Chapter 277: Chapter 275: The Vanishing Fish
Mo Ling sat at the table in a daze, staring at the Great Clan Leader slumped over on the tabletop.
The man he had just been chatting with had vanished in the blink of an eye, without a trace.
’Did they really go back?’
Mo Ling pulled the ancient Fishman tome out from under the Great Clan Leader’s arm and slid it in front of him.
The Fishman script on it hadn’t changed. A Little Fish swam back and forth, weaving between the characters, as vivid and lifelike as ever.
He still couldn’t believe the Fishmen had vanished so easily.
"What are you looking for?"
A voice suddenly spoke from behind Mo Ling.
’Bai Zhou!’
Mo Ling spun around, but he still couldn’t see where he was.
Just like outside the library, he could hear the voice but couldn’t see a soul.
"Where are you?" With the Fishmen gone, Mo Ling no longer felt the need to be cautious and asked the question directly.
"Right here." A short Black Shadow suddenly jumped onto the table.
It was a small, root-carved figurine. Its entire body was entwined with roots, and its arms were crossed.
After jumping onto the table, the figurine bent down to cushion the landing before straightening up and looking at Mo Ling.
"Long time no see."
Mo Ling stared at him in shock, not replying.
Seemingly sensing Mo Ling’s confusion, the root-carved figurine glanced down at its own body.
"I put my soul in here. This relic is pretty useful..."
Mo Ling asked in surprise, "It can be used like this?"
"Of course." The little figurine nodded.
"Why are you staying in there?" Mo Ling asked, completely baffled.
"To keep myself from falling asleep," the figurine explained. "I have important things to do, so I can’t drift off. I have to hide, and I can hide here for a very long time."
The figurine again looked at the ancient Fishman tome in Mo Ling’s hands. "What are you looking for?"
"The Fishmen. Did they really go back?" Mo Ling asked, pointing at the script in the tome.
Hearing Mo Ling’s question, the little figurine shook its head.
"How could they go back? Traveling between worlds isn’t that simple. They came to reality through a dream, so they’d need a medium to return. Deleting their accounts means permanent death."
"Then why did they have me delete all their accounts?"
"Try to control the components now, and you’ll see," the figurine replied.
’Control the components?’
Hearing the figurine’s words, Mo Ling immediately tried to control the components.
Sure enough, he quickly noticed something was wrong.
The Fishman system was now reacting very slowly. Operations were sluggish, the latency was extremely high, and it would stutter and lag from time to time.
Not only that, but the stuttering was getting progressively worse, and some functions could no longer be opened at all.
"What’s going on?" Mo Ling asked hastily.
The figurine spread its hands. "Because the ’group’ authority has vanished. You’re not a creature of text, so you can’t use those authorities, nor can you manage things through the ’group’ system. That’s why this is happening."
"The ’group’ is gone?"
"Yes. Once all the accounts are deleted, the group is gone, isn’t it?"
Hearing this, it all clicked for Mo Ling.
"So they just did it to stop me from using the authorities?"
"Yes."
"So everything Jeff just said... was that all a lie to trick me?" Mo Ling asked in disbelief.
The figurine thought for a moment, then shook its head. "Most of it was true. Half-truth, half-lie. You know what the ultimate authority means to the Fishmen. They would never let it fall into the hands of an outsider."
"The Fishmen are a race that exists for the pursuit of ’absolute freedom.’ If the ultimate authority were in someone else’s hands, their entire race would be eternally subservient to another. That is something they could never accept."
"But don’t I still have the authorities?" Mo Ling was still confused.
’Although the ’group’ authority vanished when the accounts were deleted, the other authorities are still there. Even though I can’t use them right now, isn’t there some other way to call upon them?’
However, a simple counter-question from the figurine instantly dispelled Mo Ling’s confusion.
"Are you a fish?"
Mo Ling froze.
He silently gazed at the Little Fish in the script of the ancient tome.
"The reason you could control those authorities before was because the Fishmen were still present. Only when there are ’fish’ can the authorities be triggered. Now that the ’fish’ are gone, the authorities will vanish completely."
’So that’s how it was.’
After understanding all this, Mo Ling wasn’t particularly dismayed.
The ultimate authority was something he’d just stumbled upon anyway. If it was gone, it was gone. He only felt it was a shame about the Fishmen.
In Mo Ling’s view, the Fishmen could have found a better way to resolve their race’s crisis. But since they chose the path of invasion, it was inevitable they would suffer the consequences one day.
They had grown accustomed to conquest in their world of text, a racial trait that carried over into reality; they were just as merciless toward the other races in the Abyss.
Even when facing their own race’s extinction, they placed "freedom" above "life" and chose to end themselves.
Such a race made Mo Ling feel not only a sense of pity but also a lingering fear.
’As the Fishman script becomes more and more widespread, couldn’t the Fishmen truly make a comeback? Couldn’t they charge out from the world of text once more, in an even more powerful form, to try and conquer this boundless world?’
Mo Ling looked at the script in the ancient Fishman tome, his heart twisting in conflict once more.
But just then, the little figurine walked over to the tome, bent down, and closed it, interrupting Mo Ling’s train of thought.
"You’d better take that armor off, and quickly. It’s going to lock up in a minute," the figurine said, pointing at the armor on Mo Ling.
Only then did Mo Ling realize that the armor on his body had, without his noticing, grown heavier and heavier. His movements had started to become sluggish, and he could hear the sound of components grinding in the joints.
’Looks like with the authorities gone, this suit of armor is slowly turning into a piece of junk.’
So, he quickly stood up and began to shed the armor from head to toe, piece by piece, revealing his smooth metal head once more.
Looking at his newly bare hands, Mo Ling was puzzled. Why had he been able to maintain his Block-head form for so long this time? He’d been stuck in this state ever since being caught in that moonlight.
Unfortunately, he still didn’t know how to control this transformation.
The little figurine also stood on the table, studying Mo Ling intently.
Once the armor on Mo Ling’s feet was completely off, the little figurine leaped and landed on his shoulder.
"While your authorities haven’t completely vanished, do me a favor."
"Alright. Let’s be quick."
"This way." The little figurine pointed to a corner of the library.
’This way?’
Mo Ling looked at the pitch-black corner, confused. ’Isn’t that a dead end?’
But he walked over anyway, half-believing and half-doubting.
However, after walking toward the corner for a long time, Mo Ling never reached a wall. Instead, the mist around him grew thicker, and the space seemed to slowly open up, as if he had passed through a door and into a huge underground plaza.
’Looks like the figurine wasn’t just pointing randomly after all. Is there something else hidden in this library?’
"Now, turn left ninety degrees and take ten steps forward."
"Okay." Although he didn’t know where the figurine was taking him, Mo Ling did as he was told, turning and continuing forward.
Still no walls in sight, just an endless expanse of mist.
"Turn left ninety degrees again and take ten steps forward."
Mo Ling turned again.
He stopped once he reached the designated spot.
"And then?"
"Then turn left ninety degrees again and take ten steps forward," the little figurine said slowly from beside his ear.
"Okay."
But Mo Ling stopped before he had even taken two steps.
"Wait, are you sure?"
