I Am Not The God Of Drama Chapter 167

[ … words ]

“Dad…”

In the dungeon, Jian Changsheng slowly opened his eyes.

The dim, hazy moonlight spilled through the iron-barred window above, like a patch of snow scattered across the damp floor. His hollow, lifeless eyes stared at the concrete ceiling for a long time before rationality and thought gradually returned… like a computer that had been shut down for too long, its broken components whirring as it struggled to reboot, slow and erratic.

He remembered now—this was the secret underground of the Stellar Chamber of Commerce, a forbidden zone under strict surveillance, a prison forged of steel and concrete…

And he… was their captive.

“Stellar Chamber of Commerce… the Yan family!!” Jian Changsheng lay on the ground like a corpse, his chest heaving violently as boundless fury surged from the depths of his heart, threatening to incinerate the entire cell.

Ever since leaving the Soldier’s Ancient Repository, his memories had been fragmented. First, he had desperately paddled through the Frozen Sea, then lost consciousness. When he woke, he was already strapped to the Stellar Chamber of Commerce’s dissection table, ready for a soul-fragment search… After that came wave after wave of torture, each enough to rend his soul apart.

It was pain Jian Changsheng had never experienced before. Countless times, he felt himself on the verge of losing his mind to the agony, only for some unseen force to drag him back. His will shattered and reforged over and over in the crucible of torment, an endless cycle.

Jian Changsheng even began to think that compared to what he’d endured, the boiling oil and flaying knives of hell were child’s play.

No… he couldn’t die yet. He had fought so hard to reclaim the talent that was rightfully his, clawed his way back from death’s door—only to find himself not only denied the chance to turn his life around but even robbed of the opportunity to see his father one last time. How could he die here like this?

But what could he do even if he lived? The Stellar Chamber of Commerce knew he had killed Yan Xicai. They would never let him leave alive. Perhaps endless torture awaited him, until his soul was ground to dust, leaving him with the most miserable death imaginable.

Just as Jian Changsheng wrestled with despair, the moonlight spilling into the cell flickered faintly. Shadows and light intertwined, as though a mysterious hand plucked at the silvery threads of moonlight.

Jian Changsheng froze. With great effort, he turned his head, following the light to the patch of white on the floor…

Tiny motes of dust floated in the moonlight, and upon the ground materialized the silhouette of a figure shrouded in shadow—a jester. Its limbs were strung with threads leading into nothingness, like a puppet on invisible strings. Its face was twisted with fury, its hands gripping several of the threads as if determined to snap them all.

In the upper-left corner, a vertical line of ornate letters formed an ancient, mystical pattern:

[JOKER]

This was a playing card—a gray “Joker.”

“This is…” Jian Changsheng’s pupils contracted slightly at the sight.

Though he had been a low-ranking enforcer in Aurora City, he had still heard rumors of an organization that used playing cards as codenames… That organization was taboo, its danger and madness a threat to all domains.

The moonlight shifted, and the projection of the card flipped over. On its back, a line of small text slowly appeared:

“Survival, or Death?”

Seeing these words, Jian Changsheng’s mind quaked. He finally realized what—or who—he was facing… That forbidden organization was watching him?

Why?

Though this was merely observation, not an invitation to join, those who earned their attention were few and far between. Jian Changsheng had long heard that the Twilight Society was small in number and rarely recruited newcomers. An [Asura] path alone wouldn’t be enough to draw their gaze—though rare, there were still a few in Aurora City, and he was just a novice who had barely stepped onto the divine path.

So why had they noticed him, locked away in this dungeon?

Was it because he had endured four rounds of soul-fragment searches? Or was it something else about him?

Jian Changsheng didn’t understand… but he didn’t need to. The choice before him was clear—Survival, or Death? How could he possibly choose the latter?

Without hesitation, he rasped out, hoarse but firm, “I want to live.”

The moment these words left his lips, the projection of the card faded away… No response, no phenomenon, nothing happened. It was as if everything just now had been a hallucination.

In the dead silence of the dark, Jian Changsheng sat motionless at the center of the dungeon, staring at that sliver of redemptive moonlight like a statue.

—

Creak—

The door to the house slowly swung open. Chen Ling followed Chu Muyun inside, stepping into a spacious traditional courtyard.

“This is your home?” Chen Ling’s gaze swept over the rock garden, the flower beds, and the pavilions in the distance, astonished. “You own property this big in Aurora City?”

Chen Ling was genuinely shocked. The last time he’d seen a courtyard of this scale was during a trip to the Suzhou gardens in his past life… and back then, he’d even paid a 70-yuan entrance fee.

A residence like this would’ve been exorbitantly expensive even in the seven districts. In Aurora City, it was outright aristocratic. He’d assumed that Chu Muyun, as a covert Twilight Society member, would live in some dark, secluded corner—not openly flaunting such extravagance.

Bai Ye strolled in behind them, arms crossed, grinning.

“Our ‘Divine Physician Chu’ rubs shoulders with Aurora City’s elite and celebrities. Those people line up with fistfuls of cash, begging him to work his medical miracles for their health and longevity. Otherwise, why do you think I stick around him so much?

“He’s the only one among us in Aurora City with high status, vast wealth, and the freedom to spend it openly… Mooching off him beats hiding in some dark corner any day.”

Chu Muyun adjusted his glasses and explained calmly, “There are plenty in the Twilight Society more capable than me. I’ve just been stationed in the Aurora Domain longer, so I’ve accumulated some… resources.”

Then, as if remembering something, he turned to Chen Ling.

“After this incident, your original identity is completely unusable. You might want to consider crafting a new one for yourself in Aurora City… That shouldn’t be too difficult for you.”