I Was the Heavenly Emperor in the Primordial Age

Chapter 4: Crisis of Death

Night.

On top of the distant skyscraper.

One figure after another appeared on the rooftop, aiming at the hospital building far away, which was guarded layer upon layer like an iron barrel. Not even drones could get close to it, but they seemed to have found a new way.

They were all wearing strange suits, and only when they spread their arms like wings did it become clear that these were wingsuit gliders.

They wore helmets, and beneath their goggles, their eyes were as cold as if they held no emotions at all. Every movement was perfectly synchronized.

“Set off!”

At the command, they leapt one after another like giant birds, gliding with their suits and the cover of night toward the target.

“Four, three, two, one.”

The first person reached the airspace above the hospital ahead of the others. At that very moment, alarms blared, their piercing shrieks swirling like a storm, drawing countless eyes both inside and outside.

But the instant the alarm sounded, the man in the wingsuit at the lead had already reached the hospital’s outer wall. He seemed about to slam into it headfirst and turn into a smear of flesh.

At that moment, he released the switch in his hand. The bomb strapped to his body detonated, and a fierce blaze shot up in the darkness.

“Boom!”

At the same time, Li Jun, seated upon the Ritual Altar, awoke.

He slid down the collapsed altar and happened to land on the ground, standing upright.

At that moment, he was dressed in a Daoist robe, wearing cloth shoes and white socks, as if he blended seamlessly with the crowd and became one of them, standing still while gazing at the blasted-open breach.

By then, some time had passed since Li Jun had pointed out Kunlun’s true location. The young and handsome Daoist Priest had vanished without a trace.

The Daoists and other personnel present were leaderless. Confronted with this sudden crisis, they appeared bewildered, falling into chaos all at once.

One wave had not yet subsided when another rose.

The lights had either been destroyed or the wires had been blown, leaving only a faint glow from an emergency lamp shining through the outer corridor.

Just as people took out flashlights to illuminate the area, one figure after another surged through the blasted gap.

But charging in like that, how could they possibly stop their momentum? One after another, they slammed into the interior walls.

“Pa! Pa! Pa!”

All the intruders splattered into pools of flesh, most of their remains smeared across the walls, impossible to scrape clean.

Some even crashed into those inside, dragging them down and shattering into broken limbs so scattered it was impossible to piece them apart.

Before anyone could fully take in the devastation from the explosion, the wreckage was instantly transformed into a slaughterhouse.

One upheaval after another, the relentless shock was unbearable.

Everyone froze in place, unable to comprehend what meaning or purpose such suicidal attacks could hold.

But Li Jun, along with a few others, noticed something strange—the flesh and blood splattered across the walls and floor was not ordinary red, but a grotesque dark red mixed with green.

Looking closer, Li Jun realized that some severed limbs did not reveal mere flesh and bone, but faintly showed writhing rootlike tendrils or tentacles.

“This thing is not human!”

Then, an even more horrifying sight appeared.

From within the crowd, someone pointed at a cracked helmet on the ground and shouted.

“It’s moving!”

That “helmet” began to shift, as though kicked by an unseen foot.

As it moved, countless blood-red tendrils—whether roots or tentacles, no one could tell—gathered toward it.

The “helmet” began piling upward from beneath the neck, gradually piecing together a torso. Severed limbs scattered across the floor crawled toward it, attaching themselves.

In the blink of an eye—

The thing had reformed into a human shape.

“Ah, what is that thing?” Most people felt their scalps crawl, gasping in shock, some turning to flee.

“Monster! Impossible! The Divine Stone has not even been found yet—how could such a thing appear in this world?” But some Daoists seemed to recognize it, shouting in alarm.

“Kill them!” Several Daoists suddenly pulled guns from beneath their robes and opened fire on the so-called “monsters.”

Gunfire roared instantly, while others scrambled for cover.

Yet the undead humanoid creature charged headlong into the bullets. The shots had no effect, merely slowing it slightly.

It lunged forward, seizing a Daoist’s gun with one hand while the other hand drove straight into his eye socket, killing him instantly. The creature then turned the gun on the others, firing wildly.

While everyone’s attention was locked on this undead monstrosity, more creatures silently reassembled, one after another rising to their feet.

Two people tried to escape through the exit, only to be slain by the monsters.

Their fingers were like blades, plunging directly into human flesh. One victim had his throat pierced and collapsed, while another suffered worse—his heart was ripped out.

The scene was unimaginably bloody. Many collapsed on the ground in terror, their spirits shattered by the relentless horror unfolding before them. Follow current novels on Novᴇl_Fire(.)net

At that moment, the monsters’ gazes swept over everyone present, finally fixing on Li Jun, who had been blending quietly into the crowd, showing no particular traits.

One of the monsters spoke from beneath its helmet: “It’s him. Do we take him alive or dead?”

Another gave the order: “Shoot him, then convert him!”

The black barrels of their guns rose.

Li Jun instantly felt his mental focus sharpen to an unprecedented degree.

But after all, he was only a mortal. He had no gun in hand—he did not even have a pencil. In the face of such a situation, he had no means at all.

Just then, from an unknown direction, came a sharp cry.

“Chirp!”

By his ear, he suddenly heard the call of the Blue Bird.

In that instant, Li Jun saw the vision of his own death—

Facing the guns leveled at him, he fell into a pool of blood without surprise.

Before him, that monster—whatever it was—had injected something into its own body, then performed a movement akin to a ritual.

Not long after.

In the vision, he himself staggered to his feet, transformed into the same kind of being as them.

“Blue Bird’s divine power?”

Li Jun did not understand. The Blue Bird clearly belonged to an existence from tens of thousands of years ago, and was not by his side now. Why then could this divine power still be unleashed?

But he had no time to think further. Confronted with the gun barrel already aimed at him, he immediately reacted.

“Bang!”

Before the “man” could fire, Li Jun had already dashed into motion.

That “man” reacted with equal swiftness, raising the barrel toward Li Jun again, firing shot after shot.

“Bang, bang, bang, bang!”

But Li Jun moved as though eyes had grown on his back, dodging each bullet.

Two “men” came to block him. With a sidestep and a roll, curling his body into a ball, he shot between them through the gap beneath their flailing arms.

Springing back up, he had already reached the blasted gap in the hospital wall.

He stood on high.

Beyond was darkness.

Whether due to these people or not, the entire area had lost power. The pitch-black void yawned like the eighteenth layer of hell, awaiting his plunge.

And this was the fourth floor.

Yet, under everyone’s gaze, he did not hesitate. He leapt straight out of the fourth floor.

Below was a row of power lines, and he landed directly atop them. He bounced once, then dropped further down.

And at the very bottom lay something utterly unexpected.

It was the very first attacker to arrive, the one blown apart by his own bomb.

At that moment, his scattered pieces had just begun piecing themselves back together into a human form—only for Li Jun to crash down upon him from above.

He became the final cushion against the fall.

The “man” was smashed apart again into scattered fragments, unable to reassemble for now.

Li Jun did not even care whether he was bruised or injured. His spirit was utterly focused.

Focused so sharply that only the outer world mattered, focused until all emotion seemed erased.

A single sweep of his eyes found the path forward. He sprinted into the dark, racing toward it.

At the blasted breach of the inpatient building.

One figure after another appeared, staring at Li Jun’s faint silhouette fading into the dark. Their faces, which had until then shown no emotion, now flickered with expressions.

“?”

Li Jun’s escape was so smooth that the undead creatures could not react in time, his rapid maneuvers catching them completely off guard—just as their assault here had caught others off guard.

Yet among the “men,” someone seemed to realize something.

“Divine power?”

“Where did he get divine power?”

“Impossible! How could anyone else wield divine power now?”

“Hadn’t he only just awakened the Double Pupils?”

Meanwhile, the “man” Li Jun had used as a cushion, his head lying on the ground, fixed its eyes on Li Jun’s vanishing shadow and shrieked toward above.

“Catch him!”

“We must catch him!”

All the attackers abandoned their other targets and leapt down together, pursuing Li Jun.

All of this happened in the blink of an eye.

The outside response came swiftly enough. Within five minutes, a large contingent of fully armed personnel arrived at the remote hospital and surrounded it.

But the attackers and their target had already departed, leaving only wreckage.

From a car stepped a man in a black uniform jacket, glasses perched on his face, a tablet in hand, and a white earpiece dangling from his left ear.

At that moment, he walked while conversing with someone.

“We’ve reached the site. All present individuals have been secured.”

After the initial report, his emotions could not be restrained. Anger surged in his voice.

“Zhou Shentong caused this problem. He secretly manipulated the entire area, falsifying files and data.”

“We believed the infected here were still under treatment. In truth, all were dead—leaving only one viral adapter, which Zhou Shentong concealed.”

“We don’t know when he joined the Longevity Temple—or perhaps he was one of them all along.”

“He has been using these people to create viral adapters to seek the Divine Stone—that which the Daoist Sect calls the Creation Jade Disc.”

“This madman has killed countless people. We must capture him and bring him to justice.”

On the other end, the voice was calmer.

“He could not have done this alone. There must be others aiding him. We are investigating.”

“Who was the last remaining infected? Do you have his records?”

The man in the black uniform tapped his tablet. A profile and photo appeared.

“Li Jun!”

It was an utterly ordinary name, his history unremarkable.

The man in glasses said, “The only noteworthy thing is his interest in mountaineering and camping. It may have been during such an activity that he contracted the Double Pupils virus. According to records, he is a naturally infected Double Pupils carrier!”

The voice on the line responded: “Then he is our era’s first true Double Pupils virus adapter. Where is he now?”

The man walked toward the inpatient building, quickly reviewing records and questioning hospital staff.

At the high site of the explosion, amid the corpses of the Longevity Temple’s outer members, his men were reconstructing the scene.

Before leaving, the attackers had slaughtered every last outer member of the Longevity Temple.

Soon after—

A medic in work clothes discovered special tissue among the corpses and reported it at once.

The man’s face darkened: “Plant-form viral adapter.”

He uttered a word: “Monster?”

“Urgent update! Suspected remnants of a plant-form viral adapter detected on site!”

“Based on reconstruction and eyewitness accounts, Li Jun leapt from the fourth floor to escape. The attackers pursued him out of the hospital. Their whereabouts are unknown.”

At those words, the other end grew tense.

“You’re saying ‘monster’?”

“The Divine Stone has not yet emerged. How could monsters appear?”

“Can this be confirmed? Your report could escalate the entire security level.”

The man in glasses said: “It cannot be fully confirmed yet. But the scene clearly shows a group with special abilities stormed this place, likely infiltrating by wingsuits.”

“Reconstruction indicates they should have died from the explosions and impacts. Yet aside from minor remains, no bodies could be found.”

“They apparently survived, then killed the Longevity Temple members.”

He then offered a plan.

“I suggest starting with Li Jun!”

“He was an ordinary man before. Finding him should be simple.”

“Finding him will lead us to the attackers, and to whoever is behind them. But we must hurry—the attackers may reach him first.”

The other voice asked: “If Li Jun truly was an ordinary man, how did he escape from the undead attackers?”

The question left the man in glasses speechless.

The voice continued: “Regardless of what he was, he is no longer ordinary. You must be prepared for that.”

The man in glasses replied: “Yes!”

He hung up, then strode downstairs, pushing through the busy crowd, reboarding his vehicle and heading away.

Meanwhile—

The Daoist Priest who had spoken to Li Jun earlier, Zhou Shentong, had already reached the Kunlun Mountain region within hours.

He sat in a helicopter, speeding toward his destination.

At that moment, Zhou Shentong grew increasingly anxious, scanning the ground below, searching everywhere his eyes could reach.

Then a call came through.

He answered impatiently at first, but his expression turned cold and stern.

“What happened?”

“Who did it?”

“Never mind—it doesn’t matter anymore. I am almost there.”

“Whatever they intend, they’re too late. We’ve already beaten everyone to it.”

Speaking thus, Zhou Shentong arrived at the site.

Members arrived one after another. Instruments and equipment were unloaded, as they scoured every inch of the place like a vast net.

“Nothing!”

On hearing the report, Zhou Shentong grew more agitated. This was beyond his expectations.

Someone at his side said: “Could it be too much time has passed?”

Zhou Shentong immediately retorted: “Impossible. If this truly is Kunlun, time would never erase all traces.”

“The only possibilities are that we haven’t found the right spot, or the time has not yet come.”

Then another thought struck him.

“Or else—he lied.”

Zhou Shentong immediately picked up the phone and dialed out.

“We must capture Li Jun. He must not fall into anyone else’s hands!”

By the end, Zhou Shentong almost hammered out his words like iron.

“He belongs to us.”

The night was deep.

Li Jun slipped away from the pitch-black hospital amidst the panicked crowd. He knew where to go—he even knew his destination.

Running ahead, he tore off the Daoist robe on his bloodstained body and tossed it into a trash bin, closing the lid. He now wore only a thin white undergarment.

Without the outer robe, he felt lighter, and he ran faster. He could sense the attackers were still pursuing him.

“As expected, they’re all after me.”

“They’re still behind me.”

After turning through several alleys, Li Jun briefly shook off the attackers.

Beneath an outward-jutting iron-framed window, he saw a blue school uniform left hanging outside, forgotten by some careless middle school student.

Quickly, he changed into the uniform.

He pulled the zipper up to his chin, shoved his hands in the pockets, and lowered his head.

He seemed like a student now.

Leaving the dark, damp alley—

On the wide street, cars streamed past. Towering buildings gleamed with ten thousand lights.

For someone who had long been cut off from the world, Li Jun felt a deep strangeness at this sight.

He lifted his head, glancing left and right down the street.

Faintly, he could sense gazes from above fixed upon him, searching for him.

The power of avoiding misfortune and seeking fortune activated, allowing him always to find the right path. Pedestrians, buildings, even the angle of his stride became part of his guidance.

The attackers called Wood Guests, the man in glasses, and the Longevity Temple—all three forces were searching for him, weaving a vast net.

Every thread pointed toward the fate he refused to fall into.

Amid the crisis and paths leading to death, the Blue Bird’s guidance carved out a single road for him.

At that moment, he felt he was no longer merely human.

His Double Pupils shone continuously, glowing faintly in the night. That power to avoid misfortune granted him an all-knowing sense, as though he had fused with the heavens.

Just as the Great Mother of the Ximu Clan had once called him during the ancient sacrifice.

He truly seemed to have become an Emperor.

The Heavens.

He felt, in some sense, as if he had transcended this mortal body, standing high above the skies, gazing down upon the earth, able to manipulate everything.

He knew what was happening.

He knew what would happen next.

He even knew where he would arrive.

“Mama, look at that man’s eyes.”

Crossing the red light—

While moving through the sea of people, a child holding his mother’s hand noticed Li Jun’s extraordinary Double Pupils.

When Li Jun’s gemlike eyes glanced at him, the child’s mouth dropped open.

But Li Jun swiftly passed by, vanishing into the crowd. When the mother turned her head to look, there was nothing.

At last, Li Jun reached his destination.

It was an antique shop.

Everything pointed here, telling him that within this place lay something that could resolve his current crisis.

The shop lights were still on, not yet closed. Li Jun stepped inside and quickly noticed something on a shelf.

He saw a long feather of green jade.

It was vivid and lifelike, yet hard to the touch like stone. No one would believe it was a true feather, but rather a carving of jade.

Li Jun blurted out: “Blue Bird!”

The events of ten thousand years ago and the present reality were connected by this feather.

The sense of unreality and detachment in Li Jun’s mind slowly dissipated. The haze from shock and chaos ebbed away, his emotions gradually returning to his body.

“Is it my Blue Bird?”

Li Jun stretched out his hand, inching toward the long feather.