He has been reincarnated through countless worlds, adorned with billions of mythological terms!

He opened his arms as if embracing something unseen.

Then the smile suddenly vanished.

Because he saw Yun Yi's eyes.

Those eyes have changed.

The eyes don't look like those of a six-year-old.

There was something heavy and profound in those eyes, like some ancient, dormant power awakening.

"Since you got to know me through watching movies..."

Yun Yi's voice was very calm.

He spoke as calmly as if he were speaking to a dying person.

"Then they should also know that Xi Sheng Yuan Tong is in charge of dawn, life, purification, and protection, and cannot bear to see the people suffer."

"Especially those who don't treat their parents like human beings."

"They use parental love to brainwash people, conduct cruel genetic mutations and experiments, and turn living people into disposable weapons."

"You're not just trying to kill me."

"You are trampling on everything."

He took a step forward.

step.

It was just a small step.

But the moment he took that step, his loungewear disappeared.

Instead, she wore a short, moon-white divine robe, with patterns of newly sprouting buds embroidered on the hem, radiating a faint, warm golden glow in the night.

His hair was changing—from ordinary black short hair, inch by inch, it faded to platinum blonde, falling softly and fluffy over his forehead, like waves of wheat washed by the morning light.

His eyes are changing too.

Those clear black eyes, under the dim light, were gradually turning into a clear, shimmering amber color.

Golden light shone from the depths of his pupils, like the first ray of sunlight on the horizon at dawn.

His skin is changing too.

A faint, warm golden halo emanated from within the body, enveloping it in a soft glow.

That was not light, not a reflection, but a pure, divine light emanating from the depths of one's very being.

barefoot.

Platinum blonde short hair.

Gilded amber eyes.

A moon-white robe trimmed with gold.

The soft, warm golden morning light.

Xi Sheng Yuan Tong.

The barefoot child standing in the morning light in the movie is now standing in the garden at night, in front of nine hunters and countless ordinary people who have been transformed into weapons.

There were no special effects, no makeup, and it wasn't acting.

Rather, they are real, living gods who descended to earth.

The night breeze suddenly stopped.

The air freezes.

The pupils of all nine people contracted to their maximum size at that instant, becoming as thin as needle tips.

Breathing stopped, heartbeats stopped, and blood seemed to stop flowing.

Behind the flowerbeds, in the shadows of the garage, at the foot of the wall, the ordinary people who had been transformed looked up blankly, their chaotic eyes reflecting that warm golden light.

The moon-white divine robes fluttered gently in the night.

Barefoot on the cobblestone ground, my toes sank slightly into the gravel, yet there was no sign of discomfort.

Her platinum blonde, tousled hair was lifted by a very faint halo, as if each strand of hair had come to life, swaying gently in the night breeze.

Those gilded pupils looked ahead—not down, not with disdain.

Rather, it is a kind of...

Compassion.

It was a gaze that transcended anger, hatred, and all personal emotions.

It's like standing on the river of time, watching ants struggling in the water, wanting to reach out and scoop them up, but knowing that some ants are destined to be swept away.

That look in her eyes is indescribable, beyond description, and impossible to act out.

Because no matter how realistic the eyes are when they are acted out, there is always a trace of deliberate "performance"—a trace of "I'm acting for you".

But there was no deliberate intent in Yun Yi's eyes.

It was a gaze that overflowed from the depths of the soul, an instinctive, unadorned gaze.

Of the nine hunters, at least five involuntarily took a step back at that moment.

It's the instinct of fear.

The leader of the hunters did not retreat.

But he remembered what Yun Yi had said—"You will die."

At the time, he thought it was intimidation, a bluff, and that an immature authority figure was putting on a brave face and trying to scare them away.

But now he realizes that he misunderstood from the very beginning.

That might not be a threat.

That might just be stating a fact.

It's like someone telling an ant, "You're in my way"—not as a threat, but simply as a statement of a physical fact.

He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but his throat felt like it was blocked by something, and he couldn't make a sound.

Yun Yi made a move.

He didn't look at the hunters; his gaze passed over them and landed on the group of ordinary people who had been transformed.

Those men, those women, those ordinary people in pajamas, slippers, and wrinkled shirts.

They stood there, their eyes vacant, their bodies contorted, veins bulging, and bones deformed.

They didn't know where they were, what they were doing, or even what they had become.

Yun Yi raised his hand.

Palms facing up, fingers slightly spread.

A warm, golden light shone from my palm—not the kind that is dazzling, scorching, or as bright as the sun, but a soft, gentle light, like the first rays of sunlight on a spring morning shining through the mist on my face.

The light rose from the palm of his hand, slowly spreading outwards like ripples.

Where the light touched, the air became moist, and the dew on the grass blades refracted tiny specks of light.

The hunters instinctively tensed up, anticipating some kind of devastating attack.

But nothing happened—the light didn't even deliberately bypass them, it just flowed past them like a warm stream winding around the stones and flowing to a more distant place.

It flows to the ordinary people who are being transformed.

The moment the light touched them, all the distortions began to fade away simultaneously.

The unnatural bluish lines on my arms faded away layer by layer, like ink dripping into clear water; my shoulder blades made a faint clicking sound, as the bones were realigning, the muscles were relaxing, and the blood vessels were repairing.

Those twisted elbows, spasming fingers, misaligned spines—all the body parts that had become mad and deformed under the influence of the gene-editing drug—simultaneously returned to a normal, healthy, and human state in the warm golden light.

In just three to five seconds.

Everything returned to calm.

The first to react was the middle-aged man in the plaid shirt—the construction worker.

He blinked, as if waking from a long nightmare, looked down at his arm that had fully recovered, and then looked up at his surroundings: dim streetlights, an unfamiliar garden, nine menacing-looking people, and a child whose whole body was glowing.

"Where...am I?"

His voice was hoarse and filled with confusion.

He looked at his hands over and over, his pupils dilating slightly, his lips trembling twice, and then—

"ah--!"

With a short scream, his legs went weak and he collapsed to the ground.

An elderly woman in floral pajamas followed closely behind.

She looked down at her right arm, which had been twisted like a chicken claw—now it had returned to its normal shape, and her fingers had softly unfolded.

She slowly raised her head, her cloudy eyes looking at Yun Yi, at the child who was glowing, at his golden pupils, and at his moon-white divine robe.

"……immortal?"