Chapter 189: The True Nature of Void Pattern — Consumption

Yufemia’s plan to attack Bai Kong’s most vulnerable eye was not without merit.

But all of it hinged on one crucial condition: that her strike would actually land.

And yet—just as the silver-white tip of her spider-leg neared Bai Kong’s eye, mere half an inch away, it abruptly froze in midair.

Staring into the dawning horror on Yufemia’s face, Bai Kong suddenly kicked her knee.

“Gh—!”

A muffled grunt escaped her as she collapsed like a broken doll, her body buckling under the force and dropping to her knees before him—now reduced to a trembling, fallen servant.

But this was not the end.

Bai Kong leaned forward with sudden, brutal intent, seizing the long silver hair at the back of her head and yanking hard.

Pain flared through her skull as her neck was forced upward, her face now tilted toward the man who stood above her.

He stared down at her wide, terrified eyes—filled with defiance, disbelief, and the raw agony of helplessness. And in his own gaze, there was only amusement. The pleasure of a predator toying with its prey.

“Since you’ve come all this way,” Bai Kong murmured, “I might as well tell you something even Chen Kong—the worthless fool—doesn’t know.”

He leaned in, slowly, until his lips brushed the shell of her ear.

Warm breath brushed against her delicate earlobe, sending a shiver down her spine.

Then, in an instant, his voice shifted—softer, gentler, almost tender.

“.The true nature of Void Pattern… is consumption.”

The final word fell like a blade.

With a sudden, vicious lunge, Bai Kong buried his teeth into the delicate curve of her collarbone.

“Ah—ah—AAAAAAH!!!”

A scream tore from her throat, torn between soul and flesh—her body convulsing violently, arching into a rigid, crab-like curve.

Her pupils dilated, turning white, lifeless.

The Stellar Energy that pulsed through her veins—her Strength—flooded out like a tide, greedily devoured by Bai Kong.

Even her Stellar Core dimmed visibly, its light flickering and fading before his eyes.

Soon, Yufemia felt her Will descend into utter chaos—into a featureless, endless void.

Before her, a monstrous form emerged.

A colossal being, composed entirely of pale, bleached bones—unnameable, unspeakable.

Its size was so vast that the surrounding “planets” seemed like mere morsels, like snacks to be devoured.

Instinct screamed for survival. With her final breath, Yufemia unleashed a desperate surge of will.

Silver spider silk shot from her fingers—again, wrapping around Bai Kong’s body, trying to tear him away from her shoulder.

But the result was horrifying.

The silk—strong enough to resist even Chen Kong’s attacks—dissolved instantly upon touching Bai Kong’s skin.

Not burned. Not torn.

Disassembled.

Reduced to pure, shimmering Stellar Energy particles.

What once required Chen Kong to activate with his right hand—Return to Dust—now covered Bai Kong’s entire body as a passive, all-encompassing ability.

And judging by its intensity, it was far, far stronger than Chen Kong’s version.

After what felt like an eternity, Bai Kong finally released her.

She collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.

Her once-vivid purple eyes, now lifeless and unfocused, stared blankly upward—pupils dilated, body twitching uncontrollably.

Bai Kong glanced down at the bleeding bite mark on her collarbone, then wiped his lips with the back of his hand.

“The taste was… average. But as emergency rations? Barely acceptable.”

With that, he turned and strode down the corridor without a glance back.

Left behind, Yufemia lay motionless on the cold stone floor, her gaze fixed on the ceiling—eyes wide, empty.

And slowly, like a candle being extinguished, the last spark of life faded from her stare.

Moments after Bai Kong vanished into the darkness, the screen abruptly cut to the open wall beside her.

The scene behind it was unbearable.

A mountain of tiny, pale bones—hundreds, perhaps thousands—piled high, all from children aged eight to twelve.

Each skeleton bore clear, jagged cuts—evidence of torture endured before death.

The Dimensional Audience’s chat exploded in horror.

Because many now remembered Ink’s earlier revelation—the list of orphans once shown to Vivian.

The official register from the Gear Church’s orphanages.

And Yufemia’s name stood at the top.

She had adopted more children than any other.

And every single one—after being taken in by her—had vanished.

Only Yu Chen had survived, thanks to William’s intervention.

They had suspected the truth.

But they had never imagined this.

This was not just one orphanage.

This was not just one crime.

The mountain of bones was not made of dozens.

It was made of hundreds.

And the woman who looked like an angel… was a monster beneath her beauty.

Compared to her, even Bai Kong—whose evil was written plainly across his face—seemed almost… refreshing.

After revealing Yufemia’s sins, the scene cut back to Bai Kong.

He walked through the dim underground passage, hand on his chin, muttering to himself.

“Tian Dao’s always so full of himself, giving orders like he’s the boss. ‘Kill the little spider, then return the body to Chen Kong?’ Hah.”

He scoffed.

“Who the hell do you think I am?”

“Me? I’m the noble Qiong!”

“Not even a mere memory projection conjured by The Dreamer could stop me. If the real Tian Dao Siming stood before me… I wouldn’t even blink.”

He paused, then turned toward a smooth, mirror-like wall.

He tilted his head, admiring his own reflection—his lips curled into a wicked, self-satisfied smirk.

“Miracle Stone · Kong thought she sealed me inside her? That I’d stay trapped forever?”

“Foolish woman. My greed—how could a mere stone contain it?”

He grinned wider.

“Look at this body—perfect, isn’t it?”

“A vessel forged from the Miracle Stone and my supreme power. All I need now is to reclaim the other half of my Strength—still locked within that Red-Eyed Girl—and I’ll be complete.”

“Then, no more Tian Dao’s Eight Paths. I’ll erase them all.”

He laughed—loud, triumphant.

Then—his face twisted.

The laughter cut off.

His eyes widened in terror.

He stared, horrified, at his left hand—shaking violently, uncontrollably.

The source of that trembling? The Stellar SourceStrength imprisoned within—The Dreamer, Chen Kong’s soul.

“Impossible… how…?”

“Why? Why would a memory projection… this powerful?”

In the audience’s stifled laughter, the man who had just been roaring with arrogance collapsed—face-first—into the flooded underground passage.

Long minutes passed.

Then, from the water, a figure rose.

He pulled himself up, drenched, shivering.

But when he looked up—his eyes were no longer wild, no longer cruel.

They were blank.

Pure.

Confused.

And seeing that innocent, bewildered expression—so utterly unlike the monstrous Bai Kong—the Dimensional Audience instantly understood.

The monster was gone.

What remained… was the familiar, gentle face of their beloved protagonist.

Chen Kong.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end