PGVCW 49

 

Playing God in Various Catastrophic Worlds

Chapter 49: Flight Experiments and Background Analysis

"These energy signatures are extremely peculiar—unseen and intangible, yet undeniably existent. A mere vial of this stuff could potentially pack the destructive force of a bomb."

"However, 【illness】 fails to manifest or take effect on Blue Star. Whether this is due to interdimensional divergence remains unconfirmed, meaning we require additional empirical data and time for comprehensive analysis."

Having concluded his briefing regarding the 【black miasma】, the lead researcher stood before the floor-to-ceiling window, gazing perplexed at the black-haired maiden outside who was currently donning an oxygen mask and taking full advantage of the soaring ceiling height to zoom back and forth across the hall on her flying spirit sword.

"What on earth is Wang'an doing?"

Her superior, snacking on fruit while gazing outward, unashamedly treated the Savior's sword-flight drills as lunchtime entertainment.

"She wants to ascend into the upper firmament, but atmospheric thinness at high altitudes impairs regular respiration. Hence, she is currently experimenting with supplemental oxygen gear for high-altitude flight."

Indeed, Xia Wang'an's accumulated faith power remained insufficient; while her Foundation Establishment stage cultivation permitted considerable altitude, ascending all the way to the divine celestial realm proved beyond her current reach.

007 wisely refrained from blurting out, [Host, if you simply try, you'll find you can actually fly up there.] It was well aware that its host was operating strictly under the metaphysical constraints of an immortal cultivator framework; within those parameters, a Foundation Establishment practitioner was simply barred from covering arbitrary, god-tier distances. Reluctant to witness its host suffer cognitive dissonance or psychological fragmentation from violating core setting restrictions, 007 quietly stood by, observing her diverse oxygen-tank trials.

Acting upon a casual remark dropped by Wang'an as though it were a paramount national directive, the administrative recorders scurried into action, promptly delivering a full professional astronaut ensemble.

Indeed, the resource yield of the magical realm proved staggeringly bountiful. Within the territory claimed by Xia Wang'an, the automated mining units had fortuitously struck two rich mineral deposits upon minimal excavation. This windfall injected immense confidence into the technological divisions; coupled with the collaborative pooling of global scientific talent across nations, humanity resolved to boldly re-ignite its aerospace ambitions and aggressively advance the technological tech-tree. Moreover, since Wang'an asserted that anomalous phenomena existed in the upper skies, they were duty-bound to engineer equipment capable of scaling those altitudes to investigate whatever entity lingered above.

While the "child soldiers" of the action squads toiled in the field, the technical personnel stationed back on Blue Star refused to simply slack off. Consequently, Xia Wang'an soon found herself outfitted in a pristine, state-of-the-art space suit.

Xia Chun—now formally integrated into the background lore-writing unit under the pen name 【Mad Dazzling Sesame Rice Cake】—walked over to deliver documents, only to witness an individual encased in full aerospace gear zipping back and forth on a spirit sword. Beneath her flight path, a team of anxious logistics personnel scurried left and right across the floor, frantically dragging heavy safety crash-mats to match every maneuver. Someone shouted frantically through a megaphone, "Wang'an! The deep-sea diving oxygen cylinders you requested have arrived, along with a complete diving suit!"

Thus, shortly thereafter, Xia Wang'an traded her aerospace attire for heavy deep-sea diving gear, complete with an oversized oxygen tank strapped securely to her back, continuing her high-speed aerial sword patrols.

Her published web novel plots simply lacked this level of sheer absurdity.

The List of Names and the Truth of the World

Aside from these flight experiments, Xia Wang'an dedicated the remainder of her first day back to rest. While self-cultivation remained deeply rewarding, accumulating power rapidly through the collection of faith energy was equally appealing.

Munching contentedly on a fresh peach, Xia Wang'an strolled unhindered into the World Background Analysis Division. Holding absolute security clearance granting access to every corner of headquarters, she settled down to review newly synthesized intelligence profiles concerning the magical realm:

【The Maca Continent constitutes merely one single landmass within World 02; inter-continental expanses span distances equivalent to at least five Pacific Oceans. Current reconnaissance drones have charted seven distinct landmasses, though the existence of uncharted continents remains entirely plausible.】

【It is worth noting that while the human populations across these landmasses diverge in language and cultural paradigms, they universally worship a singular focal deity: the God of Light.】

【Historical records exhibit striking uniformity: the God of Light is revered as the sole supreme divinity of existence, framing all sentient races as His cherished children dwelling within an idyllic celestial kingdom flanked by angelic hosts. The deity extends infinite mercy toward mortals, descending in times of cataclysm to soothe worldly suffering.】

Xia Wang'an's fingertips brushed lightly across the illuminated text.

【No historical texts record the personal name of this deity, yet indigenous populations across all continents harbor unshakeable conviction that fervent prayer offered during moments of peril will summon divine protection.】

【Despite the total geographical isolation separating these seven continents, their theological myths are identical. While the objective existence of genuine divinities cannot be discounted, the catastrophic plague that descended three hundred years ago transpired entirely without divine intervention or the descent of the God of Light.】

【Additional Note: Strong empirical suspicion indicates that the systemic plagues afflicting this world are engineered artifacts generated by contaminated entities, as instrumentation has detected residual energy signatures matching known contamination vectors.】

Abruptly, she unpinned her hair ornament. Her 2.8-meter-long great blade materialized instantly, and Xia Wang'an inspected it inch by inch.

A researcher laboring nearby heard the distinct metallic hum, lifted his head, and observed the black-haired maiden lounging leisurely upon a desk while scrutinizing her weapon. She rarely occupied standard low-slung seating, preferring expansive, unconstrained desktop surfaces—an eccentric posture that gave her the effortless aura of a streetwise delinquent from a peacetime era.

Naturally, the researchers held no such derogatory impressions. To them, every single action executed by Xia Wang'an possessed profound, infallible logic.

"Wang'an, is something amiss?" inquired a senior researcher with an affectionate, gentle smile.

Clutching her blade, Xia Wang'an replied, "I suddenly felt like inspecting my sword."

She sat in tranquil silence, her gaze lowered to the steel surface as though reading an ancient tome. As she inspected it, her lips murmured a succession of obscure names: "Black War-Point, Toast, Ugly-Mug, Death-Seeker Number One, Death-Seeker Number Two..."

Initially, onlookers assumed she was merely engaging in whimsical play. However, when Xia Wang'an continued reciting the names through meals, before sleep, and bookending every cultivation session, the personal recorder assigned to her side grew visibly alarmed, having already cataloged over ten thousand bizarre appellations.

Zheng Shanhe grew deeply concerned regarding her psychological equilibrium. "Doctor, she keeps chanting names directly to her sword—could structural contamination be compromising her cognitive faculties?" he whispered urgently, adding, "Furthermore, Wang'an never once utters our names." Not even her closest companions had been granted this peculiar distinction.

Summoned urgently for a psychological evaluation, the attending physician clarified: "...She is reciting the names of individuals who perished beneath her blade."

Everyone present was well aware that Xia Wang'an suffered from severe memory fragmentation. Her sole mechanism for attempting to reconstruct her past involved retrieving the very first person slain by her weapon and reciting subsequent names sequentially down the chronological ledger.

Zheng Shanhe: "......" The companions: "......"

Lin Ke alone remained profoundly awestruck, his eyes rounding into perfect circles of unadulterated admiration and shock: "Wang'an, you are so immensely powerful."

Xia Wang'an gracefully accepted her companion's reverence, though she abruptly halted her recitation upon reaching the one-hundred-thousandth name.

Yuan Ning slid a miniature pastry toward the quiet maiden, who had returned to peacefully perusing a novel: "Wang'an, have you finished your recitation?" "Not quite," Xia Wang'an mumbled around a mouthful of pastry, biting off half in a single motion. "I simply cannot recall who the one-hundred-thousandth person was."

007 remained deathly silent. It had genuinely convinced itself that its previous diversionary tactics had successfully glossed over the gap, yet reality demonstrated that while its host's memory was flawed, she was far from intellectually deficient. This truth was underscored by the conspicuous fact that Xia Wang'an had never once pressed the system to verify the true identity of that milestone figure.

007 felt a quiet pang of guilty conscience. That evening, it piped up softly: [Host, it is time for rest.]

The Caged God and the Traitors

Lying beneath her covers, Xia Wang'an felt thoroughly content, having spent another joyous day at the newly upgraded amusement park alongside her friends. Ever since the administrative staff recognized her fondness for recreational spaces, successive expansions had rendered the park vastly more entertaining with each visit. Online forums were already abuzz with speculative fan theories suggesting that the repeated temporary closures of the facility were deliberate measures orchestrated solely to accommodate the Savior's leisure.

At sixteen years of age, she was in the prime bracket for recreation. Well-fed and secure, citizens across the nation practically operated as spiritual stakeholders in the amusement park, enthusiastically brainstorming novel attraction concepts online to curate an endless stream of delightful experiences for her.

Having thoroughly enjoyed her outing, Xia Wang'an felt warmed by the collective effort invested in bringing her joy.

[007, I won't bother tracking down who the one-hundred-thousandth person was.] Just as 007 braced itself for a night of nervous agitation following its bedtime prompt, Xia Wang'an unexpectedly replied. [I know that whatever 007 does, its sole intention is simply to make me happy.]

She clutched her small blanket tightly: [007, goodnight.] 007 fell silent for a single beat before its tone bounced back into cheerful vitality: [Host, goodnight.] [Hn-mim, zzz...] 007 promptly resumed its gentle snoring simulation. Lulled by its digital purr, Xia Wang'an drifted into a deep, dreamless slumber.

Far away, within the magical realm:

Deep within the ruined celestial architecture, A32 unfurled its barbed, fang-studded tentacles, driving them ruthlessly into the spinal column of a fallen entity. This was a mighty archangel spanning thirty meters in length, boasting thirty-six majestic wings that extended across a span of a hundred meters. Though deceased, her colossal wings remained unfurled, shielding the sacrificial altar in a final posture of eternal guardianship.

The tentacles sank deep into the divine skeleton, greedily draining the residual godhead energy housed within. This pristine, sanctified divine essence was systematically converted by A32 into torrents of billowing black miasma. An entity that had fought to her dying breath to safeguard the mortal realm was now being defiled, her divine power weaponized to ravage the very world she had sworn to protect.

"Hurry it up," A32 snapped at its subordinates, betraying an underlying jitteriness as though a monstrous predator might lunge out of the shadows at any second. "Do not provoke the Master."

A trailing subordinate dismissed the warning with an arrogant smirk: "What is there to fear? Even if He detects our presence, He cannot move an inch."

Tracing their gaze along massive anchoring chains, they looked upward toward the supreme throne elevated at the apex of the chamber. A cloaked figure seated upon it wore a reckless, unbridled grin: "Only because He remains pinned in suppression here does the dead qi fail to devour this world completely. If He were to break free, this realm would instantly collapse into total annihilation." "He doesn't even dare twitch; a single movement would accelerate the spread of the corruption."

A malicious white-robed operative stepped forward on a whim and delivered a vicious kick directly against one of the anchoring chains. A faint, suppressed groan of agony echoed from within the brilliant halo of light shielding the throne. Yet despite the torture, the seated figure did not shift so much as a fraction of an inch.

The white-robed intruder cackled maniacally: "Presently, He is nothing more than a leashed hound restrained by a collar. Am I wrong?" He mocked aloud, "O God of Light."

The majestic silhouette enthroned above remained entirely motionless. Mighty though the deity undoubtedly was, He remained shackled to the celestial seat, completely unresponsive to their blatant provocations.

A32 frowned sharply: "B06, cease these extraneous games. The God of Light remains a primordial divinity of this universe; should You truly be incensed, none of us will escape with our lives." It despised its newest recruit's reckless insubordination, viewing the operative as a fool courting suicide. "Had we not laid elaborate traps to bind Him down using the world's impending destruction as leverage, do you genuinely believe we could stand here unscathed?" Stripped of euphemisms, measured by raw potency, the God of Light could effortlessly crush them to dust. The sole reason for His imprisonment lay not in a lack of power, but in the agonizing reality that His divine physical vessel served as the final bulwark shielding the mortal realm from utter collapse. A32 harbored zero doubt that if pushed past breaking point, the deity would willingly unleash apocalyptic counter-strikes regardless of world-destruction risks, obliterating their entire squad into oblivion. B06's behavior resembled a tightrope walk across a volcano's rim, threatening to drag everyone down into mutual destruction.

B06 shrugged indifferently: "Very well, you are Squad Leader A; you call the shots." "Reinforce the seals around this perimeter. Prevent Him from harvesting any ambient faith power; once our campaign here concludes, His residual divinity will still prove useful."

Beneath the desecrated remains of the divine kingdom, a dense lattice of black blood-vessels had woven themselves into an enormous, suffocating web. This network intercepted all ascending currents of faith prayer from below, starving the God of Light into progressive, agonizing enfeeblement.

As A32 stepped away to reinforce the anchoring mechanics beneath the throne platform, B06 slyly stepped forward, volunteering for the task: "Allow me. I'll inspect what this so-called God of Light actually looks like up close."

A32 frowned once more, but observing that the subordinate had initiated manual labor, it suppressed its dissatisfaction and returned to draining the archangel's divine blood. Though the recruit was an idiot, its operational productivity remained satisfactory.

B06 applied reinforcement clamps to the miasma-choked chains, keeping his head lowered as though absorbed in meticulous craftsmanship. Yet concealed within his palm, a glass vial materialized abruptly. Shielding his movements from the gaze of his peers, he flicked the vial upward, propelling it directly into the radiant halo surrounding the deity.

The glass shattered instantly upon contact with the condensed divine field, releasing a wisp of pure, unblemished faith energy that drifted straight into the deity's physical frame.

Having received a minute influx of faith power for the first time in three agonizing centuries, the divine figure shifted marginally, lifting weary, heavily lidded eyes to fixate upon the operative.

In response, a single immaculate white feather suffused with divine radiance detached itself from the luminous halo, plunging downward through the swirling banks of mist to depart the celestial domain entirely.

The divine form settled back into absolute stillness, closing His eyes as though relapsing into a deep slumber.

"B06, have you completed the reinforcement?"

Witnessing the subtle exchange, B06 whipped around with a theatrical, unhinged grin plastered across his features, acting entirely innocent:

"All done! Guaranteed to lock Him down tight—oh wait, He already has wings, haha!"

"B06, you hold status as a divine emissary now; refrain from indulging in pedestrian mortal humor."

"You know how it is, Squad Leader A—I originated from a wretched, primitive antiquity realm; forbidding me from cracking jokes is simply too dreary."

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