As Gu Jianlin’s punch was thrown, the golden brilliance enveloped the desolate highway, the night seemed to be lit up as if it were daylight, and the burning Vermilion Fire was suddenly purified, disappearing into the Void.

With a rumbling sound, terrifying cracks appeared in the illusory dreamscape, the cries of the birds seemed to reach a peak of fury, yet the dreadful shadow that covered the sky was equally powerless to reverse, and like a reflection in water, it was annihilated in the Buddha light.

After nearly a year had passed, the young man shattered the shackles of fate with his own hands.

This punch almost took the life of the Ghost Car Ancestor, whose heart was pierced through once again, the wound on his chest burned as if charred, splintered brilliance penetrated through flesh, as if a Sun was wedged within his body, the noble divine form ignited like a furnace, crumbling and melting inch by inch.

His pupils almost ignited too, but at the final moment, he glanced at the young man.

A flood of illusions overwhelmed.

This was still the world created by the Vermilion Bird Venerate, possessing the power of life and death Reincarnation.

That glance seemed to reveal to him the surging past.

He saw the clan members of the Gu Family being slaughtered over hundreds of years.

He also saw the Ancient Gods of the Vermilion Bird Clan descending into the mortal world.

In the rarely snowy Magic City, the elderly Tang Zijing held his unconscious great-granddaughter and shed tears, someone stood atop a skyscraper looking down while smoking, silhouettes of nine heads reflected in the light.

Eight years ago at the Qilin Immortal Palace, the Ghost Car Ancestor stood in the depths of the Returning Burial Forest, calmly fiddling with the corpse remnants in the bushes, skillfully altering clues and evidence at the crime scene, then blew a breath at a comatose middle-aged man, displaying a cryptic smile.

At the Supernatural Research Institute of Peak City, the impostor Gu Ci’an raised his head, yet mirrored in the glass was the terrifying visage of a Nine-headed Bird, blood flowed like a river beneath his feet.

The Ghost Car Ancestor descended to the Dragon Nest, leaving vermilion bone blood within the hot magma waterfall, the deepest Ancient Dragon drawing upon this great power, seemingly welcoming a rebirth.

In the wind and snow of the Sea of Eternal Life, the Ghost Car Ancestor unbuttoned his suit, used an ancient dagger to slash his wrist so that blood might flow into the flame-like spreading Alchemy Matrix, looking up to summon the overwhelming God.

At Miyako Manufacturing in Tokyo Shinjuku, the projected Mr. Solomon was speaking grandiosely, behind him stood a ghostly charming man, holding a glass of blood-thick wine.

Finally, in the endless storm, the Ghost Car Ancestor hung his suit jacket over his shoulder, the white shirt stained red with blood, right hand supporting golden glasses, the lens reflecting a blood-soaked man, softly murmuring: "A curse spanning ten years hasn’t yet caused your mind to lose control, intending to move against your son?"

He paused: "Or perhaps, your former wife and student?"

Rain and blood mingled and flowed, that long-unseen man as if an indignant Titan, roaring in fury.

Memories violently flashed back, scenes of the past breaking like a mirror, shards piercing the heart.

Among myriad earthly weapons, only the past wounds most deeply.

Gu Jianlin seemed to fall into the abyss of the storm, surrounded by the cage named past.

This was the Ghost Car Ancestor’s final struggle, attempting to use bygone days to sway his will, alas, a miscalculation.

Crack.

Gu Jianlin’s right hand exerted a slight force.

The storm-like memories faded in his mind, seemingly unable to influence him at all.

"Showing me these won’t bring any fear, only make me angrier."

The Ghost Car Ancestor roared in agony, the brilliance within him almost ready to completely swallow him.

"Hurts, doesn’t it."

Gu Jianlin’s right hand rotated within his chest, as if to pluck out his heart: "When I returned to that highway and saw the words left by my father, it felt just like this."

The Ghost Car Ancestor’s hair was disheveled, the ghostly pupils burned into terrifying blood holes, the visage cracked into ghastly fissures like ruined ceramics, opening his mouth discharged black smoke, voice hoarse and unpleasant: "So...he left you a message even back then."

When he raised his head, the wound on his chest tugged, yet little blood flowed forth.

For his blood had long been scorched dry by the power of the Candle Light Law.

No more resistance lay in him, for the final measures had been exhausted.

"What do you mean?"

Gu Jianlin heard confusion and surprise in his voice, along with deeply hidden incredulity.

Logically, even dying men leaving a message wouldn’t be unusual.

Yet the Ghost Car Ancestor deemed it impossible.

"Sadly, that’s an answer beyond your capacity to bear."

The Ghost Car Ancestor, with black holes for eyes, gazed upon him, seemingly seeing something amusing, rasped with a laugh: "Don’t you still wish to know the curse on your mother and sister, what it actually is?"

He paused: "Or perhaps, who Solomon truly is?"

Gu Jianlin said expressionlessly: "I think you won’t tell me, will you?"

The Ghost Car Ancestor cracked a smile, grotesque beyond measure: "Of course, even if you kill me, it’s already too late. Under the oracles of the Master, in the past millennia, I’ve been the one altering history single-handedly, my mission has long been completed. That great era is about to arrive."