"He's the real monster."
"Can't you see? He can do anything, achieve anything. He can throw the entire future into chaos and madness!"
"But... I don't have time to stop him anymore."
"Kid, remember—think one step ahead. Always one step ahead."
"You're this future's only hope."
---
"Damian couldn't talk clearly by the end—his words were broken and halting—but I understood everything."
"Understood what?"
I didn't answer her question. "Where is Victor Zhou?"
"What do you mean?"
"He's not dead! Damian only sent three time-travelers. The person who killed your father could only have been sent by your father himself—to stage a show, make me sympathize with you, and then kill Damian!"
Jessica's expression shifted, and she fell silent.
"I'm sorry, Jessica." I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what came next. "I'm the fourth time-traveler from Project Rebirth. My next move is to continue the mission and assassinate your father, Victor Zhou."
Jessica looked at me, her expression complex. Finally, she shook her head with a bitter smile tinged with both mockery and sorrow.
"Marcus, give it up."
I slowly shook my head.
Suddenly, thunder rumbled in the sky above. The dark clouds shifted, pulsing with purple-red light.
"You can't beat him." Jessica said, looking up at the churning sky.
"This is a time-space disturbance," she said. "It takes many, many 'Gates' opening, many people time-traveling, to cause this."
Then I heard a low humming sound all around. It was like singing but not quite—low-pitched, eerie melodies that made the empty, pitch-black wilderness feel even more sinister, like hell.
"My father has new parameters," Jessica murmured.
Just then, a bonfire ignited in the distance.
Then another, and another. More and more fires sprang up on both sides, until the flames encircled our car.
Behind the fires stood hundreds of people—men, women, old and young. In the firelight, their mouths moved in strange, synchronized patterns.
They were chanting.
When had they surrounded us? When had they laid all these fires?
"This marks Damian's actual death in the new timeline," Jessica said, as if reading my thoughts. "He died just now, but the last possible moment for resuscitation has passed, so the world has changed accordingly."
"Changed into what?"
"I don't know. But it looks like the first step of my father's plan is complete."
"What the hell first step? Surrounding me with a bunch of people singing?"
"Can't you see?"
The chanting grew louder, more urgent. Their breath grew heavier. Maybe it was my imagination, but they seemed to be getting more fanatical.
No—not my imagination. The fires were burning brighter, and their eyes grew more savage.
"Who are they?"
"Believers." Jessica's voice trembled. "My father's believers."
---
The crowd slowly parted, their chanting fading.
From between the rows of people, Victor Zhou stepped forward. He looked hale and hearty, without a single sign of injury—it was hard to believe that mere hours ago, he'd been bleeding on the verge of death.
How had he done it?
Victor Zhou raised his hand, and everyone fell silent.
"Run," Jessica whispered from inside the car. There was desperation in her voice now.
I gave a cold laugh. "Why should I?"
"Because that's the only way you'll survive."
Jessica looked at me with something like hope in her eyes. But I slowly shook my head, and the light in her eyes dimmed.
"Marcus, there are things you can't stop."
She opened the car door and stepped out, merging into the crowd behind Victor Zhou.
Victor Zhou smiled at his followers, then walked forward and sat down in my car.
"Shall we chat?" Victor Zhou said.
"About what?"
"You, and Jessica."
---
Second semester of freshman year in high school, my first love, Jessica, tried to kill herself for the first time.
It was during a break. I was in my room doing homework when the hall erupted with footsteps, followed by a distant scream.
A crowd had gathered on the school rooftop, forming a circle.
Jessica lay in the center, blood pooling from her wrists, spreading across the ground in a shape larger than her body.
"Move! Out of my way!"
I shouted as I carried her through the crowd.
The school was enormous—the distance from the building to the front gate was a full kilometer.
That whole kilometer, Jessica on my back, bleeding, weakly scolding me.
"Who told you... who told you to save me..."
"Put me down..."
Her voice grew fainter, and blood soaked through half my clothes.
I ran faster and faster until my thighs burned.
I told her not to fall asleep, to keep talking.
She told me to stop running, that it hurt.
"Please..."
Her words grew increasingly slurred. The last thing I heard clearly was:
"Is it really this hard to just die?"
---
She stayed in the hospital for a long time.
It wasn't far from my place, so I brought her homemade meals every day.
"Hospital food is gross," I told myself.
My parents were busy, always traveling for work, and I cooked my own meals anyway, so making an extra portion was no big deal.
But she never ate any of it. Every day, I'd take back the thermal bag and the full lunchbox.
Teachers and classmates visited her in rotation every week.
One day, some school administrators came with student representatives—including me—and two reporters.
The administrators gave a mini-press conference about the school's crisis response protocols, then presented Jessica with a bank card on camera, saying they'd cover her medical bills.
Then the reporters prompted Jessica to say a few words of thanks.
They didn't know that Jessica had never said a single word to any visitor.
She stayed silent for a long time. The administrators grew uncomfortable, the vice principal came over and urged her to think of the collective, to consider the bigger picture.
Jessica still said nothing.
The vice principal lost his temper and jabbed his finger at her. "What are you good for except causing trouble for the school?"
Jessica remained silent, but her eyes suddenly turned red.
Then I walked up and punched the vice principal in the face, breaking his nose. It was the only time in my first seventeen years that I wasn't a coward.
I got disciplined.
But it didn't stop me from bringing her dinner that night.
"My mom made it. She told me to bring it to you."
I said it every time. It was ritual. Say it, leave the bag, go.
But that day, she suddenly spoke.
"Chestnut chicken?"
I jumped, turned around, nodded.
"Can you open it for me?" She wiggled her IV-bearing right hand.
I opened the lunchbox, set up the little table, arranged the chicken and rice neatly.
She stared at the food for a moment, then started eating.
Ravenously, like she was starving.
I said slow down, I'm not competing with you.
"It tastes like my mom's," she said through a mouthful.
Then she kept eating, taking huge bites.
Tears rolling down her face as she ate.
A few bites, then she'd wipe her eyes with her sleeve.
"Good."
Her mouth was so full she forgot to drink water.
I said fine, I'll make it for you again tomorrow.
"You said your mom made it."
My face burned.
She paused, set down her chopsticks, her voice still weak. "Will you come again tomorrow?"
"Of course."
"Don't lie to me."
"I won't."
She nodded and started eating again. The moment she looked down, huge tears plopped into her rice.
She quickly wiped her face again, like she couldn't bear to waste that bowl of rice. Then she stopped talking and focused on finishing every last bite.
Nothing was left.
"Can you date me?"
She whispered it.
I was startled, didn't know how to answer.
She saw my silence, lowered her head, and said something so quiet I could barely hear it.
"Otherwise, nobody will love me."
---
"Did you know Jessica tried to kill herself?"
"I did," Victor Zhou said, his expression calm. "I was in a lab in Switzerland at the time."
"And you never visited her in the hospital."
"Didn't you go every day?"
I froze.
"She's your daughter."
"Without Jessica, her mother wouldn't have died."
Jessica had told me about this.
Her mother had been frail. During her pregnancy, she'd developed a serious illness.
In that era, Essen City's medical infrastructure wasn't great, and there weren't many options. To ensure the baby's health, her mother refused antibiotics and other medications. When Jessica was born safely, her mother was left with chronic health problems.
By the time Jessica was seventeen, her mother had died.
"Jessica didn't choose to be born!"
"And my wife?" Victor Zhou demanded, his jaw trembling slightly. "My wife was a brilliant researcher, like me. Together, we could have changed the world. But what was Jessica?"
"So you just... hated her?"
"Despised," he said.
His tone was flat, but the bitterness in his eyes was no lie.
But...
No. Something was still wrong.
A few hours ago, the three of us had been in the same room discussing Damian's conspiracy, and the atmosphere hadn't been like this. Jessica had teased her father, and Victor Zhou had let her get away with it. The way they looked at each other couldn't be faked.
"I know what you're thinking, Marcus," Victor Zhou sighed. "She can't fake it, but I can."
"Faking love for your own daughter?"
"From the moment she held hands with you for the first time, I started faking."
"Why?"
"Because you're useful." Victor Zhou couldn't hide his smugness, and his eyes glittered. "1,043 timeline resets, and you're the only one who can kill Damian."
"You knew about his time-travels?"
"Marcus, I'm the Creator of the Gate." He smirked. "Or, to put it another way, I'm the source of all 1,043 timelines."
A chill ran through my entire body.
The first time I met Victor Zhou, I'd felt the same way. But back then, it was because he'd effortlessly seen through my every thought. This time, it was pure dread.
Of course. He'd created all of this—1,043 pasts and futures.
In a world with time-travel, he was practically a god.
"So, still want to fight me?"
He said it lightly, with the air of someone who'd already won.
The chill deepened.
A few hours ago, we'd been at Jessica's house, and while he was clearly smart, he'd also let me feel like I had some control.
But that was on purpose.
He'd deliberately appeared clever but not too clever, resilient but also weak, always staying slightly on the back foot, to dispel all my suspicions.
And then he'd found a believer, faked his own death, and turned me completely into his accomplice!
"You're not going to join us, are you?"
He asked at the moment I was most afraid.
But what did fear matter?
I looked around at the hundreds of silent people. As a 2017 detective, I'd undergone systematic anti-cult training. The behavior of these people—if it wasn't caused by drugs—meant they were deeply brainwashed.
When Jessica said "believers," that's what she meant.
Victor Zhou had founded a religion.
No—a cult.
"You know the answer."
"Of course."
"If I don't join, can I live?"
"No."
I laughed—bitterly, to steel myself. Then I stared at him the way I'd stare at a death-row inmate. "In this car, I don't think you're in a position to threaten me."
That was my last chip—brute force.
No matter what, I'd taken him down once before. This close, I'd fight a god himself.
But Victor Zhou laughed softly, contemptuously.
"Try me."
Our eyes met.
For just an instant.
Suddenly, my whole body went cold.
I'd seen those eyes before!
They were the eyes of a beast.
---
2007. My first time-travel. The first time I'd slept in the same bed as Jessica.
That night, we were kidnapped.
The masked man—their leader—had a black balaclava over his face.
He demanded to know where Victor Zhou was. Jessica refused, so the masked man stabbed me. Jessica begged, but she still wouldn't talk. The man grew impatient, grabbed Jessica by the hair, and dragged her into the bedroom.
Then I heard a scream that tore my heart apart.
"That masked man—it was you!?"
"When she screamed, it startled me too," Victor Zhou said. "All I did was take off my mask."
"Why!?"
"To turn you into someone who could kill Damian."
---
"I told her I'd jump. I said I'd tried over a thousand times and there was no other way."
"Your father needs you to die."
"I told her you wouldn't understand. Once you're dead, the boy outside will become a devil. He'll help your father eliminate the biggest obstacle."
"Then your father can properly research the Gate, let many more people work on it."
"It's the only way to save your mother! The only way!"
"She said, 'Dad, please, stop.' She didn't dare answer when I asked if she didn't believe me. So I said, 'If you don't jump, I'll kill the boy outside.'"
"Marcus, you've already joined us."
"Across three timelines, you were manipulated by me for a decade."
"You're the Rebirth Society's finest believer."
"Come. Stand with us. Let's undo everything that can't be undone. Let's create a new world together."