Chapter 663: Chapter 373: Prophet, The Truth Behind the World’s Destruction

Inside the confinement room, a layer of mercury-like color began to spread from the walls.

This mesmerizing hue flowed across the floor like moonlight, resembling ink drops on a blank page, permeating the entire space in no time.

In the end... even the chair Ji Minghuan was sitting on couldn’t escape, stained with the same color.

At this moment, the figure known as the "Prophet" stood motionless at the entrance.

The metallic door behind the Prophet was tightly closed, showing no signs of having opened, suggesting that the Prophet hadn’t entered through the main door.

Ji Minghuan propped his chin, seemingly nonchalant, yet he scrutinized the Prophet cautiously and seriously.

Clearly, the scene of the Prophet’s appearance was different from the last time.

The last Prophet Ji Minghuan saw seemed like a phantom, but this time, it was undoubtedly a living, breathing person in front of him... their breathing, subtle movements, those vacant eyes, everything was so real.

Soon, the stationary Prophet moved.

He leaned on an aged cane, dragging his tattered, gray-white cloak across the silver-white floor, his back slightly hunched, limping as he approached.

Under the brim of his hat, those deep, dark eyes stared intently at Ji Minghuan without blinking.

If Ji Minghuan claimed he wasn’t startled by this spectacle, it would definitely be false.

Again with the Time Suspension, and this ghost-like sudden visitation, truth be told, even the Salvation Society wasn’t this terrifying.

In this hollow, deathly quiet cage, Ji Minghuan pondered in his mind who this powerful being might be, all while curiously and cautiously observing the figure.

For some unknown reason, as he looked, Ji Minghuan suddenly found the Prophet’s gaze familiar, as if he’d seen it somewhere before, and this eerie sense of familiarity wouldn’t dissipate.

Ji Minghuan blinked suddenly; he realized he wasn’t entirely isolated.

Quick-wittedly, he rested his hand on his forehead, attempting to enter the Spirit Library in his mind.

However, he quickly discovered that even his library was enveloped in silence at the moment.

The sunset glowed red, its crimson afterglow filling every corner, and the entire library was empty.

In that familiar corner, the teacup, reading glasses, and books had all fallen to the floor, red tea flowing from the cup, staining the ground, yet the figure of Red Dragon Wales was nowhere to be seen.

Witnessing this, even Ji Minghuan couldn’t help but be slightly astonished.

To know that Red Dragon Wales’s shadow had accompanied him for more than half a month; this was the first time he entered the library to find the figure absent.

"How on earth did he do it?" Ji Minghuan murmured incredulously, raising an eyebrow, "Even the Mentor and Kong Youling couldn’t easily alter my mental space. What the hell is this?"

Despite having mentally prepared beforehand, he hadn’t anticipated that the Prophet’s abilities would be this terrifying, surpassing human capabilities.

The Prophet seemed to isolate all conscious entities. At this moment, the whole world consisted only of the two of them.

This was an absolutely confidential conversation, even the time was forbidden from joining.

Thus, the Mentor and others wouldn’t be able to review this scene through monitors afterward, at most finding Ji Minghuan’s position suddenly changed in a second.

"Damn, could it really be Restricted Level 1001?" Ji Minghuan thought, his eye twitching slightly, instantly recalling this sequence of numbers in his mind.

Then came the image of the Bloodline sipping afternoon tea with their face nonchalantly recounting the past.

If it truly was Restricted Level 1001, Ji Minghuan’s inner peace would vanish, as this could be the only entity in the world capable of genuinely threatening him.

Step, step step, step step step...

The Prophet’s footsteps were light and slow, overshadowed by the sound of the cane tapping on the floor. Those black leather boots stepped onto the floor, an outfit unknown from which era, excessively old-fashioned.

Moments later, the Prophet slowly walked over and sat across the table.

Ji Minghuan sat quietly on the chair, leaning against the backrest, observing the other for a while. This person was just over 1.7 meters tall, slightly taller than Ji Minghuan by half a head.

The two sat on opposite sides of the table, four eyes meeting each other.

"I know... you don’t like it here, so let’s discuss somewhere else." The Prophet said hoarsely.

"Can you get me out?" Ji Minghuan asked. "Since you managed to come in, taking me out should be easy, right?"

"I can’t... As for the reason, I can’t tell you for now." The Prophet shook his head, lowering his voice, "But I can let your Spirit accompany me on a journey for a while."

As the words fell, before Ji Minghuan could respond, his vision suddenly darkened, and then his consciousness seemed to plunge into a boundless ocean, dragged deeper and deeper by the pressure of the sea.

In the end, all that was left in his sight was a mindless blue.

This feeling was exactly like when he first created a game character...

Identical.

Who knows how long passed, but Ji Minghuan vaguely opened his eyes, his pupils slightly contracting.