all of that. Covered in cold sweat, he gasped for breath, his eyes and third eye carefully scanning the surrounding scenery.

He wanted to find that existence, and he wanted to try his best to observe that existence.

However, the sight that Modora saw upon regaining his sight caused his expression to change drastically, and his body trembled and stiffened.

"......"

Walking at night, I couldn't understand what this was. What was this scene before me? Why was there such an unimaginable sight?

Not only the Night Journey of Motolo, but also the countless viewers who were able to see the clear scene again after the video was restored, were all frozen in shock, their eyes filled with horror.

What lay before them was no longer a hazy, primordial chaos, but a mysterious and supreme realm of endless possibilities and boundless expanse.

"Splash splash splash splash!"