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

Yun Yi stopped.

The gray power of time receded from the crack and floated quietly in the palm of the hand, like a snake that had swum to its end and returned to the shore.

He paused for a moment, then raised his left hand.

The life principles he gleaned from the leaves of the World Tree lit up in his palm—he used them even more recklessly than before, because he no longer cared whether the world would be destroyed.

A pale golden light emerged, brighter, richer, and purer than before, like a small sun dancing in the palm of your hand.

The light surged toward the cracks, toward the deep void, toward those layers upon layers of false skin.

The first layer of skin was ignited like paper, turning into ashes and scattering away.

The light continued to penetrate deeper.

The second, third, and fourth layers—each layer was ignited, peeled off, and dissipated by pale golden flames.

Then on the fifth floor, the light stopped.

It found something.

It's not something real; it's a piece of "information" engraved inside the surface—extremely short, like a signature.

Yun Yi carefully examined the message, which contained only three words: "Don't ask."

After that, there was nothing left.

Even after the laws of life penetrated the fifth layer, it was still the same nothingness, the same emptiness, the same layers upon layers of skin.

Yun Yi withdrew the Law of Life.

He stood in the air, with frozen time beneath his feet, the authority of the Myriad Dao Lord behind him, and the rift in front of him from which the Starry Sky Races were still emerging.

"Don't ask"—those three words were like a thorn stuck in his brain.

He stopped thinking.

He reached out—not with the power of time, not with the laws of life, not in any way that required "reaching into the distance"—he simply grabbed at it casually, like taking something out of a pocket, and reached his hand into the depths of the crack.

He pulled a figure out from the depths.

The man was wearing a tattered exoskeleton armor, its surface riddled with bullet holes and burn marks, like an old garment that had been worn for far too long.

His face was covered in scars, and his left eye was fake, with a mechanical eyeball embedded in it, the pupil of which shone with a dark red light.

He looked to be about forty years old, but Yun Yi knew he was only eighteen—he had simply altered his appearance to look like that.

The moment he was grabbed, his facial expression changed rapidly: from "observing the battlefield" to "being pulled by something", then to "I feel like I've been grabbed by something", and finally settled on "I'm being grabbed by something".

He looked down at his chest—a long, slender, fair hand with distinct knuckles reached out from the void and gripped his breastplate.

Then he looked up following that hand and saw Yun Yi.

His expression froze instantly.

He greeted us somewhat stiffly:

"Hello there."

Yun Yi's voice was calm: "We meet again."

The man's expression shifted at least seven times in a fraction of a second—shock, bewilderment, incomprehension, confusion, recollection, recall, and finally, a bitter smile:

"...It's you."

Yun Yi did not let go.

He raised his other hand, and a wisp of gray time power condensed at his fingertips, wrapping around the person's body.

The man's pupils contracted sharply:

"you want--!"

He didn't finish speaking because the power of time had already entangled his sea of ​​consciousness, freezing all thoughts about "returning to the crystal".

He tried to activate the return crystal, but found that his consciousness was like a frozen lake, unable to even create a ripple.

"You..." His voice shifted from shock to panic, "How did you know I was going to—"

"Just a guess," Yun Yi said calmly. "If it were me, I would have run."

The man fell silent.

Yun Yi looked at him, waited a moment, and asked, "Which authority holder are you?"

"I...don't have a name."

"Then I'll call you Nuclear Bomb Bro."

"Could you please use a different form of address?"

"No." Yun Yi paused. "Do you have any useful information?"

The man opened his mouth, then closed it again.

After thinking for a moment, he said, "I really am."

"What, really?"

"I am the one with real authority."

"It's not fake, it's not fictional, it wasn't fabricated by the world."

"I am real."

Yun Yi didn't speak, he just looked at him.

The power of gray time still clung to him, its senses probing deep into his consciousness—unlike the previous being, this person's soul was real and complete, with a past, memories, and emotions.

But those memories also contained no truth about this dream world.

As for the memories of other worlds, he didn't investigate. Those were unimportant.

He wanted to know more about this world—why it was a dream, who created it, and where the real world was—but he knew nothing about it.

"Is that all you know?" Yun Yi asked.

"Not buddies," the man said calmly. "We're from the same batch."

"You're so much stronger than me, and you still can't find it. What's the point of asking me?"

Yun Yi was silent for a moment: "Then you're useless."

The man opened his mouth, as if to say something, but it was too late.

Yun Yi's fingers tightened slightly, and the gray power of time poured into his temples, instantly erasing his consciousness, soul, existence—everything—from the timeline.

The person's body began to become transparent, gradually merging into the air from the edges, like a piece of melting ice.

At the last moment, the frozen expression on his face was not fear or anger, but a sense of relief.

He disappeared.

No trace was left.

Yun Yi withdrew his hand, as if throwing away something he didn't want.

Then his gaze turned to the depths of the crack, and he reached out his hand again.

He pulled another figure out from the depths.

The man looked much younger than the previous one, probably in his early twenties, and wore a loose white robe without any patterns or decorations, like a sample just taken from a tailor shop.

There was no fear or surprise on his face, only a faint hint of amusement.

Yun Yi looked at him and remained silent for a moment:

"Are you the one with the privilege of just watching the show?"

"Hmm." The answer was flat.

Yun Yi waited a moment, and seeing that he didn't intend to continue, asked, "What do you know? The truth about the dream?"

"I don't know." The response remained calm.

Yun Yi frowned: "So you're not going to say anything?"

The man was silent for a moment: "Why should I tell you? If I tell you, you'll kill me; if I don't, you'll still kill me."

Yun Yi looked at him: "Is there any useful information? Even just a little bit?"

"About the real world, about the origin of dreams, about Wan Su Dao Jun—anything you know."

The man thought for a moment: "I know something."

"explain."

"I don't care."

His voice remained calm, "I don't care if this world is real, I don't care if those mortals are real, I don't care who created this dream."

"I only care whether it's fun and whether I can have a good time."

Yun Yi looked at him silently: "Then you're quite optimistic."

The man shook his head, smiled, and said nonchalantly, "I'm actually quite happy about being thrown into a different world by that damn amusement park and having to complete some kind of mission to return."

"Anyway, I've already explored most of my original world."

"Isn't it great to be able to go to other worlds and continue playing? It's best if you break them, but it's not a big deal if you don't."

Yun Yi listened, shook his head, and prepared to search the soul again.

But then the person suddenly spoke again.

It wasn't a plea for mercy, but rather a hint of curiosity: "Aren't you and I both Authority Holders? In other worlds, who isn't a demon from beyond? I don't understand why you care so much about this world."

"You clearly have that power—if you don't like it, just tear it down, right?"